#if you can get past the teeth the fists and the shouts she's a sweetheart

[thelurkershideout]

Akatosh would like someone to hug the Dragonborn because she desperately needs it and he's incorporeal. Be careful though.... she bites.

[chocosvt]

love café

⚬ pairing: jeonghan x fem!reader ⚬ word count: 17.6K ⚬ warnings: some vulgar language, i guess! ⚬ genres: big time nsfw, dirty talk, lap dances, quickies, bath shenanigans, exhibitionism, overstim - you get what i mean. big ole romance, angst, fluff, jeonghan is very rich and very hot, joshua has a not so subtle crush on you. 

✧✎ synopsis: while you’ve spent the last few months pretending the love café doesn’t exist, you realize you need its services now more than ever. this brings you face to face with jeonghan, the son of a luxury fashion designer who’s got money to burn. your exchanges are strictly business. until they’re not. 

✧✎ a/n: YES, ANOTHER REWRITE. the original love café was just so unsalvageable that i almost fully wiped its plot, minus the actual concept of the café. so, this should read as fairly new! I HOPE U ENJOY IT !!

It’s not that you were desperate. Because you weren’t.

You were actually more than desperate at this point, and no longer could you sit on that uneven couch with the broken leg, staring at the chipped paint, listening to your neighbours’ screams, believing you should continue like this. More than anything, you were shortchanging yourself. There was no point in holding onto that little string of hope in which those employers might phone you back. It would be impossible to contact your family when you had affirmatively cut ties with them ages ago. And, it was becoming increasingly foolish to ignore your one saving grace, just a street over from your rundown complex.

But, could you really commit to it? Would anyone even be able to look at you and think you were someone desirable enough to reward?

Those thoughts often hung over you like a dark cloud, and poured down so heavily that you were metaphorically drenched, in your own pessimism. However, on that day, you were beyond patience with the cards you’d been dealt. Such a despairing apartment, with all its bugs and drafts and horrible neighbours, could not be your brightest and most fortunate future. There had to be something you could do.

Even if it meant going to the Love Café.

In other words, an easy gig to financial heaven, in exchange for sexual pleasures of course. You walked into your bedroom and sat down in front of the wooden vanity, clicking on a dim, flickering bulb to help illuminate your face as well as its lifeless expression which stared back at you. It didn’t take more than ten minutes to pat your skin with some emptying makeup and thinning pans of eyeshadow. Then, you fixed up your hair and chose a simple, mute-coloured dress from your closet, immediately swallowed by the large winter coat you cozied into.

You hurried quickly down the corridor, ignoring the muffled shouts from your argumentative neighbours bleeding through the nickel-thin walls, past the barking dog which jumped against the door, scratching its nails whenever you waited for the elevator, and you didn’t even spare one glance at the very strange man who always hovered in the central lobby and watched you ignore his coos every single day. By the time you arrived outside the Love Café, you were breathing like a marathon runner. Despite the cold weather, you felt a sweat run like a breeze down your temple as you wiped your face before heading inside.

The space felt warm. Everything was red, pink, or white. And when you inhaled, the air smelled like a note of rose petals and candy. It was surprisingly easy to sign up for a ‘Love Card’ at the front desk.

“This card has twelve punches per service with your partner. If, by the end of the twelfth punch, you’re not looking to pursue something serious with this individual, you can pay for another Love Card. If you do manage to find, ‘the one’, then congratulations, and well wishes. Since you’re a first-time client, you get twenty-five percent off your first card.”

Whoever the lady was, she seemed less than enthusiastic as she pushed a cherry-red paper across the counter with a finely manicured nail. You thought she must have given this spiel so many times, the script probably haunted her in her sleep. Nonetheless, you thanked her, and heeded her direction when she advised you to choose any of the free tables, marked with a pale rose. For some reason, you picked the very last table amongst the row and slid yourself onto the uncomfortable, white chair, the metal back moulded into the shape of a heart.

Whoever reserved the table wasn’t exactly punctual. About half an hour after being seated, ordering yourself a tea, and examining the different clients who filtered in and out the café, you were beginning to assume the worst. That they cancelled. Flaked. Decided to pull from the service and direct their affluence elsewhere. As you titled the last few droplets of tea around the base of the cup, feeling utterly depressed and bored, you heard the little bells clink above the door, followed by a gasp from the employee at the front desk. Considering her microscopic range of emotion, you figured whoever entered must be some flawless rarity.

“Jeonghan!” She fixed her slouched position. “I wasn’t aware you made a reservation today. I haven’t seen your name in the system.”

“No worries. I set an anonymous appointment the night before. After all the chaos I caused last time, I figured it’s best to stay under the radar. I know I’m late. I was finishing up a term paper.”

“That’s quite all right. Here, I’ll just quickly renew your information. One moment… Okay, Yoon Jeonghan, you’re all set.”

At that, your eyes practically bulged right into the teacup. You’d heard his name in some conversations with a few university friends, before you had dropped your program. His father was an inventive in the fashion industry for nearly a decade, and his brand was considered high-end luxury, with people forking up the big bucks just to wear a piece from the collection. His mother recently begun a perfume company. In fact, you had a bottle from her Sunrise series sitting on your vanity, though you used each spritz very sparingly considering its outrageous price point. According to the most recent gossip, Jeonghan had ended his relationship with a model who’d been strutting his father’s cloths.

You couldn’t believe he was here.

No – even worse, you couldn’t believe he was making his way toward your table. It had to be some sort of mistake. How could it be that you chose to sit here? Was the universe attempting another cruel joke?

His visual seemed even more daunting outside his photographs in the magazines. Beyond a glossy page, he was softer. Thick hair, shiny and dark brown, which swooped beneath his ears and parted smoothly at the forehead. His lips were the same shade as the windowsill roses, as well as the high arches in his cheeks. But then, he was sharper too, with a trim, angular jaw and such a defined yet judgemental brow. You had expected anyone else but him. And now, this esteemed, much too beautiful man had come to the very last table, wearing an expression of waning curiosity. Or, as you interpreted it, clear-glass disappointment.

Before Jeonghan seated himself, he untucked his phone from his coat pocket and clicked a side button to check the time. He then sniffled, looked straight at the wall, and sighed. Despite your now devoted wish to disappear, you attempted to begin a conversation that wouldn’t backfire.

“Yoon Jeonghan. I’ve heard the name. It’s nice to meet you.”

He settled one arm on the table, tapping his fingernails.

“Yeah. I’m guessing you’re not a regular here—” he then peered over at your bright red Love Card placed by the teacup to say your name.

Bouncing your leg underneath the table, you nodded. “No, not really. I’ve been debating for a while if this was a choice I should make, but I can’t seem to have ends meet doing anything else. So, I came here.”

Already, Jeonghan looked painfully bored. He stopped tapping his fingers and leaned his chin against the hand instead. You knew it was the insecurity barking. Unnecessarily, you apologized to him.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m probably not the woman you’re expecting and I get that. I wouldn’t be all that offended if you wanted to save the Love Card for someone else or—”

Out of the blue, Jeonghan laughed, though he attempted to mute the sound by digging the bend of his index finger between his teeth. Your sentence trailed off with an awkward, dying breath. He suddenly leaned back in his metal seat, shaking his head apologetically and pulling back some of the soft hairs from his eyes. You felt utterly confused.

“Sorry, sorry,” he smiled, “didn’t mean to discourage you there, sweetheart. I’ve just never had someone apologize for—well, their looks.”

“I-I don’t know,” you lunged for damage control, “I just thought you seemed disappointed and I… Well, I haven’t done this before, so I don’t really know all that well how it works. I… I should stop talking…”

It felt as though someone had swatted both your cheeks in an iron-slap, because the skin was stinging hot like never before. You knew he was staring at you, probably thinking to himself that you were a train wreck waiting to happen. Afterward, an employee visited the table to collect your emptied teacup, and asked Jeonghan if he’d like anything to drink. Refusing to look elsewhere but the clenched fists in your lap, you waited for the employee to leave once Jeonghan rejected the offer. He’d pulled out a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket. Uncapping the pen with his teeth, you watched him sloppily scribble something down.

“My number.” He said, sliding it across the table. “Listen, I’ve gotta go home and proofread that term paper before I submit it. Just send me a text, okay? I won’t be free for a few days, anyways.”

“Oh, okay.” You sniffled.

Quite frankly, you couldn’t comprehend that he was still interested in pursuing something venereal, even when you had embarrassed yourself like a circus act. He rose quickly from the table and wrapped the waistband of his coat tight around his small waist.

Staring down at the paper, you blurted out, “are you sure?”

Jeonghan titled his head. “Am I sure of what?”

“Never mind.” You answered. “I’ll text you later.”

“Okay.” He nodded, on the verge of walking away when he abruptly stopped himself. “Are you always this nervous?”

Caught off guard by his question, your elbow whacked the edge of the table and you meekly stuttered, “I-I don’t know…”

You were more than positive he was going to ghost all your texts.

To a degree, you were correct.

Over the course of the following week, you sent Jeonghan at least three texts, each on separate days, only to be rewarded with a demotivating lack of responses. You knew he was a busy individual who probably didn’t have much time to waste on promiscuous affairs, let alone a committed relationship. So, you tried very earnestly to not feel upset or unimportant at his methods – even despite the series of required payments glaring you down from those white envelopes scattered atop the kitchen table.

And then, during the black, late hours of a snowy Friday, you received a reply. A surprisingly urgent one which detailed that you make it to the downtown Opal Studio before eleven o’clock, as there would be a backdoor entrance left unlocked for your access. He mentioned a storage closet underneath a staircase, worded very sternly as: … Wait inside, and do not make yourself known. I’ll see you there shortly, and ensure you leave without being spotted. Uncertain of what the situation would entail, you phoned a cab and payed the driver using some remaining funds from a paper note purse. The studio’s front was a smooth, velvet black, with a wide window which illuminated several mannequins wearing Mr. Yoon’s newest issue. Each outfit cost a pretty penny.

Like you anticipated, Jeonghan was late to meet you in the storage closet; however, you were at no point going to scold his blatant disregard for scheduling when he’d pressed you tight against the door looking the way he did. Buttons popped down the chest of his unwrinkled dress shirt, sleeves cuffed to his elbows, and his neat, styled hair beginning to dishevel around those intense eyes. He braced his hand beside your head, studying your lips as though they were glittering.

“Can I kiss you?” Jeonghan asked. The question seemed to rumble from deep in his throat and you felt your knees weaken.

You nodded immediately, allowing his hand to frame the side of your cheek as his warm, soft mouth nudged against yours. It was gentle for a fleeting touch, and then there was pressure, teeth, a slick tongue running across your bottom lip and leaving you in such a sensual daze that you just stood there with a parted mouth. Jeonghan definitely knew what he wanted from you in that moment. And he wanted it quick. You were flipped around, chest pushed against the door, skirt hiked up impatiently as the fabric ruffled around your hips. His hand slid between your thighs to rub you through the thin pair of underwear, pressing firmly enough that you could feel the cold, thick rings on his fingers.

Eagerly, you began a slow gyration of grinding against Jeonghan’s touch while simultaneously biting down hard on your bottom lip, knowing embarrassingly well that you were already sticky and soaking and ready for him to use you like a designated fucktoy. He was rather flush to your backside as he dug the heel of his palm against your clit, so much yet not enough between the cotton. Something about his scent was beyond arousing, and it gripped to him like a web. An expensive cologne no doubt, mature, raw, and ocean-fresh. You heard the sound of his belt being whipped open, followed by a zipper.

“Alright,” Jeonghan hummed, passing a hand up his length, “let’s make this quick. Gotta be back upstairs in five to finish the measurements and tapering and all that boring shit. Now, just be a good, quiet little girl for me, sweetheart, and this’ll be a cake walk.”

Your mouth stretched into a low, whiny groan as Jeonghan held your underwear aside and began to sink inside of you, his hips stalled against your skin. His light breath then fluttered at your ear, “bet you’d make such a perfect toy to keep my cock nice and warm. Feels so perfect, being this deep inside you, sweetheart.” He shuddered against you, thrusting once, twice, slowly and teasingly dragging himself out before ramming right back in to pinch you against the door.

“Fuck,” he cursed between his teeth, “life would be so much easier if I could just keep you right here on my cock, wouldn’t it, baby?”.

Undoubtedly, that smooth-talking tongue of his was going to be an impending problem. You don’t know where he got off exactly on such scandalous thoughts, but you were too consumed in your own lust to care. The way he fucked you against that door with one hand scraping at your hip and the other wrapped up your throat, fingers pressing hot into your drooling mouth to keep you quiet, it was more bliss than a one-way ticket to Eden. Jeonghan timed his orgasm appropriately, slipping himself from your warmth at the last second and finishing himself off using the hand which had been maintaining your silence. His breaths were slow but husky in the aftermath, his fingers painted in cum.

“You wouldn’t want to use that pretty mouth of yours to clean this, would you?” He laughed.

Before you could respond, Jeonghan had grabbed some paper towels left to sit on a shelf and cleaned the mess himself. Then, as though nothing had happened, he asked if you were carrying that damn Love Card before you could even flatten down the wrinkles in your skirt. You grabbed the small note purse you set down next to the paper towels and revealed the obnoxiously coloured card. Jeonghan smiled.

“That’s the one.” He took a dry erase marker from the shelf and wrote his initials in the first circle.

“Here,” Jeonghan proceeded to offer back the card, “one session down. I need to scram. The hall should be clear at this hour, but have a cab ready just in case you need to bolt fast. Oh—before I go, you got the money to pay the driver? It’s no problem if you’re short. I can cover.”

“N-No, I should have enough.” You answered.

“Cool. I’ll transact you tonight.” Jeonghan nodded, tucking in his shirt rather poorly before slipping past you to exit the storage closet.

One week later, you were at the entrance to the library, pulling open the door with a big, cold huff. It was much warmer inside. You were beginning to feel the tips of your stiff fingers again.

Despite your service at the Love Café, you wanted one last time to test your luck on a receptionist position at the downtown hair salon, simply because you would think better of yourself if you weren’t relying chiefly on Jeonghan to pay your bills. His last transaction had been more than you anticipated. Finally, you were able to erase that huge electricity bill, and you still had enough of the money left over to supply some warm meals for the next few days. If you could just submit your newest resume to the salon, then you might be able to permanently cover the groceries.

Except, you needed access to a computer.

Ever since you tipped over a glass of water onto your old laptop, it had stopped working properly, and the library was the only place close by which let you use the computer room without fees. However, as you peered in through the backroom window to find an open space, you realized just how crammed full it was. Judging by everyone’s intense typing and unblinking eyes, you weren’t going to steal a seat anytime soon, which pulled out a frustrated sigh as you fiddled with the USB in your pocket. You thought about heading home, until you saw Jeonghan.

He was seated at the distant left corner, leaned back comfortably in the chair while he examined something on his laptop. A gym bag was slid underneath the table, and he was dressed as though he had some sort of sports practice; quite the contrary to his usual crisp, ironed shirts and heavy winter coats courtesy of brands you couldn’t pronounce. He seemed concentrated, chewing on his thumb nail while he tapped the touch pad. In fact, he didn’t notice that you had approached him until you said his name quietly from across the table and his eyes flickered.

“Uh, hey.” Jeonghan replied, sounding bothered while he pushed his thumb harshly against his bottom lip. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“And I didn’t expect to see you.”

He shrugged, maintaining his uninterested glance on the laptop screen. “Well, I’m looking over some notes. Last minute stuff.”

You nodded. “What’s with the duffle bag?”

“My friend Joshua – he’s been making me coach this Peewee soccer team with him at the Greenfield Dome.” Jeonghan puffed out his chest, letting an arm fall loosely to his side. “Those kids are insane. They have too much energy. I shouldn’t have let that bastard sweet talk me.”

At that, you giggled, though immediately hushed yourself when the librarian came by with a metal cart, filled with books to shelve. You stepped around the table to move out of her way. Jeonghan pulled out the chair beside him using his foot and nodded that you take a seat.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

You reached into your pocket and pulled out the USB.

“I need to upload my new resume. I mean, I probably won’t hear anything back from this place, ‘cause that’s how it usually goes. But, whatever. Thing is, I busted my laptop, and now the computer room is filled up. I’ll just come back later and hope it’s cleared out.” Staring down at your shoes, you avoided Jeonghan’s gaze. “I know I’m doing this Love Café stuff, but it would still be nice to have my own income, you know?”

“I get that.” He replied, scratching at his collarbone. “I’ve already got my laptop here and everything. You can use it, if you want.”

“Really?” You smiled wide. “Thanks.”

Jeonghan closed a few tabs that he’d been rotating between before sliding his laptop over to you. Wriggling the memory stick into the small slot at the side, you logged into your email account through the main search engine. As long as you could send your resume to the salon before they closed their application deadline, then you would hope for the absolute best, even if it was an unstimulating, lacklustre gig answering phones and scheduling hair appointments all day. Just as you went to drag the file into your email, Jeonghan’s laptop froze.

“Uh, Jeonghan,” you whispered, “nothing’s moving. Do I just wait? Does this normally happen? Did I screw something up?”

He shook his head and laughed. “Relax, relax. It’s been doing that a lot recently. I figured out if you hold down these keys—” Jeonghan suddenly scooted his chair in very close, his thigh pressing against yours as he reached a hand underneath your arm, the other lightly nudging your fingers off the keyboard, “then it goes back to normal. See?”

“O-Oh, yeah. It’s working.” You stuttered, not all staring at the specific keys he clicked because the side of his face was much too pretty.

Granting you access to the keyboard again, Jeonghan leaned away, though he didn’t move his thigh from yours even an inch. It was almost concerning how flustered you felt. Jeonghan had literally pinned you against a closet door and fucked his own hand right in front of you, and yet, your heart was fluttering tenfold. In a much different way. And it lit this spark of fear and adrenaline at the core of your chest like gasoline hitting a wicked flame. You detached the USB stick, logged yourself out from the email account, and moved quickly off the seat.

In a hurried breath, you said, “thanks so much!” and proceeded to leave the library as though someone were trailing you with a pitchfork.

While it was embarrassing, you knew it was necessary. There was no way you were going to crush on that boy. It was strictly business.

Tired. Aching.

Uncomfortable moisture covering the slopes and divots of your body. You didn’t think there was anything left inside you for him to so commandingly take, like his name were inked to your each and every limb. And yet, Jeonghan wasn’t ready to let you rest. The mattress dipped behind you, the heat of his chest sticking to your back, the weight of his erection pressed right at your tailbone. While his lips kissed softly up your neck, Jeonghan slid his hand in between your thighs to continue pleasuring you, ignoring the responsive whimpers attached to your sensitivity. He’d already brought you to two orgasms, though you were sensing the overbearing rush of a third.

An index and middle finger slid down to your entrance, the contact beyond slippery, a sort of wet velvet, and you hardly recognized the sensation unlike the first time he’d touched you. Jeonghan hooked the digits deep, using the heel of his palm to rub a thorough friction against your clit. Working faster and faster, his laboured breaths fanned hot across your neck while he sharply concentrated on making you starry-eyed. It was pain. It was bliss. It was exactly what you wanted most and everything you couldn’t endure at the same time. You came heavily, screamed as the pulsation at your core felt almost violent.

Unable to fully ride out the pleasure, you attempted to curl away from Jeonghan, hiding your face in the pillows and further tilting your hips. However, the boy followed your movement. He stayed snug to your back, practically leaned over top you with the latter arm braced next to your head while his hand pounded and pounded. The amount of liquid gushing onto his fingers and spilling down his wrist felt almost comical, and you were certain that you had never orgasmed so intensely in your life. To make matters worse, it seemed as though he’d taken that little memory box in your head filled with all your language and tossed it right out the damn window. You couldn’t form one word other than sobs.

Jeonghan breathed a light, shaky chuckle beside your ear. “Trying to run from me, sweetheart? When I can make you feel so good? Look at how much you can take, honey. Such a good girl when you cum so fucking hard ‘round my fingers I can barely move them.”

The sound of his digits sliding out from your entrance was the most impure, salacious noise you didn’t know could exist. Rolling slowly onto your back, you saw the immediate coating on Jeonghan’s hand and the drops beading down his wrist. He caught one with his tongue, licking all the way back up like he was cleaning the juice from a melted popsicle, and you almost couldn’t watch him. In fact, you were exhausted. There wasn’t anything left for you to offer, and the thought of moving from his bed when your core felt this utterly sore and your muscles this tight set a perfectly timed cue for your eyes to fall shut. It was heavenly.

Nonetheless, Jeonghan had a very specific rule. There was no staying past your session, and he was often strikingly clear about it. But  this was the first time you’d been pushed to such a degree. He must be able to recognize that it was only a short nap you needed, and perhaps a quick minute under the shower to rid your skin of the sticky sweat.

Out of the blue, something was tossed onto your face. It was your t-shirt earlier stripped and thrown to the floor by Jeonghan. Cracking an eye open and peeling away the fabric to hang loosely from your grip, you sighed. He had already slipped back into his exercise pants.

“Seriously? I’m exhausted.”

He threw a loose flannel over the long, beaming red scrapes that you had clawed down his back, shaking his head with a huff.

“I’m not saying you need to get out right now. I’ve got a dinner with the parents at eight.” Jeonghan proceeded to drop the rest of your undergarments onto bed. “So, you gotta be gone by a quarter to, alright?”

Swallowing dryly, you nodded.

“Alright.”

The next morning, you were seated on the edge of your bed, staring with bleary eyes at the smooth, red Love Card that was initialed to its fifth circle, leaving only eight more sessions with Jeonghan. Though you approached the café with nothing more than an intention to earn money (even if the sex would be inexplicably dull), you were beginning to presume that there was more to this business than you thought. Because the sex wasn’t dull. It was concerningly amazing. And the very man who you had sworn to maintain a no-strings-attached type relationship with was throwing you for a loop. But he was boundary driven.

Be ready to go by this time. No sparkly clothes. Leave nothing in the washroom. Don’t show up here. Don’t show up there. Don’t text me unless this. Don’t call me unless that. Jeonghan knew very explicitly that you were a simple trick to relieving his stress and fulfilling his sexual desires, yet, anything further than that was laughably impossible. And, besides, it’s not like you needed to be in love or have this dazzling, perfect boyfriend. There was too much on your plate already.

You had gone to bed in a thick wool sweater, layered with the heaviest comforter you had due to the broken heating. Ignoring the cold, your next-door neighbours had found themselves in another drunken argument, forcing you to hear the unnerving crack of beer bottles and an outrageous number of insults, ranging from the very straightforward, ‘ridiculous bitch” to the audacious, “go fuck yourself, narcissistic prick.”

Thankfully, the dramatics ended just before three am.

You set the Love Card back on your nightstand. After you splashed mild water onto your face from the sink, you started multitasking, attempting to brush your teeth and remove your pyjama bottoms at the same time. Then, there was a knock at your door. You spared a glance through the peephole while the toothbrush hung from the corner of your mouth and the frigid air hit your bare legs. Upon recognizing the face reflected through the fisheye lens, you nearly choked on the mint-flavoured spit collected at the back of your throat, which forced you to unpleasantly compose yourself at the kitchen sink.

He knocked again, and you pulled the door open almost immediately, probably appearing as though you just hiked through the wilderness. Jeonghan’s eyes widened as he smiled at you.

“Damn. Sleep well?” He remarked, looking you up and down.

You were in the midst of a yawn as you answered. “Um, yes. I-I mean no. Wait, I don’t know what I’m saying. What was the question?”

Jeonghan nodded. “I’ll take that as a no.” He then reached into the pocket on his flannel coat. “Anyways, I have your phone. You left it on my bedside table the other night. Figured it’s kind of useful, I guess.”

“Oh my god. I did that?” You winced, realizing you must have been so tired and discombobulated from Jeonghan blowing your brains out that you forgot. “It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

Leaning your temple against the door, you sighed. “How was that dinner thing with your parents? Was it any fun?”

The boy shook his head, pulling out his car keys and tossing them from hand to hand. “No. It was all business bullshit. What they want me to do with my future after I graduate uni. How to be responsible with my money since they think I’m gonna blow it in a few years. Trying to structure my life around stuff I don’t really give a damn about.”

“O-Oh…” You frowned, “well, was there at least good food?”

Jeonghan stopped playing with his keys and titled his head at you. “Yeah,” he said, his eyes gentle, “they had great red velvet cake.”

Unfortunately, your neighbours must have woken up and decided it was a little too peaceful at such an hour, because you heard a loud, clanging thump echo from the room beside yours, like someone had dropped a metal pot or pan on the ground. Of course, the yelling started.

It didn’t last nearly as long compared to the night before, just a few scolding comments which were ultimately muffled. You wondered what Jeonghan was thinking as he blinked at the neighbour’s door and realized how despairing the narrow, dimly-lit hallway looked. After visiting his high-end apartment numerous times based in the luxury core of the city, with its beautiful architecture and sparkle, you were frankly a bit humiliated he was witnessing this drab part of your life – the reason you were seeking his service in the first place. You apologized through your teeth for the commotion, though Jeonghan merely shrugged.

“It’s better than nothing, right?”

“Yeah, that’s true. But those two next door can be a handful sometimes. I don’t get it. If they hate each other, then just break up. Get divorced. It’s like they want to be miserable on purpose.”

“Bet you wish you could get the hell outta here, huh?”

“All the time.” You replied wistfully. “I’m thinking of going to the mall today, actually. I need a new bath towel. Whatever gets me away.”

“You want a ride there?” Jeonghan asked, shaking his keys.

At that, you smiled a little too wide. “Maybe.”

Carefully, you picked up a thin, glass bottle of pink perfume from the display counter, tilting the liquid back and forth as the lights gleamed off the gold nozzle. Everything inside the store was diamond bright and almost blinding, while the air smelled strongly of expensive floral. The employees were tailored in smooth, sophisticated suits, which made you more petrified than usual to touch anything, hence your very delicate inspection of the perfume as you waited for Jeonghan to finish his conversation with the front clerk. Since his father’s collection was sold at the boutique, Jeonghan seemed to have a cordial relationship with the staff, and they had recognized him almost immediately.

As most of their merchandise was quite expensive, you always ignored the boutique until Jeonghan suggested you stop by. It didn’t help that there was actually some cute clothing begging to be bought, though you knew one swift glance at the price tag would change your mind. You brought the perfume bottle close to your nose and inhaled lightly.

“What does it smell like?” Jeonghan asked.

You sniffed again. “It’s sweet, though it’s not strong.”

“Let me smell.” He said, and so you raised the bottle up to his nose. Jeonghan wrapped his hand around yours as he took a breath, shaking his head in disapproval. “That’s all wrong. I don’t like it.”

“It is kind of high schoolish.” You told him, setting the test bottle back onto the counter as though you were laying down a jewel. “I just need a new scent, you know? I actually love that one bottle your mom did, the summer tropic one. It’s so peachy but mild. I’m running out.”

“For real?” Jeonghan laughed, his eyes skipping over the different shaped containers. “You use one of my mom’s perfumes?”

“Um, yeah. Have you even smelled the tropic one? It’s amazing.”

“I don’t hang around her laboratory too often.” He replied. “It gives me a big fucking headache. Smells like this place times a hundred.”

You shrugged. “I guess that’s understandable.”

Suddenly, Jeonghan had latched his hand around your elbow, pulling you around to the opposite side of the counter. He grabbed a tall, slim bottle that was made from foggy glass and a chrome silver pump.

“C’mon, give me your wrist for a second.” He said. “Try this scent. I don’t know why, but it reminds me of you.”

Pulling up your sleeve, you stuck out your wrist and allowed him to spray a thin layer against the skin. Then, you sniffed the area. At first, your forehead crinkled as you attempted to decipher its concoction of notes. There was something a little fresh and cool, but then there was this oddly mature hint of a distinguished floral scent. You couldn’t pinpoint the flower, but it was certainly addictive and very intriguing.

“It’s called Orchid Night. Smells great, right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, rolling your sleeve back down “just don’t tell me what it costs. It has to be at least fifty bucks.”

“Try sixty-nine,” Jeonghan corrected, “plus tax, don’t forget.”

Immediately, you grabbed the bottle from his hand and returned the perfume to its small podium on the countertop.

“Well, let’s put it back before we break it.”

Jeonghan smirked. “I could buy it for you.”

For a split second, you were tempted to succumb, though you snapped from the thought at the last second and shook your head.

“No way. I wouldn’t let you, anyways.”

He buried his hands in his pockets, rolling those gold-copper eyes of his. Jeonghan made sure to purposefully bump into you as he walked down the bright aisle toward the clothes. “Honestly, you’re so boring, man. That scent, on you? It would be sexy.” The boy then turned around to smother you with a burning gaze. “But, fine. Have it your way.”

You hurried after him, scoffing lightheartedly to camouflage the fact your heart was beating like a broken pendulum. Jeonghan had stopped at a rack of neatly pressed clothing to sort through the hangers.

“My way is the better way,” you smiled, “always.”

Jeonghan moved the long-sleeved button-up he’d been eyeing back onto the rack, merely blowing out a puff of air.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Besides, I still need to get my bath towel.”

“We can find it on the bottom floor. At the new essentials store that just opened up. The Shower Duck, I think.”

“The Shower what?”

He couldn’t help but cackle while repeating himself. “The Shower Duck. You thought I said something else, didn’t you?”

When you were too tongue-twisted to reply, Jeonghan decided to place his fingers softly on your chin, holding your head still as he leaned in very closely to whisper, “you’re such a dirty girl, you know that?” You almost hated how casually he pulled away and continued to examine the clothing, as though he hadn’t just murmured a lascivious comment into your ear while the employees were standing a mere few meters across the store. More than anything, you desired the courage to deservingly tease him in return, to break that relaxed little shtick of his. Except, you weren’t confident nor subtle enough to attempt anything in public.

But when your eyes landed on that brand-new lingerie set wrapped primly on the nearest mannequin, you had a wonderful idea.

“No, are you being serious? Why? Why?”

His blunt fingernails sunk into the leather arms of the desk chair, scraping upward, as equally frustrated with your cruel antics as he was aroused and impatient. Maybe it was somewhat meanspirited to strut the thin, beautiful lace and ribbons curled around your body in a baby pink, and indeed, there was a moment where you pondered leniency, though, you severed the thought, because Jeonghan would surely tear each garter and bow from your outfit like it hadn’t cost anything at all. Pursing your bottom lip, you smiled, sinister and cold.

“I am being serious,” you stated firmly, nearing closer to his desk chair, “your hands won’t touch a single part of me, Jeonghan.”

He glared up at you with a dark, flickering fire in his eyes,  as if he were already weighing the consequence to breaking such rules. You began to sit comfortably on the boy’s lap, curling your arms around his neck while maintaining the intensity of the stare.

“And, if you do, I’ll grab my things and leave. It’ll just be you and your hand, for the rest of the night.” Purposefully, you brushed delicate lips, featherlight, along his warm, red-tinged ear, to which you could practically feel him harden underneath you upon the whisper, “and there’ll be nothing you can do other than remembering how good it felt when I was in your lap, grinding down on you, baby boy, just like this.”

Slowly and with focus, you rolled your hips in a deep, smooth gyration, ensuring Jeonghan felt the heavy pressure against all the right places. His hands keened for your waist, so you immediately reminded him of your unnegotiable rules, forcing them to settle on the arms of the chair. He drew in a sharp breath. And then, he started to laugh, like a beaten protagonist receiving their first, acrid taste of defeat. Jeonghan titled his head back to smile very lazily at you.

“Evil.” He said. “You’re fucking evil.”

“Mmhm,” you agreed, continuing the unhurried, steadfast pace of your hips rolling back and forth, observing with poorly hidden glee as the boy lost his smile, “but you’ll still cum, won’t you, Jeonghan?”

Before he could sneak in a clever rebuttal, you adjusted yourself even lower onto his lap, digging your nails down the back of his neck as you circled a thorough motion against his erection. Admittedly, it was difficult to maintain the domineering act. Even through the black material of the slacks, his cock was managing to create a friction with your lace underwear, a friction so rough yet fruitless that you were already tempted to take him, full and aching inside you. In order to distract yourself, you licked the tender side to Jeonghan’s neck, looping your tongue in a messy, warm pattern overtop a sensitive vein.

“Ff-fuck,” Jeonghan stuttered, scraping harshly along the chair, “you devilish little girl, c-can’t believe you’re g’nna make me cum like this—b-but it feels so damn good the way you’re moving, baby.”

You suckled until you’d drawn a shiny, wine-coloured hue to the surface of Jeonghan’s skin, to mark a dark bruise as a keepsake. He kept breathing through a parted mouth, each exhale shakier and more erratic than the last, his knuckles hard like stone while they gratingly tensed and betrayed his frustration at not being able to touch you. With slow, teasing hands, you began to drag them down his chest, nails clawing at the expensive fabric of his dress shirt. Jeonghan squirmed. He clenched his jaw and cursed rough under his breath. You focused on where his cock was poking you to apply the most dizzying pressure thus far, rolling your hips until something inside Jeonghan snapped and you felt him cum.

“Jesus—fuck!” He shouted, the loudest you had ever heard the boy, and there was a notable tear in his usually soft voice. “Keep going, keep going,” Jeonghan panted, squeezing his eyes shut, “keep fucking moving just like that, sweetheart. A-Ahh, ff-fuck, feels s-so good—"

At the pulsating sensation right beneath your core, you submitted to Jeonghan’s wish and continued grinding down, even if you were beginning to tire at your lack of stamina. However, there came a point where you were too breathless to maintain such a pace, so you trickled to a halt and steadied your hands on his firm shoulders. He tossed his head back, neck leaned against the edge of the chair. The hazy, glass look to his brown eyes and the rose glow smeared on each cheek made it appear as though he’d just touched down from heaven. As you shifted slightly in Jeonghan’s lap, you noticed the white stream of cum that had soaked through his pants, and that somehow, he was still hard.

“I didn’t know you could beg, Jeonghan.” You remarked, grinning, meanwhile attempting to catch your breath.

He shook his head. “Don’t expect it too much.”

“Well, I can tell you’re satisfied, either way.”

He chuckled, brushing some of the loose hairs from his face. You felt his hands settle upon your waist’s bare skin, warm and squeezing. In that moment, you just didn’t possess the same acuteness to scold him.

“Almost,” Jeonghan huffed, “but, what do you suppose you’ll do to please yourself, sweetheart?” He leaned forward, until his forehead was just a sliver away from bumping yours, the boy sliding a hand down your abdomen and beneath the lace underwear. As he stroked the tips of his fingers along your slit, he smirked. “I’ve never felt someone so wet before, dripping all over my fingers and I’m barely touching you. Did it turn you on that much, sweetheart? Feeling my hard cock right underneath this needy pussy of yours?” Jeonghan teased with a smirk and a low, calm tone. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to duct tape his mouth shut or allow him to keep talking, as there was something about his honeyed voice which wound you up like clockwork.

Yet, before you could even start the syllable of a response, Jeonghan pushed you strongly from his lap, his hands glued to your waist as he guided you to stumble against the bed. Your back hit the mattress, the sheets puffing up around you. And then, Jeonghan was kissing you, lips clashing messily while he took advantage of the switched power dynamic to run his hands over your every inch. One second, they were cupping your breasts overtop the baby pink bralette. Another second, they were grabbing at your ass and kneading so desperately. You were being ravaged. It was overwhelming, it was gratifying, it was needed beyond belief.

“Hey,” Jeonghan said, separating his mouth from the side of your throat to stare at you with an oddly sentimental eye, “before I get all up in your guts and everything— you look beautiful. Even if you did choose this outfit to be a big fucking tease.” His fingers brushed down the edge of your jaw, and he smiled at you in a way that wasn’t clever or teetering on sarcasm. Your heart leapt like a little frog in your chest.

“Really?” You questioned him, not because you didn’t believe the lingerie suited your figure, but rather, you weren’t expecting this sweetness from someone who was always so quick to get rid of you.

He nodded, raising a suspecting eyebrow. “Yeah, really. What, you think I’m lying to you or something?”

“No, I don’t think that,” you answered quickly, curling your fingers into the bedsheets, “I just—I wasn’t… Uh, never mind.”

“Alright,” Jeonghan laughed, lowering his head to delicately kiss your cheek, and then your neck, “you’re a bit strange sometimes, you know that?” He mumbled against the sensitive skin, even daring to dig his knee between your thighs to make you increasingly pliable.

“I-I know,” you stuttered, unable to help your embarrassing voice crack. But you still smiled, letting Jeonghan explore and pleasure your body with an uncharacteristic tenderness for the remainder of the night.

Twelve am.

Usually, at this time, you’d be at the bottom floor of his apartment complex, seated by the lobby water fountain. You’d be examining your face with a pocket mirror, awaiting the yellow taxi cab, and trying to avoid eye contact with the wealthy businesspeople filtering from the elevators in glamourous congregation.

However, tonight was different.

Tonight, you were in Jeonghan’s bed, with a white sheet covering the lower half of your bodies, an ear pressed to his bare, warm chest while you breathed him in like the wind on a bright summer’s day. You felt his fingertips trace long figure eights down your spine and then dance back up to the subtle curve of your shoulder blades. Sometimes it tickled, other times it was a touch so soft it was hardly there, and in between you thought he might have been tracing words. The room was quiet. But good quiet— the comfortable quiet. And then you heard Jeonghan speak into the crown of your head while his hand stilled at your waist.

“Did that salon ever call you back?” He asked.

You sighed, focusing on your thumb which brushed a small freckle on his pectoral muscle. “They emailed me, and said their position was already filled, but that they’ll try to look for another opening.”

Jeonghan rubbed your hip. “That’s good, right? I mean, they didn’t just flat out reject you. They’re gonna keep you in mind.”

“It’s better than what I’m used to getting,” you answered, pressing your lips together and tilting your head up at him.

And, that’s when it struck you, like someone had just clanged a bell right beside your head. You were still in Jeonghan’s bed. You were still in Jeonghan’s apartment. You were still with Jeonghan. Feeling as though you’d broken some vastly significant cardinal rule, you operated on a strange basis of panic and autopilot, already seated at the edge of the mattress while you tucked your underwear back on.

“I’m sorry,” you spewed, reaching for your shirt next and straightening it out frantically in your lap, “the time escaped me. I-I know I have to go. And, my Love Card, I think it’s in my purse or—”

“Can you slow down?” Jeonghan laughed, casting a hand through his loose, disarrayed hair which you had admittedly tugged earlier in the night like your life depended on it. The boy’s arms circled around your midframe, hugging your back to his chest. “I don’t care about that stupid card right now,” Jeonghan hummed into your ear, “stay.”

At that, you almost choked. “Stay? You want me to stay?” You repeated dumbly, dropping the inside-out shirt back onto your lap.

The coldest shiver split down your spine as Jeonghan buried his face against your neck, taking a breath of your scent, kissing your skin.

“Yeah,” he purred, now pecking the soft spot behind your ear, “I want you to stay. Or, if you really want to go home, I won’t stop you.”

“No,” you replied almost immediately, melting into his voice, his touch, his body, “trust me, I’d rather be here.”

Jeonghan’s arms relaxed their snug grip.

“I figured that.”

Even though you had strongly protested the idea, Jeonghan succeeded at wearing you down akin to an ocean tide forming whorls into rock, and now you were seated before your vanity with an array of makeup scattered at your fingertips as you prepared for a dinner. His parents were going to be there, in addition to some business partners and close friends, which sounded like something from a hellish nightmare. In fact, Jeonghan himself didn’t seem all that eager to attend. He’d been sprawled across your bed for the past half hour, with the long drapes of his coat fanned around him, as he flipped through an old magazine. You were certain he just didn’t want to tough another dinner alone.

After focusing a spritz of perfume to your neck (the orchid one, bought by Jeonghan, because he was very insistent that you not smell like his mother) you shut off the vanity lights and sighed.

“I think I’m ready… Physically though, not mentally.”

Jeonghan yawned, tossing the magazine aside before he pushed himself to sit upright on the bed. He rubbed at his eye.

“Trust me, it’s not going to be the big, royal midnight ball that you’re picturing. My parents have these dinners all the time. You’ll be the centre of attention for a few minutes, and then it’s pretty much just business central from there. You’ll be lucky if you can even get a word in. I stopped trying months ago.”

You smiled at him, feeling slightly better about the situation, and took one last, scrutinizing glance in the mirror. The dress was simple yet elegant, a mute shade of dark blue with a beaded, crystal belt that you had forgotten about, as you discovered it laying behind a stool shoved in your closet. The fabric had an elastic tightness to it and was hemmed shorter than you remembered, just above your fingertips. You tried not to judge or overthink the figure which reflected in the vanity glass, or what Jeonghan’s parents might assume upon their first introduction to someone who was so clueless on their accolades. It was merely a dinner.

“Stop worrying so much,” Jeonghan hummed, sensing that you were at the forefront of a spiral. His hands settled to your hips and he caught your eye through the mirror. “No one is going to judge you, or poke fun at you, or say anything mean. I promise.” He then grabbed your winter coat off the bed, helping you slide into the arms, and even doing up the buttons. “You’re gorgeous.” Jeonghan said, tapping your chin.

It didn’t help that he could fluster you so easily.

Joshua wasn’t at all who you expected him to be, while simultaneously encompassing everything you would indeed expect from the position of Jeonghan’s closest friend. He was a juxtaposition personified. Slick, ash blonde hair combed into a handsome wave, eyes which twinkled like the restaurant’s diamond chandelier, and a soothing voice which could be a cup of warm milk on a frosty day, though his interactions with Jeonghan portrayed him as childlike and frivolous. He greeted you, at first with a quick hug. You heard him exhale deeply.

“Wow,” Joshua commented, retreating to shake your hand, “you smell amazing! I mean—well, I hope that doesn’t sound weird.”

You laughed, and wondered how someone could smile with such a prettiness. “Thank you! I’d be upset if you didn’t notice, actually.”

Joshua continued to shake your hand. “Oh, yeah, agree. It’s wonderful to meet you. Jeonghan’s been trying to hide you, it seems.”

“Go shove a break stick in your mouth,” Jeonghan scoffed, blowing a loose piece of hair from his eyes, “and stop shaking her hand like that. You’re gonna snap her whole arm off.”

Finally, Joshua released his grip, and your arm fell back to your side like a limp noodle. His cheeks were starting to turn pink.

“I was not. Anyways—” he nodded at you, “like I said, nice to meet you. I hope we’ll talk more tonight and I’ll pick your brain.”

“Sure thing,” you answered, waving the boy off as he returned to the dinner table before facing Jeonghan. “He seems nice.”

“And totally into you. I haven’t seen him shake someone’s hand like that since I introduced him to Elouise from France. He’s gonna turn into a lost puppy all over again. Bet he’ll try to sweet talk you later.”

“Can’t wait.” You grinned, already giggling through your teeth.

Jeonghan c0nsquently thwapped your forehead with his finger.

However, meeting Jeonghan’s parents was starkly different than the good-humoured Joshua. They both appeared cross, and firm, and before you had even shaken their hands you were forced to wipe yours against your dress. The father was a bit softer around the edges, showing you a pleased smile that reminded you instantaneously of Jeonghan, while the mother was stone-faced and seemed as though she hadn’t slouched since birth. Even when she complimented your fragrance, there was a tartness to her voice which made it sound disingenuous.

“Well, Jeonghan,” she said, clasping her hands together, “I’m glad to finally see you with a lovely lady on your arm. I didn’t think it was possible that you could settle for someone after being with Baejin.”

“Oh?” The father piped up, “you’re my son’s girlfriend?”

Before you could respond, Jeonghan had beaten you to it.

“No, she’s…” he bit his lip hard, “she’s just a friend. Mom kept nagging that I always come to these dinners alone, and she was down.”

For some reason, it felt like someone had pierced a pin straight through your heart – a very tiny hole which shouldn’t hurt all that much, yet stung like flesh to orange, glowing metal. In fact, there was a visible shift in your countenance, from a nervous smile to a sunken frown, but you were able to veil it very quickly and pretend nothing was wrong. Why should you feel so disappointed that Jeonghan had introduced you as a friend? The promiscuous nature of your relationship didn’t immediately loop you two together as soulmates, or lovers, or even the mildest beginnings of boyfriend and girlfriend. You tried to refocus yourself.

Jeonghan’s mother nodded. “Even if she isn’t your next Baejin, it’s nice to meet a new face. The dinner talk might bore you no doubt.”

“No, not at all—” you forced a smile, “I’m just excited to be here.”

It was easier to endure the night than you thought, because true to Jeonghan’s word, the conversation was a bunch of business lingo that you didn’t exactly understand, with the occasional question flitted to you by Joshua who sat across the table. You had completely emptied your glass of ice water, and were halfway through your wine when two fancy, tuxedoed servers stopped by the table to collect everyone’s dishes. A distant relative was seated to Jeonghan’s right, and they had swept him into a discussion of whether or not he was interested in pursuing his current degree or if he would abandon it to work fulltime for his father’s brand. Meanwhile, Joshua had whisper-shouted your name.

You raised an eyebrow, “what?”

“Are you getting dessert?” The blonde asked, already shoving a small, plastic menu to his face. “I can’t decide what I want.”

“I guess so,” you picked up an extra menu sitting by a purple wine bottle and started to browse the list of decadent food.

Joshua sighed, “I usually get the cheesecake… but, I’m torn. What if I want the caramel apple baked pudding with black truffles?”

“The caramel apple baked what?” You questioned, laughing from the absolute mouthful that Joshua just worded so effortlessly.

“I know, I know. It’s a jumble. But my family and I come here all the time so I’ve gotten these names down pat. What are you thinking?”

“Um, I’m not sure. I’ve never been here before, actually.”

His eyes, glistering and delighted, locked with yours. “Can I recommend you something, then?” Joshua said while smiling. “Red velvet cake. It’s right at the bottom. Not to mention the slice is huge so there’s always leftovers for the next day. It’s a favourite here.”

The relative responsible for dragging Jeonghan into another trite conversation concerning his future had excused themselves from the table. He was finally able to return his attention to you, and you slid over the dessert menu so he could pick something. You noted that Jeonghan’s hand had fallen onto your thigh, right at the hem of your dress, and you could only surmise that trouble was brewing. Joshua took a sip from his water glass, then settled it back on the table while subtly eyeing you.

“So, I’ve never seen you around before. Are you in school?”

You tapped your nails against the white table cloth, shaking your head, “no—I had to drop my program. It just wasn’t what I thought it would be and, well, I took a huge hit financially. So, no school.”

“Not everything is going to be a bullseye,” Joshua said, “I’m sure there’ll be more opportunity down the road. This other friend of mine, his name is Mingyu, he does this thing called the Love Café—” the boy then gestured to Jeonghan, “and I know he’s done it once before. Have you heard of it? Maybe it’s not up your alley, but I hear it’s good money.”

The suggestion had quite visibly stunned you. It seemed that Jeonghan was intent to keep the foundation of your relationship as covert as possible, which prompted his ‘friends’ comment before dinner, therefore you had no choice but to follow the rouse, even if the boy was currently sliding his hand further up the inside of your thigh, pushing inch by inch under your dress. Jeonghan didn’t contribute a single word.

“Um, the name sounds familiar. I’ll have to look it up.” You then glanced at him, hanging his head over the menu like a child who forgot their glasses, probably hiding some million-watt smirk.

“Are you having dessert?” Joshua asked his friend.

Jeonghan sat up straight, nodding, “I am.”

“The red velvet cake?”

“Vanilla ice cream. The one that comes on the skillet.”

“Oh, that one’s seriously good,” Joshua groaned, “ask them to put a chocolate chip cookie on the side. It gets all warm and—”

“Joshua,” the young lady beside him, probably in her late twenties, with petal-shaped, twinkling eyes similar to his and ice-like smooth skin, suddenly wrapped her hand around his arm, “can you come outside with me for a few minutes? I think I left my wallet in the car.”

He pushed out his chair. “Sure thing—guys, I’ll be back in a few. I need to help my cousin. If the waiter comes, order for me please.”

While you might have promised Joshua to follow through on his unnecessarily complicated apple pudding, such thoughts were quick to be discarded the moment he’d left the table, as Jeonghan had given you much more to think about. The boy’s hand was wedged between the apex of your thighs with two fingers pressed flat against your underwear. You felt heat, and the faintest burning of pleasure, one that yearned for you to start a gentle undulation against his hand because your unruly body was already eager for stimulation. Jeonghan picked up his wine glass.

“What are you doing?” You tried to shelter the whisper from the table���s guests, hoping the business speech was too engrossing.

As laid back as an ironing board, Jeonghan took a long gulp from his drink, swishing the wine from cheek to cheek before he swallowed. He set the wide-rimmed glass back down and wiped his mouth.

“What do you mean, ‘what am I doing?’” He said, raising an eyebrow at you as though you’d conjured a make-believe tale. However, the instant he started to slide up his index finger so it could push firmly against your clit, a smirk penetrated that complacent expression.

You grabbed his wrist, stared him dead in those honey-brown eyes. “Are you insane?” the whisper was harsh, “we’re in public.”

He tilted his head indifferently. “What’s your point, love? I get to play with your pussy whenever I want. It’s mine now. Remember?”

The dirty-mouthed comment split a fire beneath your cheeks like a flint cracking steel. Not only that, but Jeonghan studied each minor contort of your face as he slipped two digits beneath your underwear, brushing his fingertips ever so softly around your sensitive clit. You gulped, dry and gritty, hating that your thighs were starting to spread.

“Jeonghan!” A voice called his name from down the table.

Fear gripped your poor heart like latex glove. It was an older relative, asking him to pass down the remaining bottle full of wine.

“Oh, such a nice boy!” She chirped.

You nearly gawked at the remark considering the immoral placement of his hand and what he was doing. On the contrary – as much as you wanted to be embarrassed for allowing Jeonghan to touch you in public viewing– he knew his talents much too well, and the manner in which he used your own arousal to lubricate the massaging motion of his finger to your clit was an astounding bliss. Your legs fell wider apart, inviting him to explore a more rigorous touch, and that’s when Jeonghan curled his two fingers inside of you until his knuckles couldn’t fit.

Before your pinched expression could be caught by anyone at the table, you looked straight down at your lap, watching his wrist work beneath the navy-blue fabric. In fact, very faintly, you could hear the squelch from his digits pumping deep and slow into your warmth. Your bottom lip was quivering as he drew them out, now running the long length of his fingers upward to graze beneath the hood of your clit. He repeated a stroking gesture. It triggered the nerves to swell and pulse.

“I see Joshua walking back,” Jeonghan murmured, an arrogance thick in his voice, “and you don’t want him to find out about this, do you? Or, maybe I’m wrong.” He slid his entire hand beneath your underwear and cupped your centre, squeezing like he owned it. “Maybe you want him to know you’re such a whore of a girl that you’ll take my fingers anywhere. I mean, look at how much you’ve opened your legs, and I didn’t even ask you to. I love when you behave just for me, honey.”

Joshua collapsed back at the table with a huff, combing some snow flurries from his hair. “We found the wallet.” He said.

Yet, you couldn’t even bring yourself to face him. Jeonghan had spread your lips with his index and ring finger, using his middle digit to make rhythmic, deep circles around the bud. An erotic whine escaped your teeth and Joshua’s eyes widened; his face tinged with concern.

“Are you alright?” He questioned. “Did you get a Charlie horse?”

“N-No, I’m fine, really.” You composed yourself with a weak smile, and took a sip from your wine. “I got one of those rib pains.”

The blonde boy winced. “Ouch, those hurt big time.”

Honestly, you didn’t think it was possible to endure dessert without revealing to some degree that you were being, well, stretched open by Jeonghan. It was sheer torture staring at the waiter while he took your order, knowing the boy was lazily pumping his fingers inside you with a half-smirk seated so comfortably to his face. When that huge, delicious slice of cream red velvet cake was placed before you on the table, you could only fork a few pathetic bites, and when Joshua offered you to try a spoonful from his warm apple pudding, you nearly squealed the word no as Jeonghan rolled your sore clit between his fingertips. The most egregious aspect to the entire daubable was that the boy stripped your orgasm from you at the very last second, like stopping a rollercoaster just before it tips over the downhill plummet.

“How was the ice cream?” Joshua asked him innocently.

You observed with horror as Jeonghan brought that sinful hand to his mouth, lapping his tongue against his two fingertips as though he were actually savouring a sweet and flavourful vanilla.

“Delicious.” He grinned, catching your mortified stupor from the corner of his eye. “I’d taste it again in a heartbeat, Shua.”

Dropping the slice of bread into a shallow bowl, you used the spatula to submerge it underneath the milk, egg and cinnamon mixture until it was completely coated. Then, you slid the bread onto your buttered frying pan to let its surfaces crisp and brown. Since you began utilizing the service granted by the Love Café, life at your depressing excuse for an apartment was becoming more bearable, though your ultimate goal would be to ditch the paper-thin walls and insult-spewing neighbours once money was no longer a prevalent issue. You were still insistent on supporting yourself too, if you could ever score a job.

You flipped the bread onto its opposite face, pressing it down with the spatula as the pan sizzled and the butter popped. A few days had passed since your last intimacy with Jeonghan, and the proof would have been stamped to your Love Card if the boy had actually written his initials like usual. The thing was, Jeonghan – who had always been so firm and unwavering on the rules of the café – was now skirting about the regulations as though they were optional. There were days when he didn’t even initial the card, but still delivered his transactions. In fact, you were almost positive that sex had happened more than twelve times and that you could be renewing your card if wanted (you didn’t).

As silly and cliché as it sounded, you liked Jeonghan. You constantly thought about him and missed him and wondered what he was doing while you were trapped in bed listening to another argument between your spiteful neighbours. There was always a deep, electric pounding in your chest upon weaving the tips of your fingers along his skin, touching him, exploring him. Yet, when he held you close, tucked your body tight against his like there was nothing surrounding you but ice, comfort found a home in your belly like a warm, homecooked meal.

After spilling some icing sugar and strawberries across the toast, now fried a delicious shade of golden-brown, you took a seat at the counter and dug in. There had been an occasion where Jeonghan brought you breakfast after warping your legs into complete gelatine (you had no idea that kitchen table sex could be so fiery and passionate), which proved to be a pleasant morning, where you could still feel the softness of his thumb as he kindly brushed some whipped cream from your bottom lip. You sighed, sticking a strawberry into your mouth. How foolish it might be to fall this far and this devotedly for someone like him.

But you didn’t want to stop yourself.

In fact, you reached for your phone across the counter, swiped into your messages, and decided to be bold. You texted him.

[  9:29 AM ]: Hey! I know that I’m not supposed to send you anything unrelated to our business lol, but

[9:29 AM ]: Just wondering if you’re available to grab a coffee with me or something along those lines?

Setting the phone down and turning it over so you wouldn’t be tempted to helplessly wait for a notification, you continued eating. After scraping the last few pieces of toast and syrup around the plate, there was a vibration and a quick, ding! Strangely, you were starting to sweat.

[ Jeonghan | 9:34 AM ]: Sorry. In a lecture rn.

Of course, your surge of bravery immediately dehydrated, and you decided it was best to pretend that you hadn’t asked him anything at all – for your confidence’s sake. The next two hours were spent cleaning the kitchen, taking a short walk outside the complex to feel the Northern air refresh your face, and finally, a long bath, in which you nearly fell asleep and drowned as the steam lulled your eyes shut. While wrapping your body snug in that new, hot pink bath towel, you heard a knock at the door. You assumed it was the painter who occupied the room directly below yours, as you had borrowed his vacuum the night before, though you weren’t exactly raving at the thought of answering him in a towel.

However, by squinting through the fisheye lens, you were shocked (and greatly relieved) to discover that it wasn’t the middle-aged painter dressed in his splattered, dirty overalls, but Jeonghan.

And he was holding a drink.

You unlocked the door.

“Uh, hello after all. What are you doing here?”

He smiled at you and held up the cardboard cup, “my lecture ended, and I thought I’d do you a solid. Couldn’t remember if it was two sugars-one cream, or two creams-one sugar. So I tossed a coin.”

“What exactly was the result?” You giggled.

“Heads,” Jeonghan answered, “two sugars-one cream it is.”

“You’re lucky that’s correct.”

Accepting the warm cup from his hand, you set it carefully on the kitchen counter. When you returned to the door, Jeonghan was evidently ogling you. He really suited the image of a casual university student when he wasn’t dressed to gems and jewels in his sumptuous clothing.

“I knew the hot pink towel would look good on you.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not dropping it, so forget it.”

“Whoa,” he chuckled, shaking his head, “I didn’t ask you to drop it, sweetheart. I’d rather you not actually, with this door wide open and everything.”

“Did I really just hear that from you, Mr, Dinner Table?” Folding your arms, you stared him down with an accusing expression.

He held up one finger in defense. “First of all, that was under the table, so unless someone bumped their fork or something, then we were pretty much safe. This is you dropping your whole towel right in the doorway like there isn’t a weirdo probably peeping you across the hall as we speak. And I’m not letting anyone look at you like that, ever.”

“Fine,” you sighed, hoping he couldn’t spot the flustered heart pumping your chest beneath the towel, “you’ve made your point.”

Jeonghan checked his silver wrist watch, “fuck. I gotta get going, need to be at the studio so I can be a taper dummy again.”

“Oh, okay,” you nodded, “talk to y—”

Suddenly, the boy was cupping each side of your face in his hands, and his lips pressed soft but quick to your forehead. Jeonghan then pinched your thigh under the towel, a gesture which felt oddly endearing rather than sexual, before he left the corridor.

“Later!” He’d called.

Shutting the door, you returned to your seat at the counter, holding the coffee cup up to your mouth as you took a small, nervous sip.

How could you let yourself fall this easily for him?

Jeonghan’s washroom was somehow nicer than your entire apartment, and you were fairly certain that your eyes had never seen so much white-grey marble, all squeaky-clean and aglow with lights. He’d shot you a text roughly an hour ago, right after he was released from the painful effort required to keep Joshua’s peewee soccer players in check, wondering if you were available to come over. Of course, the innocence to the term ‘come over’ was nothing more than a euphemism, a means of sugar coating what Jeonghan actually intended: to be inside you no doubt. And since the boy was so drained and unwilling to instigate any work himself, Jeonghan decided that a steaming, hot bath should do.

Well – a bath which involved you seated on his dick. The tub was dark grey tile, square-shaped, and practically the size of a small jacuzzi. It even had a bench to sit on. While it had been difficult at first to simply cockwarm the boy – when all you could feel was how deeply he spearheaded into your sensitive spot and how this shock would ripple from your abdomen at even his gentlest movement– you knew he wasn’t looking to make things quick and temporary. Therefore, you settled into his lap, wrapping your arms around Jeonghan’s neck while his circled your waist beneath the water. Both of you were starting to fall asleep.

“Jeonghan,” you whispered, lifting your head from his shoulder, only to remember that you were indeed naked and this heat lapping around you was definitely not a blanket, “can I tell you something?”

With his eyes still shut, he nodded, his fingers digging appreciatively at your hips. “Of course you can, baby.” He replied, his voice sounding deeper than usual as he orientated on the edges of sleep.

Smiling, you combed through the damp hairs at his nape, your voice reverberating like a musical instrument off the marble. “Remember the salon place? They called me two days ago, said they had an opening for me and that I could start next Monday. I… I wanted to text you about it, like, as soon as it happened. But I wasn’t sure if I should.”

“What? Really?” Jeonghan was staring at you now, his head straightened from its leisurely position against the edge of the tub and cocked with interest. The fact he seemed so intrigued, that you could read the genuine excitement building up in those brown eyes, had almost made you happier than the salon’s phone call. “Congratulations!” He leaned forward to kiss you, pecking your lips chastely the first time, and then slower come the second, his hands squeezing your thighs.

After a tiny laugh, you sighed contentedly. “Thank you. It’s going to be so nice having my own cashflow and everything. And if I can work my way up and become like, a kickass hair stylist? Can you imagine?”

“Should I grow my hair out more so you can practice cutting it? You’ve got a steady hand, don’t you?” Jeonghan asked, mostly teasing, as you could imagine his parents harping him during his next session at Opal Studio if he looked as though he’d ran through some hedge clippers.

Returning the affection, you kissed the rosy tip of his nose. “I think my hands are pretty steady. We’ll find out I guess, and we’ll know for sure if a huge chunk of your hair falls to the floor.”

Your laughter immediately mingled, and you hid your smile against the boy’s neck, a very moonstruck, loopy smile which felt like riding a blazing comet between the stars. If you were legitimately able to climb higher amongst the business, then you could picture a life in which you didn’t need to lean on Jeonghan and the Love Café for financial support. In fact, there were moments where you felt rather dirty using his money even when he was completely insistent on such matters, like buying food and paying off bills. You held tight to a certain hope, that you could become independent again, and maybe, just maybe, be able to keep this beautiful boy whom you once thought would hate you.

His fingers tapped up your spine, urging you to face him.

“Seriously,” Jeonghan said, “I’m happy for you.”

“I know,” you answered, so quietly he could hardly hear it.

And then, you decided to kiss Jeonghan, placing your damp hand upon his cheek while your mouths slotted together. The contact had lost its grace almost instantly, and the kiss turned from a sweet gesture to a sensuality so thick you could feel it swelter the air and pool between your legs. He offered his tongue for you to suckle by sliding it smoothly into your mouth, and from there, Jeonghan’s intended relaxation had vanished. His hands grazed to the front of your body, reaching up and sliding back and forth over each breast. It wasn’t until Jeonghan began massaging his thumbs in circular motions around your nipples that you moaned into his mouth, a sound which flicked a smirk to his face.

Once his lips were shiny and slick with your saliva, he moved each kiss down the side of your neck, now pinching at your nipples, even twisting gently and making sure to ease the dull throb by rubbing them afterward. It was becoming unbearable. You needed to move. However, the second you started a rhythm in Jeonghan’s lap, he shook his head.

“Be still,” he told you, lightly gripping your chin.

The desperation in your whine was horribly apparent, almost soaking each word. “No Jeonghan, I-I can’t do that anymore—” ignoring him, you continued to grind your hips and move the water around you, feeling his engorged head tick against that one spot of insane pleasure, “I need t’cum now, all over your cock.” With every bounce in his lap, you begged, “please, please, please.” This prompted Jeonghan to grab your waist much tighter than usual and slam you down, holding you still.

“No, not like that,” he grunted, and you wondered if his control was simply otherworldly or if he was just that talented at hiding how good he felt. “I’ll make you cum, sweetheart,” Jeonghan nodded, “but you can’t move. I just want you to sit there, all the way down.”

He then leaned in close to your face, nearly pressing his forehead to yours, and that’s when you felt his thumb brush with a featherlight, fleeting touch across your clit. The sudden stimulation jerked your body. Jeonghan bit his lip and grinned while continuing the sensitive touch, the pressure becoming heavier with each minute that passed. Your thighs started to tremble, and your moans were echoing around the washroom.

The honeyed dirty talk crawled up Jeonghan’s throat. “You’re such a cute little cocksleeve, sweetheart,” he purred, titling his head as he rubbed his thumb faster, “oh, look at you, baby. Shaking and crying and taking it like it’s the only thing you’re good for—” a messy kiss to calm you down, thin strings of saliva hanging in the air each time your mouths separated, “I bet you’re gonna cum for me soon, right?” The boy encouraged, keeping his forehead flush to yours so he could observe with utmost clarity the beautiful contortions of your face. “I know you are, sweetheart. Because it feels so good, right?” You nodded frantically, digging your fingers into his neck like a cat sinking in its claws. Jeonghan’s thumb pushed beneath the hood of your clit, directly massaging the soft bud, and the pleasure inside you leapt to a new high which made you dumbly lose all sense.

“Cum.” Jeonghan commanded so gently, his gaze burning against your eyes, squeezed shut. At the straightforward word, you allowed the sensation to swallow you like a current, and the hot, teary cry you mewled had been quickly snuffed as the boy pushed his lips to yours.

“Can feel you clenching so fucking tight around my cock,” he chuckled, digging his nose into your hair and speaking warmly beside your ear, “and how much you’re throbbing right under my thumb. Must feel so good, sweetheart, cumming all over me like such a good girl.”

You slumped against him, overwhelmed, emptied, and breathing so heavy that you were afraid the oxygen might dwindle completely from your lungs. The fact Jeonghan could remain so composed while buried to the hilt in your heat was something else that frightened you, though, in the moment, you preferred not to think about it, instead concentrating on the distant sensation of Jeonghan drawing galactic shapes to each your shoulder blades.

Hopefully, he’d let you stay the night.

Once you started the receptionist job at the hair salon, you had bumped into Joshua on a Friday evening. While his platinum blonde look was indeed enchanting and princely, he complained that it was difficult to maintain the roots, and that he often found himself back in the stylist’s chair for a touch up. He’d come in on a whim. Luckily – due to the late hour – there was an open seat, and Joshua puffed a great sigh of relief as he hooked his jacket onto the salon coat hanger. Curious if there was more behind the reason to his abrupt appearance, you conversed with him while he waited for the stylist to tidy up her work area.

That’s when Joshua informed you of the Opal’s Galleria Night, a fashion exhibition which would display Mr. Yoon’s newest edition for his upcoming Spring line. Joshua seemed surprised that you hadn’t known about the Galleria, or, that Jeonghan hadn’t mentioned it to you. Oddly enough, Jeonghan had been radio silent the past three days; not a phone call, or a voice memo, or even a text. Yesterday you had hoped to catch him stuck in the books at the library, but the area where he usually sat was occupied by a study group of freshman. It concerned you a little.

An ungraceful quickie in the washroom after his three-hour lecture ended on Tuesday was your last encounter. Not to mention, there was only one more opening left on your Love Card.

“He didn’t say anything,” you told Joshua, pretending to act indifferent “so… I don’t think he wants me there. It’s not a big deal.”

Yet, that’s not how you truly felt. There had to be some reason for the boy’s keeping you in the dark. Did he not want to explain the ‘friends’ trope to all the Galleria members, like at the dinner? Or, was he thinking that you wouldn’t be interested? It wasn’t easy to seem unphased.

“Jeonghan doesn’t need to invite you,” Joshua had said, “cause I’ll invite you myself. Mr. Yoon said it was more than  fine if I brought someone along. So, why not you? It’ll make the night more fun.”

At first, you vehemently rejected the invite, no matter how sweetly Joshua attempted to rope you into a night of free perfume samples, delicious catering food and a chocolate fountain perfect for dipping strawberries. However, when the hair stylist pulled Joshua away to fix his darkening roots, you had much time to mull over the offer, and even the fact you felt poignant about dismissing it. As you tapped a pen against the desk, staring out the window into the grey, dulling sky, you convinced yourself there could be no harm in attending the Opal’s Galleria Night. Besides, you and Jeonghan weren’t cast in stone. He probably wouldn’t bat any eyelash anyways, knowing his eased nature.

And so, you caught Joshua just before he left.

You told him you’d changed your mind.

When Jeonghan first saw you at the Opal Galleria, it was from across the ballroom that had been temporarily converted into an exhibition space, stood next to a mannequin draped in a cherub-pink slip dress. Almost comically, he gagged on some sparkling champagne held in a thin and tall glass, though he recovered smoothly as to not interrupt the conversation his father was sharing with the dense crowd. You waved at him, not too noticeably of course, but he either didn’t catch it or had decided to ignore the gesture. Shrugging, you tried not to overthink it.

Mannequins were lined up along both sides of the ballroom, adorned in the mild tones baring semblance to Spring, with the blips of baby blues, clementine oranges, and cream violets transforming the Galleria into an acrylic painting. Jeonghan’s mother took the opportunity to offer some spritzes from her most recent line, which had both you and Joshua smelling like a tulip garden. While exploring the room with the blonde boy, you stopped to examine a mannequin dressed in a relaxed, high-waisted pant and a lace camisole that seemed breezy and flowing. This collection was definitely tamer compared to the usual extravagance you had always seen through the store windows and in magazines.

“Would you wear it?” Joshua asked, chewing on a strawberry that he might as well have plucked from thin air.

Tilting your head and squinting, you took a moment to contemplate. “If it was my size I might, if I could find a price hanging off somewhere. But I don’t want to even touch it. Mannequins are weird.”

“No prices are usually displayed at the Gallerias,” Joshua informed you, “though, I will agree. It’s probably a Toy Story thing where they all start moving at night when no one’s here. Spooky, huh?”

You sighed at him, “thanks for the nightmare material.”

Suddenly, there was a tap to your bare shoulder, and you nearly yelped like a cat with a stepped-on tail as Joshua laughed between bites from his juicy strawberry. Turning around, you were met with Jeonghan, who had this flat-lined, unenthusiastic smile hardly touching the corners of his mouth. He looked rather agitated in fact, and you felt cold inside.

“Hey!” Joshua exclaimed, punching his friend’s arm. “Finally escape your dad’s novella-length speech on the pink slip?”

The crowd once gathered around the mannequin had started to disperse, with the visitors now exploring the rest of the outfits.

Jeonghan hardly payed any mind to his friend, throwing out an impatient, “yeah, it was whatever,” before he began questioning you. He started with a rather inhospitable, “why are you here?”

“I invited her,” Joshua announced, “since I ran into her at that salon place. I thought it would be nice and everything. The Gallerias can get pretty stiff if you come alone. Plus, there’s chocolate fountains.”

He appeared nettled, like he’d woken up and spilled coffee on his favourite shirt. You couldn’t place the exact emotion, nor could you identify the reason behind Jeonghan acting as though there were one-hundred choice words waiting to zap off the tip of his tongue. For an instant, you wondered if it would be worthwhile to question him, though there was a shout of the boy’s name and you spotted his parents beckoning him over from across the exhibition. Jeonghan merely rolled his eyes, disappearing just as quickly as he’d arrived to accompany them.

You folded your arms concerningly. “Do you know if something’s wrong? I haven’t seen him like that before.”

Joshua dropped the rest of the strawberry into his mouth. “He’s probably stressing over something. I wouldn’t worry too much. He’s not really one to blow up or get all in your face. I’ll talk to him later.”

Seeing as there were others who wanted to examine the camisole mannequin, you and Joshua seated yourselves at a tiny table right beside the chocolate fountain and catering foods. Though, you were unable to quell the curiosity at what Jeonghan was needed for, prompting your eyes to wander as unnaturally as possible in his direction. He’d just pulled a young woman into a hug, and she was positively gorgeous, dressed in a silk-fabric dress, form fitting and ruby red, with an elegant slit parting up to her right thigh. Her ponytail was slicked shiny as though her hair had been styled professionally, and she flaunted a dreamy smile that reminded you of a vintage female heroine.

And then, like a slap to the face, you realized she must be the woman whom Jeonghan’s parents seemed to be obsessed over.

Baejin, his ex-girlfriend.

She mentioned something into his ear, and they became giggly, the two pulling in again for another short hug. Jeonghan’s father gestured back to the pink slip mannequin, and the four walked over to discuss it for the umpteenth time. You wondered if she was going to be modeling some of the clothing. The assumption felt correct as Baejin touched the dress’ delicate fabric and the beaded, glimmering string tied around the tiny waist. Quickly, Jeonghan fetched the girl a champagne glass, the two drinking together while the father appeared to be entering another in-depth explanation. And, perhaps dignifiedly so, you were feeling mislead and upset. You speculated if this could be the reason for him to keep the Opal Galleria a secret – Jeonghan didn’t want you to catch even a glimpse of him reuniting with Baejin.

They hardly portrayed two ex’s who were now settled on different chapters to their lives. The longer you stared, the angrier, yet, more confused you felt. As you thought before, the odd relationship between you and Jeonghan was not set in stone, and it certainly didn’t ignite with the intention of actual love taking a blossom to your doorstep. It could be that you were jumping to conclusions, misreading things, or disillusioned by your tendency to wishfully think. Nonetheless, the sight still hurt.

Joshua bumped your elbow.

“Are you hungry at all? The scent from the catering tables is getting to me. I can grab a plate for you, if you want.”

With a sigh and a fragile smile, you shook your head. “No, I’ll come with you. Besides, you don’t know what I like anyways.”

“Fair enough.” Joshua agreed.

He stuck out his hand for you to take while rising from the chair.

Grabbing a small plate, you started at the end of the catering table and began making your way down, using the plastic tongs to serve yourself some spring rolls. Joshua filed after you, instead taking a bowl and scooping up some of the fresh zucchini pasta. Admittedly, you had lost your appetite after watching Jeonghan act so cordially with Baejin, though you were determined to not let the plight sour the otherwise enjoyable night you were having with Joshua. Once you reached the chocolate fountain, you swore a sparkle jumped into his eye.

“Why are you so obsessed with the fountain?” You had tried not to laugh as you asked the question.

The blonde boy looked aghast. “Because, it’s beautiful!” He picked up a strawberry arranged neatly around the base, dipping the edge briefly beneath the chocolate. “I mean, how can they make it so delicious and velvety? When I came to my first Galleria, I spent like, half my night just standing by the fountain, eating the fruit.”

You couldn’t help but think Joshua was adorable, and you grinned at him, “well, maybe I don’t have as much of a sweet tooth.”

“Just shush up and try this.”

He held out the strawberry, inviting you for a taste. At first, you paused, wondering if there was some flirtatious intention behind the gesture or if Joshua was just being his overtly kind self. And then, you held onto his wrist and took a bite from the strawberry, the warmth of the melted chocolate satin-smooth against your tongue.

Wiping the edge of your mouth, you nodded. “It is pretty tasty, actually. Let me try dipping it. You make it look weirdly fun.”

After setting down the catering plate, you took Joshua’s strawberry while he picked up a new one. Together, you pushed your fruits beneath the streaming chocolate, twisting it at the green leaf to fully coat the sides. So it wouldn’t drip, you immediately took a huge bite with a hand placed just below your mouth, humming contentedly.

“Okay,” you mumbled, still chewing, “I can see why you like this so much. I think I could get addicted to chocolate strawberry dipping.”

“Me too,” Joshua chuckled, “oh! Look, there’s whipped cream here and I didn’t even see it!” He set down his plate beside yours and grabbed the bottle like an eager little child. Popping off the cap, Joshua shook the can and pressed his fingertip against the nozzle, spraying a white-frosted peak onto the top of another strawberry. You copied him, though you had accidently sprayed too much. Once you licked the cream off your finger, you poked the entire fruit into your mouth like a funfetti-sized cupcake. For some reason, Joshua started giggling at you.

“What?” You glared at him playfully. “What’s wrong?”

Rosy tinges flushed to the arch of Joshua’s cheeks. “Uhm… Well, l-let me just—” he stuttered, cupping his hand gently to your face, his thumb brushing at a spot right below your bottom lip. “You had some whipped cream on your… chin slash lip. Sorry about that.”

“O-Oh, it’s okay.” You were stumbling yourself, tongue darting out instinctively to ensure there wasn’t anything still there.

At random, you felt this prickle tiptoe up the back of your neck, a sensation that was hardly perceptible yet singeing enough for you to notice it. Gulping, you peered toward that faceless mannequin draped in its pink slip dress, toward Jeonghan, Baejin, and his parents who were enthralled in a conversation with her. Jeonghan was glaring so blatantly at Joshua that you’d forgotten how to speak, and you couldn’t even pronounce a single word of warning as the boy started storming his way across the ballroom.

His grip was on your elbow like a viper’s teeth.

“Geez, where’d you come from?” Joshua said, though he was  able to note the tension this time, and Jeonghan’s surly behaviour.

“I need to talk to you,” Jeonghan murmured by your ear, ignoring Joshua yet again, “in the hall just outside the exhibition.”

You didn’t want to agree. Strangely enough, you felt this urge balloon inside you, an urge to cause a gigantic scene with screaming and thick tears and unnecessary curses, because as much as you wanted to dismiss your anger, there were jealous, wronged feelings inside, on fire and itching to escape from your gut. Miraculously, you held your composure, and announced to Joshua that you’d talk to him later.

Jeonghan then tore you into the empty hallway.

It was like a lightning bolt, how quickly he exploded.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Jeonghan ranted, pacing back and forth as the distant echo of music bled through the wall. “Seriously, I don’t text you back for like, three days, and you’re already going on a date with my best friend—” he softened his voice in a purposefully mocking way, “letting him get all delicate with you, feeding you all lovey-dovey style and wiping that cream off your lip. Did you think I wouldn’t see it?”

“Excuse me?” Your brow instantly creased like a folded map, and you felt an intense ache hit the front of your skull. “Um, you’re one to talk! How come you didn’t tell me about the Galleria? Because you didn’t want me to see you with your arm around your ex’s waist? Because you don’t think I’m good enough to show off to your parents?”

Jeonghan gawked at you. “Baejin? For real? You think I’ve been secretly dating her behind your back or something?”

“How am I supposed to know?” You barked, tucking your arms defensively across the chest. And, while it might have been too early into the argument to pit such a statement, you had already started bubbling, and you knew there was nothing to snuff your fire. “Besides, you hardly ever get back to me apart from when you want to fuck!”

At that, the boy was momentarily stumped. What sounded like a rebuttal fizzled at the back of his throat, though it faded away. The silence worried you, because it echoed a confirmation that Jeonghan might’ve actually never seen as you as anything more than an outlet to alleviate his carnality. That, once the Love Café ordeal was finally over with, he could forget you had ever existed like erasing a mistake of smudged lead. The thought made you glassy-eyed and thus, terribly vulnerable. However, you also craved the truth to your relationship.

“Just admit it,” you beseeched him, “admit that you want me only for sex and nothing else. Is that why you didn’t bring up the Galleria? Because you think it’s easier to shove me in the dark when it’s convenient for you? Is that why you were acting so mad?”

He skimmed a hand exasperatedly through his hair. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m not dating Baejin behind your back, I have never once thought you weren’t good enough to show off to my parents, and I didn’t purposefully hide the Galleria from you.”

“Right,” you scoffed, “but you’re fine with labelling me as a friend and pretending like we don’t hook up every week.”

“It’s…” he clenched his teeth and growled in frustration, “it’s complicated, alright? Can’t you just accept that?”

“Complicated?” A shudder coursed down your spine at having to repeat the boy, and the tears sprung from your eyes with such a sharp sting that it became impossible to hold them back. You felt each drop, cold and runny, drip along your face. “That’s the word you’re going to use? You’re going to look straight at me, after the entire span of our relationship since the Love Café, and tell me we’re summed up best as complicated?” Again, the word struck you like a stiff punch. If he was going to regard your connection so trivially, then you didn’t care whether or not he knew the verity of your heart. Like it would affect him anyways.

“I would’ve said we were in love,” you shrugged, watching his expression drop in a mere instant, “but—sure, let’s call it complicated.”

And, with the tears shining like salt stars on your face, you stalked out the building into the softening winter weather.

You didn’t know it could be so difficult to ignore someone, especially when you were supposed to hate them. The effect Jeonghan had on you was almost phantom-like; a constant lingering, even if the boy himself wasn’t palpable and poised right before your eyes.

It had been three days since the outburst at the Galleria. That night, you cried, and wept, and broke out the amber bottle stored beneath your sink which was only sipped from in occasions of complete misery – very well suited to the situation at hand. You had questioned calling the Love Café’s customer service desk to issue a termination of your card, and, at one point, you were standing drunkenly by the toilet contemplating your decision to rip up the red paper and flush it. Though, nothing ever came of either idea. Instead, you faceplanted onto your bed and allowed the intoxicated dizziness to fade black. The next morning, you were faced with multiple texts from Jeonghan, missed phone calls, voice notes. But you didn’t listen or respond to anything.

Complicated. That was the word you kept hearing.

Absolutely not, you had thought that morning, you weren’t ready to speak with him, even if the temptation seemed like it could be promising. The air was still too bitter. And you couldn’t handle another argument.

On the second day after the outburst, you were seated at the receptionist desk in the salon, flicking through a magazine while you became increasingly mindless to the humming of the blow dryer and the potent fragrance of the hair products. When you glanced out the window, you nearly combusted, as both Joshua and Jeonghan were about to enter the salon together, hurrying in from the melted snow and winter’s final downpour. You hid in the breakroom until they left, forcing your co-worker to take your position at the desk. Joshua was apparently getting his hair trimmed while Jeonghan had asked about you at the reception.

“He’s gorgeous!” Your co-worker had immediately gushed to you in the breakroom. “Why are you avoiding someone like that?”

“It’s complicated.” You’d phrased it simply.

Dang it. You hated the fact you’d used that stupid word.

But, on the third day, most of your bitterness was gone.

After breakfast, you were back at the vanity mirror to prepare for work, and while you buffed some makeup to sit seamlessly on the skin with your puffy foundation brush, there was a knock at your door. This time, you didn’t bother peeping through the fisheye lens, because you knew exactly who it was – damn his persistence. Jeonghan’s brown hair had been slightly mused in the wind, and there was a glow as soft as a peach to each his cheeks. But that easygoing, relaxed smile was by far the most heart fluttering. He extended a coffee cup to you. When you reached out, Jeonghan suddenly pulled the coffee away with a tsking sound.

“You can have it only if—” he held up his finger, “you agree to let me in so I can explain myself. Yes, I’m bribing you. And yes, I’m an asshole from time to time. But five minutes at least. That’s all I need.”

For a moment, you wavered, only to mutter a resounding, “fine.”

Despite Jeonghan’s company, you still had work to get ready for, so the boy followed you into the bedroom. He took a seat on the edge of your mattress while you settled back into the vanity chair. Picking through your jar of makeup brushes, you plucked a round, oval-tipped one to apply your eyeshadow. Jeonghan was silent at first, watching you through the mirror as you hurried about the look. It wasn’t perfect, in fact it was a bit sloppy and rushed and there was already some fallout  sitting like a glittered dust on your cheeks, though Jeonghan was staring at you with such fondness, you wondered if the mirror was reflecting the same image. Of course, the Love Card was sitting on your desk too.

“Well,”  you spun around in the chair, pressing your lips together, “I’m waiting for you to explain, y’know. Like you said you would. Technically, you’ve lost a couple minutes, and I should really try to be at the salon early, but I’m still going to give you full time since—"

“I love you.”

“… What?”

“I love you,” Jeonghan repeated himself casually, a slow smile spilling from each corner of his mouth, “I’m in love with you, as deep as I could be, I think. Anyways, you want me to keep saying it? I love you.”

It felt like someone had taken a picture with the blinding glare of its flash, a picture you couldn’t be more unprepared for, the dots still dancing and fumbling across your vision. The moment was disorienting, but you experienced a very fulgurant warmth take shape inside you. It was comforting yet daunting, a sugar rush and a hangover, something so alive you knew you wanted it more than anything else in the world.

Yet, “you… are in love with me?” was all that you could express.

Jeonghan fiddled with the coffee cup in his hands. “You’re a funny girl, you know that? But I can say it a fifth time if you want.”

“N-No, I—I just, I wasn’t expecting—”

“Yeah, I can see that, “ he’d laughed, though it quickly fell into a sigh and suddenly Jeonghan’s temperament had shifted. “Look, I know that night wasn’t pretty. I know I ghosted you. I know I didn’t tell you about the stupid Galleria,” the boy glanced up, catching your eye, “but… I didn’t say anything because I was confused. I knew your Love Card only had one signature left, and just like that… you could be in my bed for the last time. If we’re really gonna get sentimental about it,”

Jeonghan chuckled, scratching his chin a bit shyly, “it could be my last time holding you, and kissing you… I just, I didn’t want it to be like that. But I didn’t know how to confront you about it, so I hid. And I stressed myself out, and I got so stupidly jealous and angry when I saw you with Joshua. That was my bad. I should’ve been upfront.”

Tucking your hands together anxiously in your lap, you nodded, beginning to understand the missing pieces.

“Thank you for saying that.” You murmured, tapping your feet in a nervous rhythm against the floor. “I… I was being unreasonable and jealous too,” you subsequently admitted, “I was assuming things about you and Baejin when I shouldn’t have. I don’t know what I was expecting anyways, that you act like she doesn’t exist? It was dumb, and I was adding pressure. I’m sorry too.” Wanting to lighten the tone, you smiled at him, “I guess we both have our flaws, huh?”

He returned the tender glance and held out the coffee cup.

“I guess we do.”

You grabbed it politely.

Turning around in the chair, you grabbed the bright red Love Card off the vanity, initialed until its last circle, “what should we do with this? I mean, we kind of messed up their rules, fooling around more than twelve times. And, well, I’m not gonna renew it.”

“Oh, let me see.” Jeonghan said.

As soon as you passed the card to him, he ripped it clean in half, crumpled each piece, balled them together in his hands and tossed the shreds into the trash can sat in the corner.

“Well, that was fucking easy,” he smiled, getting up from the mattress, “aren’t you late for work? Do you need a drive?”

You looked at your alarm clock.

“If you can get me there in the next ten minutes, that’d be great.”

Jeonghan headed to the front door while you hurriedly grabbed your coat from the closet and snatched your bag off the floor, resting the strap over your shoulder. With the coffee still in hand, you headed into the living area, looking around in one final swoop to make sure you had everything packed for the day. A sheet of sunlight spilt into the room from outside the window, pale, like the morning sky, yet filling every crevice of the cheap apartment with a dull shine. And for a very fleeting moment, you thought this place wasn’t so abhorrent. It had been your home, your stepping stone, a thumbprint which identified a period of hardship and growth. But, despite this bittersweet taste on your tongue, you couldn’t envision yourself staying.

“Come on,” Jeonghan pinched your hip, “at this rate I’ll get a speeding ticket trying to get you to work on time.”

Turning around, you stuck a kiss to the boy’s cheek, just catching the cool beginning of a smirk on that dazzling face of his as you interlaced your fingers and pulled him into the corridor.

No, you could not stay here.

Not when your future was with Jeonghan.

✧✎ a/n: yeah, so this was clearly A LOT longer than the original love café teehee. i remembered the plot vaguely therefore i refused to reread my first version weufhewif PLS IT MAKES ME CONVULSE SO BAD !! i just had to rewrite the plot and do it some actual justice! i hope this version is a lot better and that you rly enjoyed it! i wish yjh would give me money but i guess we can’t all live in a fantasy world!! thx for reading!!

[bluemusickid]

Ok so I have been this fantasy about Chris Evans lately... the reader and he are friends and Chris has a girlfriend but she’s not satisfying him in the bedroom and you guys get a little tipsy one night and you end up making all his naughty dreams a reality... and there will be lots of dirty talk like, “she can’t make you feel like this... or does her mouth feel as good as my mouth does, etc”... I need you to work your smutty magic on this one! Could be for any of his characters too! Whatever you’d prefer! ❤️

As much as I abhor cheating........this is a sexy one. Thanks for this one, nonnie!!

Pairing:  Andy Barber x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, SMUUT, NSFW, minors DNI, drunk sex, dubcon (if you squint).

A/N: wHEW, this one was a toughie. I wanted to draw the line somewhere lol, but oh well. Hope you like it! MINORS PLS DNI. Not beta’ed, all mistakes are my own. You are responsible for your media consumption. Dividers by @firefly-graphics.

This is my entry to my own challenge (lol). The colour I have chosen is red, which symbolises passion, danger, excitement. <3

You took a swig from your bottle, grimacing at the bitter taste, the sight in front of you even more bitter than the drink itself. It would have to be your worst luck that Andy Barber was here at the party, but his girlfriend as well? Killed you.

It was especially worse since you had a humongous crush on him, which didn’t seem to go away, no matter how hard you tried. It was even worse that you had to act normal around him at work, for fear of being mocked or ridiculed by your coworkers.

Andy Barber had completely encompassed your world and was a part of every waking moment. You watched him get tipsier as time passed, dancing around with his friends, his girl not leaving his side even once. If looks could kill, she’d be dead by now.

Deciding that you needed some air, you stepped out, only faltering a bit as the alcohol was steadily making itself known. Trying to light a cigarette, you heard a few voices from the garage. Your good manners were screaming at you not to eavesdrop, but you couldn’t help it. The liquid courage was winning over.

“So she doesn’t go down on you?” a voice asked. You raised your eyebrows at the question.

“Uh..” you heard the answering voice sigh, followed by a nervous chuckle. Oh my gosh it was Andy. You waited with bated breath for his answer, not knowing what to expect.

"I mean we're happy with each other, she's a great girl, very kind and she's great with Jacob. But there's just no spark." He trailed off, slurring a bit at the end.

You didn't know what to feel about this little tidbit you heard; your brain was telling you that it was wrong to feel good but your senses, your mind was in jubilation. You scuttled off inside before you were caught, this new piece of information even more intoxicating than the alcohol.

You stumbled your way into a bedroom, trying desperately to find a washroom. Why was this place so goddamn big? You mused, relieving yourself, the earlier conversation playing in your head on loop. Shaking yourself mentally, you realised there was nothing you could do about it.

Stepping out, you nearly fell as you bumped into something, your foot getting caught in the doorframe. Strong arms grab onto your biceps, steadying you as you managed to straighten yourself. You looked up to thank the stranger, instead finding yourself looking into the eyes of your dream man.

"Are you ok?" He muttered, his voice soft against your ears. You inhaled sharply, your core tightening in response.

"I am now that you're here." You rasped, unsure of the words coming out of your mouth. Did you just say that? You had no game, generally.

He chuckled, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Who are you and what have you done with my sweet, innocent coworker?"

Mesmerized, you gaze at him in wonder. "Who said anything about me being innocent? I'm not a goody two shoes, I'm different." He looked at you, mildly amused. "Oh yeah? What makes you different?"

"Well, for starters, I know how to go down on my man." You whispered in his ear, moving past him, your hip brushing against his.

You had no time to register when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him, his chest colliding against your back. You gasped, turning around to face him, annoyance etched on his face. “What did you say?” he growled, his breath fanning your face.

Smirking, you ran your fingers through his hair, smoothing the crinkle between his eyebrows. “The walls have ears too, you know.” you murmured, stepping closer to him. The rough material of his pants was grazing your thigh, your core throbbing with need now.

Running a finger down his torso, you stopped at the button of his jeans, looking into his eyes, wanting some reaction. Silently, you softly palmed him through his jeans, revelling in the sharp intake of his breath. You looked up at him, for permission to continue, acceptance slowly seeping into his eyes.

Undoing his zipper, you graze your fingers over his boxers, the tent in his underwear causing your core to clench. 

“Can she get you this hard with just one touch?" You softly whispered, running your nose along his. He closed his eyes, his palms closing into a fist. You could feel him mentally warring with his emotions, his body betraying him.

You entangled your lips with his, tugging on his lower lip, as you pulled down his underwear. "I bet she can't do this."

You ran your tongue in one single strip along his length, the tip of your tongue circling around the tip of his member. He moaned softly, his hands undulating, as he tried to stop himself from burying them into your hair. Grinning salaciously, you said, "Answer me, Andy. Can she?"

He gulped, his mouth thinning into a line. "No." He muttered, through gritted teeth. That's just what you wanted to hear. And so you began your amorous assault, taking him in your mouth till he was buried to the hilt. You swirled your tongue, letting your underside work his length. He groaned, his hands finally making their way into your hair, his resolve now fully broken. Bobbing your head around his length, you could feel him slowly thrusting deeper into your mouth.

Suddenly, he pulled you up, throwing you over his shoulder and dropping you unceremoniously onto the bed. Stunned, you were about to retort, but were cut off by his insistent lips. Gathering your wrists in one hand, he tried to tug off your panties, his impatience winning over as he tore them off, the material dangling limply from one of your legs. He circled your nub, his need to be within you ebbing steadily.

Bracing himself on his arms, his fingers locking with yours, he thrust into you in one move, leaving you breathless. His eyes trained onto you, seeing every emotion on your face, spurred him on, as he pounded into you. There was no other way to describe it except frantic coupling. Crossing your ankles, you pushed him deeper, the new angle hitting your front wall, your thighs quivering from the sensory overload. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? To be fucked thoroughly, like a whore?". You gasped, unable to form coherent thoughts, the depth and intensity in his eyes scaring you a bit. "Drop the act, sweetheart. I've seen you in office, swaying those fuckin' hips, batting your eyelashes. Don't act like you didn't want my cock in your pretty pussy, fucking you till you wept."

His words made you feel ashamed but in the deepest, darkest part of your heart, they turned you on like nothing else. They fed your libido, which was already wound tightly around his manhood. This man had you wound around his pinky, but you didn't mind. If that was the cost you had to pay to make him yours, you would pay it.

Pushing your legs up, he let go of your hands to caress your swollen bud. You screamed as the new position left you seeing stars, your legs nearly losing sensation, a warmth seeping through your body. Your silky walls grasped him tightly, to the point where you became one, as he shouted his release. Pulling out, he panted as he glanced at the sight in front of him; your overstimulated lips swollen and wet, messy from your intermingling fluids. He cleaned you up with a wet washcloth as you dozed, leaving as quietly as he could.

You woke up after some time, your limbs and pussy sore, you relishing the ache. You didn't see Andy anywhere, but you did see your clothes neatly kept in a pile at the foot of the bed. You were just about to reach for them when your phone dinged with a message alert. Bemused, you checked and saw it was from Andy.

"See you in office, sweetheart. P.S. Wear a skirt. Don't be late."

Part 2

Tags: @donutloverxo @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @gotnofucks @imdarkinme @ozarkthedog @savior-adriana @chrissquares @a-little-counter-esperanto @denisemarieangelina @chris-butt @patzammit @tenaciousperfectionunknown @worksby-d @starlightcrystalline @tinylumpiaa @whosmarisaaarw @jbreenr @melli0112 @harrysthiccthighss @bigchoose @violentyoshi 

[marvelouspeterparker]

mine

pairing: mob!tom holland x reader

requests: wearing Mob!toms stuff? like maybe his suit jacket but without something under it, to a meeting? + mob!tom goes feral after an enemy flirted with his girl? both by anonymous

warnings: violence and smut

notes: hope you don’t mind that i combined two requests! also check out @geminiparkers​ mob!tom playlist which coincidentally has this same gif on the page haha + this might as well be dedicated to @duskholland​ as it is mob monday and she is the queen of mob!tom :)

It wasn’t unusual for you to sit in Tom’s meetings. In fact, he rather enjoyed it. He liked having you as involved as possible, he trusted you with all his heart and he didn’t want to keep you in the dark. He even got you a “throne”, as he called it, to match his in his meeting room. They were two large chairs with intricate and expensive designs on the back rests. As soon as anyone walked into the room, it was clear who was in charge. 

Although you had your own seat, you rarely used it. You appreciated it, of course, and when you sat on it you felt powerful, Tom’s hand over yours, his thumb rubbing your skin softly as he barked orders at his men, intimidating every person in the room. You felt like a queen sitting proudly beside her king.

But, as much as you adored your throne, you and Tom both preferred when you sat in your rightful place, in his lap. He liked to wrap his arms around you and hold you sometimes to destress when his men were acting like fools and everything seemed to be going wrong. 

Sometimes he would even distract himself, slipping his hands under your clothes, one holding you down as the other made a mess between your thighs. He didn’t care if anyone heard you, and you didn’t either––it was hard to worry about anything else when he had his hands on you. 

The men knew not to look at you, only making eye contact with Tom as he spoke, as if nothing were happening. If they did look, they’d be punished. Simple as that. And no one wanted that.

You had just finished eating a snack when you made your way over to the meeting room. You knew that Tom would need your company today, his meeting was with Lorenzo, one of the worst in the business. His actual business was good, and it would be very beneficial to join forces with him, but he was a nightmare. Which is why Tom considered him to be one of his enemies. 

The meeting had started a little while ago, but there hadn’t seemed to be any shouting, so you assumed it was going well. You slipped in quietly and noticed Tom perk up when he saw you, but then his eyes trailed over your body and he licked his lips, partially tuning everyone out as he focused on you. You were wearing one of his shirts with a belt tied around your waist, accentuating your figure. 

He spread his legs and sat back, waiting for you as you walked along the long table, saying hi to Harrison as you walked by him. You bit your lip and smiled as you reached Tom, his hands immediately pulling you in by your waist. You bent down and gave him a kiss and he smacked your ass before grabbing it possessively, making you squeak and giggle softly.

You sat down on his lap, your body turned into him, your arm hanging loosely around his neck, legs over the chair as you faced the front. He leaned in to whisper in your ear, one arm wrapped around your side, the other on your thigh. “You’re not wearing anything under this, are you?” He bit your earlobe and you could tell he wanted to take you right then and there.

You bit your lip as you looked down at him and that was all the answer you needed. “Christ, you’re trying to kill me.” 

You both turned your attention back to the front and you tried not to make a face when you noticed Lorenzo staring at you shamelessly. You took a sharp inhale, knowing this wouldn’t be good––for him. You saw that none of his men were with him, he was so arrogant he often left without backup, stupid, really. 

“Y/N,” Lorenzo spoke up, smiling menacingly at you and you felt Tom’s hold tighten. “How are you, beautiful?”

You tried your best not to roll your eyes but your voice was monotone when you responded. “Fine, thanks.”

You could practically hear Tom’s blood boiling as he growled out his next words. “If we could focus on the task at hand, please.” 

You pressed a kiss to his cheek and felt a little at ease when you noticed his demeanor lighten up a bit. He squeezed your thigh appreciatively. 

Lorenzo leaned back in his chair, annoyingly confident. “Well I’m just saying hello to the pretty girl in your lap.” He licked his teeth, suddenly perking up and you knew this couldn’t possibly be a good thing. “Tell you what. I’ll agree to the terms.”

“Great––” 

“If,” he interrupted, “I get one night with the beautiful lady.” 

You tensed, your eyes widening and just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, he went on. “All I need is one night for you to realize how much better I am than him, sweetheart.” He winked, “Promise I’ll have you screaming my name.” 

Tom made a gesture so fast you barely even saw it, but before you knew it, two of his men grabbed Lorenzo and brought him over to the other end of the table. 

Tom tapped your waist and kissed your cheek and you got the message and slid off his lap. You sat in your chair, your legs curled under you, bracing yourself for what was to come. 

Lorenzo still had an obnoxious smile on his face and Tom wanted nothing more than to punch it off. So he did. His arm swung forward with no warning, knocking the man’s head back momentarily as Tom’s henchmen held him up. He groaned, wincing as blood coated his teeth, his skin already red. There was no doubt his nose was broken, Tom trained almost every day and he knew how to use his hands, in more ways than one. His fists kept pounding into the man, beating him to a pulp. No one disrespected you and got away with it. By the time he was done, the man could barely stand on his own.

Tom lifted his head roughly, gripping his hair. “You don’t even deserve to breathe the same air as her.” He looked at him, pure loathing in his face as he fixed his suit nonchalantly. “Darling?” He held his hand out for you, his eyes softening immediately as they found you. 

You took his hand eagerly and stood next to him. He looked over to the man groaning in pain, his gaze hardening again as he held his head up. “Apologize.”

When he said nothing, Tom raised his fist again and Lorenzo screamed in protest. “Okay okay! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

Tom dropped his head and stood back, watching him indifferently as he weakly rolled his neck back to lift his head on his own.“Do you accept his apology, love?” His tone was sweet when he talked to you and the shocking contrast in how he treated you turned you on more than it should have.

You let go of his hand and stepped forward. You slapped Lorenzo with all the force you had, your hand stinging from the pain, as he grunted, but you sucked it up. “Fuck no.” You stepped back and found yourself in Tom’s embrace.

Harrison handed Tom a handkerchief to wipe his knuckles and he looked at the two men holding Lorenzo up, “Deal’s off. Take him out of here.” He flicked his wrist towards the door and everyone rushed out, the man’s screams and curses becoming muffled as he was shoved out. 

Before the door even shut, Tom threw the handkerchief aside and kissed you, pouring all his frustrations, love and want into it. You sighed and brought your hands up to his hair, loving the way he groaned and pressed himself into you when you pulled at his curls lovingly. 

He brought his hands to your waist and pulled off the belt and ripped the buttons open as you sat on the table. “Look at you,” he cooed.You felt your skin heat up under his gaze as he lifted your legs over his shoulders, kneeling down in front of you. When he looked between your legs, he gasped quietly, “Naughty girl, you’re practically dripping.” He looked up at you as he started mouthing at your thigh. “Seeing me defend your honor got you that hot and bothered?”

You nodded unabashedly. “Love seeing you get violent,” you muttered quietly, “It’s my guilty pleasure.” Your hand found it’s way back into his curls, the other holding you up on the table. 

He grinned, “Then I guess we’re a perfect match, huh?” He licked into your wet cunt, savoring your taste on his tongue, and you sighed. 

“Oh fuck, Tommy.”

“That’s it,” he licked all over your pussy, spreading your wetness and making an even bigger mess as he spit on your clit before sucking it into his mouth, his hands holding your thighs tightly around his head. “Want you to cum all over me. Want you to scream my name, let everyone know you’re mine.”

He buried your face between your legs, moaning as you used him to get off, clearly enjoying himself. He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked hard, letting you squeeze your thighs and grind against him, whines and expletives flying from your mouth freely. It wasn’t long before your head dropped back, a long and breathy “Shit––” falling past your lips as you tensed for a few moments before your body went slack, sinking into the table. 

Tom stood up and grabbed you before you could lie back though, pulling a small whine from you. He got rid of his belt and unbuttoned his pants before pulling his cock out. He was hard, leaking, his tip a prominent red. Seeing you in his clothes, then seeing you slap the shit out of Lorenzo really did something to him. 

He grinned, his lips still shining from your release, and pulled you back into his lap. With shaky legs, you climbed up and slung one leg over him, grabbing his cock and sliding him in slowly. “Oh god––” you gasped, your eyes fluttering shut as you leaned your forehead against his.

His hands slid up your legs all the way to your waist before one hand slid up to the side of your face. He tilted his head up and pressed his lips against your parted ones, practically inviting him to capture them in his own. “Look at me baby, can you do that? Wanna see your pretty eyes while I fuck you.”

You whimpered and clenched around him making him buck into you and hiss. You opened your eyes slowly, the dazed look in them making him twitch inside of you. You turned your head and kissed his palm before leaning in and kissing him again, practically melting into him, your mouths merging together, your bodies pressed as close as possible as he guided your movements with one hand. 

You were grinding into him, too focused on the pleasure to think about the cold room and the fact that you were fully naked and he was still clothed. But you knew if you did think about it, it would only turn you on even more. 

His hand on your waist slid down and grabbed your ass, smacking it occasionally as the other held the back of your neck and pulled you into him. The kiss was messy and wet and filled with tongue and passion, but you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way––you just wanted him.

You pulled away reluctantly to take a breath, panting as you watched each other hungrily. You started bouncing up and down on his cock and both his hands grabbed your ass, slamming you down onto him. “That’s it, princess. Just like that. You know how to take my cock, don’t you?”

Even though the question was rhetorical, only meant to rile you up, you nodded, bouncing faster with purpose, your eyes glued to his, your hands digging into his shoulders as you moved yourself up and down.  

He grabbed you, taking charge and thrusting his hips into you with force and speed, your high the only thing on his mind, his not far in tow.

“Want you to give it to me, darling. Can you do that for me?”

You cursed in response, your eyes shutting as you stopped your movements, leaving Tom to hold you up and buck his hips into you, desperately chasing his own release. You whimpered, your body still sensitive as you stared at him, your jaw dropped open. “Cum for me baby. Please. Wanna––feel you.” 

His gaze darkened and he came not long after, a loud groan escaping him as his thrusts slowed down and eventually stopped. He pulled you down onto his cock, letting you rest on him and you whined, your whole body feeling like a live-wire. 

He ran his hands up and down your back, before sliding down to grab your ass. You arched into his touch and leaned into his chest, purring softly and kissing his neck. When he spoke up you trailed your kiss up to his cheek before pulling back to look at him, your hands on his chest.  

“Next time anyone tries anything like that I’m fucking you in front of them, I don’t care who it is. Then I’m beating them to a bloody pulp.” His grip tightened, “It’ll be the last thing they ever see.” 

Oh there was definitely something wrong with you, because hearing his threat only made you clench around him. But maybe you really were the perfect match for each other, as he said, because as soon as he felt your reaction, he smiled up at you and you knew from the look in his eyes that you wouldn’t be leaving this room any time soon.

[shootthemessenger]

if the heavens ever did speak, she’s the last true mouthpiece [b.d.h.]

billie dean howard x fem!reader

summary: idk this came to me while cooking ramen

disclaimer: strong language, sexual nature, smut

gif belongs to @onlysarah235678

Billie couldn’t keep herself from staring; between the swift way you floated around the room, and the dress that hugged your curves so deliciously. She recognized that dress - she had picked it up in a small shop in New York and made you promise you’d wear something nice underneath it for her.

She couldn’t tell if you remembered where the dress was from and deliberately wore it or if you were only wearing it because you knew how lovely you looked in it.

Either way, it was hard for her to deny that you radiated nothing but confidence and elegance as you made your rounds with the producers and actors and actresses; the cherry-red smile never once leaving the delicate curve of your lips.

And she hated you for it.

Specifically, she hated the way you clung to your girlfriend’s arm like a three-piece suit fitted to mold perfectly around her.

She hated the way you wouldn’t look her in the eyes with a soft bat those mesmerizing eyelashes the way you used to.

She hated that she was forced to watch you pad around with the woman that was taking up the other side of your bed; her side of your bed.

Ironically enough, she even hated that she hated you.

When you finally did meet her eyes - as you were escorted to your seat, which had conveniently been placed across the table from her - you sent nothing more than a soft glance which ended as soon as it had began.

She wondered, briefly, if she was imagining the thickness of the tension in the air and if her psycho-babbling with the producer next to her was enough to mask the fact that she was having trouble concentrating.

It only proved to be more difficult as your thumb reached to swipe a pool of chocolate syrup from your bottom lip.

Once again, your eyes met hers, and she wondered if she had imagined the way your pupils dilated as you sucked the mess from the pad of your thumb.

Her spine twitched as she blinked away her own thoughts, submerging herself back into the conversation she was now struggled to keep a hold of.

She could feel your heel bump against her shin underneath the table, “I’m so sorry,” you apologized, taking your bottom lip between your teeth.

She almost forgot where she was as she basked to the smoothness in your voice, the soft tone dripping from your lips like honey.

Her eyes darted to your, distracted, girlfriend before landing on you again.

Now she was angry for an entirely different reason.

She was angry that the woman in front of her had the audacity to focus on anything other than you when you were all she could think about.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” She mumbled, hoping she could mask that sharpness in her voice as her eyes trailed down to your chest where she proceeded to stare at the curvature of your breasts.

It was getting harder for her to deny the urgency to bend you over the table and take you right there in front of everyone.

But she refrained, mostly because of the intrusiveness of the idea that maybe you weren’t still in love with her the way she was with you. Maybe you were only screwing with her because you knew the sight of you still make her weak in the knees, no matter how many months it had been since you had broken up.

The rattling in her brain was interrupted by your voice, excusing yourself from the table and sauntering towards the restroom. She watched your hips swing, blinking back the images of your naked ass pressed against her shower wall.

If this is how the night was going to be; she was absolutely fucked.

She waited a moment, glancing around the room before she impulsively pushed her way out of her seat and stumbled towards the bathroom.

She carefully swung the door open, examining the room for anyone. The bathroom was empty other than you standing at the sink with your hands under the runnng water.

She leaned against the wall, examining your face through the mirror before finding the courage to speak. “So, you’ve got a new girlfriend.” She spoke sternly.

You met her eyes in the mirror, almost missing the way the lock clicked behind her. “I wouldn’t call her my girlfriend, hell, she’s hardly my friend.” You let out a defeated laugh, turning off the water.

Billie moved closer to you, pressed her hand to your hip and pulling you flush against her. She couldn’t fight the urge to breathe you in, your scent clouding her senses.

You withered underneath her, shuddering at the feeling of her breath against your ear. She was silent for a moment as she looked you over, “Dress looks good on you.” She stated shortly, finally pressing her lips against your shoulder.

You fought a hum, nearly paralyzed under her as you watched her through the mirror. Her lips traveled past the strap of the dress, her teeth pulling it to snap back against your skin. You whimpered at the burning sensation left on your sensitive skin.

You could see Billie’s eyes visibly darken as her hand began dancing down the outside of your thigh, “Almost forgot what you looked like underneath me.” She watched you carefully, trying to pick up on any indication that you wanted her to stop.

But the gentle pressure of your ass pushing against her made her smile. She took the dress in her fist and pulled it up over your thighs. She would have been suprised at the black-colored lingerie underneath if she hadn’t known you better.

Her voice dropped to a whisper, “Did you wear this for her, hmm?” She was toying with you just as you had toyed with her early. And, man, were you paying for it.

Her fingers found the hem of your underwear and traced along the burning skin. Before you could even let out the breath you were holding, her hand dipped under the thin fabric to swipe a soft line between your folds.

You cried out softly, gripping the edge of the counter until the skin of your knuckles turned white. You could hear the sound of her humming just over the blood rushing in your ears. “So wet.” She praised with a smile.

“Stop teasing,” you begged through a ragged breath, watching her face break out into an evil smirk. She met your eyes, glancing down the mirror at the sight of her hand dissapeared underneath your underwear.

“Why should I?” She almost sounded proud of the desperation leaking from your voice.

You grit your teeth as her thumb pressed teasingly against your clit, “Because you’ve already proved that no one is going to fuck me as good as you can. Don’t make me wait any longer to cum than I already have.”

She rewarded you with a soft circular motion against your clit, holding you flush against her with her free hand as you attempted to buck your hips in a chase for the orgasm you so-desperately needed.

The moans that began to fall from your lips were much appreciated by Billie as she pushed her finger inside of you, “Look at you, moaning like a desperate little mess. Such a fucking slut trying to get off on my fingers.”

Her hand traveled up to pull the dress below your chest, taking a nipple between her fingers and rolling gently. “God,” she mumbled in approval, her eyes locked on your closed ones in the mirror.

She could feel your knees buckling underneath you as you held yourself up against the sink and tried your best to ride her fingers to orgasm.

“Look at me,” she demanded, wrapping her hand around your throat. When you made no effort to open your eyes, she continued, “I have half a mind to make you scream my name for everyone to hear how needy this cunt is for me. Don’t make me regret giving you what you want without making you work for it. Look. At. Me.” If there was one thing Billie knew how to do, it was excite you.

Your eyes immediately shot open, water pooling in them and face flushed of all color except the rosy-pink blush on your cheeks. God, she wanted to take a picture of you in the moment; completely at her mercy and open to her with no metaphorical barrier between the two of you.

“Billie, I’m going to cum!” You were nearly shouting as she clamped her hand over your mouth. Her fingers worked effortlessly faster against your clit.

“Then be a good girl and cum for mommy.” She finally gave you her blessing. As if a flood gate had opened up, your orgasm rocked through you. A symphony of cries and moans flooded Billie’s ear, such a sweet sound.

She pinned your hips against the skin as you shuttered until finally your legs began to still. “Thank you,” was all you had the energy to mumble out as you looked up at her once again.

Her face broke out into a maniacal smirk, “Oh sweetheart, don’t think I’m done with you yet. I’m going to fuck to until you forget your own name.”

This is not edited and terrible, oops 😅 but hey atleast I’m writing for the first time in so long... :)

Taglist: @mssallymckenna , @proudnlittle , @coxmicbabygirl , @sapphicpaulsxn , @its-soph-xx , @fand0m-obsess3d-g33k , @paulsonix , @madamevirgo , @saucy-sapphic , @kikaykimkim , @billiedeansbottom

[peachtree-dish]

A Te Che Sei Il Mío Grande Amore

Chapter 3: Senza che tu mi dica niente tutto si fa chiaro

Luglio 01, 1969

Luca’s birthday rolled around faster than anyone expected, the day arriving with clear skies and high temperatures. Luca awoke to his mother’s voice echoing through their home as she prepared breakfast. Stretching, the fifteen-year-old shook his nonna as gently as he could to wake her. She grumbled at his attempts and swatted at his claws.

“Nonna,” he sighed, shrugging with a smile and swimming into the kitchen to greet his parents. During his time in Porto Rosso, Luca enjoyed every moment he could swimming and spending as much time in the water since he couldn’t do as much in Genoa. He, along with Giulia and Signora Mia, had snuck to the shoreline in the early hours of the morning every few weeks or so just so Luca could refresh his scales and get the nutrients he needed. It was especially necessary when the temperature had become too cold and made him lethargic and ill. Luca shook his head softly, sending bubbles rippling above him in search of the surface. Signora Mia had been just as kind as Massimo, and just as headstrong in a lot of ways. He made a silent promise to call her with Giulia to make sure she was doing well, even if he were sure nothing could fell the infamous Mia Berni.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Daniella kissed Luca’s cheek and handed him a plate full of seaweed and fish flank on his way to the table. Returning the sentiment, the youth sat beside his father and informed his parents that grandma had decided to sleep in a little longer.

“Ugh, she does this every time. MA!” Daniella shouted in frustration, only to be startled by her own mother swimming around the corner.

“You’re being dramatic, dear. I only do it when I think it will annoy you.” The elderly sea monster smiled toothily at her disgruntled daughter who muttered, “Which is every day,” and finished setting the table.

“So, how does it feel to be another year older, son?” Lorenzo floated a piece of fish to his mouth and chewed animatedly, his gaze never leaving Luca’s. Luca shrugged in response and picked at the seafood drifting across the coral table.

“Not any different than last year, honestly. I still feel like I’m fourteen, so nothing special.” He slurped the seaweed into his mouth, much to his mother’s chagrin, and instantly missed the taste of pasta.

“Fifteen is a pretty big deal, though, you’re becoming a young man and that means changes and more responsibility.”

“I hardly think now is the time to discuss any of that at the table.” Luca’s grandmother scoffed before he could reply.

“What, it’s just the basics; Longer tail and fins, not to mention attracting the pretty lady gills, eh?” Lorenzo nudged Luca in the side who nearly choked on his food and spluttered white bubbles over the table, his scales flushing darkly.

“Lorenzo!” Danielle cried, her claws slapping the table in mortification.

“What? We were around his age when we met. If I remember correctly, you thought I was quite the catch.” He batted his eyes at her, pursing his lips teasingly.

“I was young and silly; I didn’t know any better.” Try as she might, Daniella couldn’t stop the smile that threatened to break her scowl. She busied herself by shredding the fish flank and wrapping it in seaweed. Undeterred, Lorenzo lifted from his chair and leaned in closer, trying to further fluster his wife.

“Yeah, maybe, but you still accepted my courting pearl after the Spring Swim Festival.” Lorenzo pulled a reluctant Daniella out of her chair and began to lead her around the room in spins and pivots, grinning madly as she shrieked with laughter. Luca watched with a mixture of amusement and confusion, his discomfort fading as he pushed the idea of ‘lady gills’ far from his mind. When he peered at his grandma, she appeared nonplussed and continued munching on her food although a genuine smile lifted her aging scales.

“You were skinnier and more handsome then, of course, she fell for you.” Lorenzo pouted at his mother-in-law and led both he and Daniella back to the table.

“I simply grew into my man body,” He emphasized his point by sticking his gut out even farther and patted it proudly. The table burst into laughter and Luca quickly finished eating after, his stomach nearly as full as his heart.

After he finished, he turned to his mother and asked, “Is it ok if I go visit Alberto and Giulia for the afternoon?”

Daniella conceded with a content nod, “Just don’t forget about our dinner tonight at Massimo’s, we don’t want you kids to be late.” Luca agreed cheerfully and kissed each family member on the cheek before swimming out the entrance.

“Hey!” Luca turned mid swim to see Daniella at the entrance. “I love you.”

“I love you too, ma!” Grinning, Luca took off, the water gliding past him as he made his way to the surface and his friends. As he leaped through the blue waves, he imagined he was like the superhero from the newspaper comics that Giulia and Mia both read. Pointing both fists forwards, Luca broke the surface with a whoop, water streaming behind him like a cape.

When he arrived at the Marcovaldo residence, the only beings there to greet them were Machiavelli and a few of his kits, each of whom wanted his attention and brief affection. Finding some of his spare clothes in the drawers of Alberto and Giulia's shared room, Luca quickly left the house and wandered the streets, eager to find his friends. Judging from the sun, he knew the morning fishing trip had come to an end not too long before which should mean Giulia, and Alberto was out delivering. Walking through the town square, Luca waved to a few of the patrons he recognized, mentally wincing as he remembered his first attempts at greeting Porto Rosso’s patrons. If anyone had been the stupidi, it had been them.

Chuckling as he went up the city’s hill, Luca caught sight of two familiar heads of curls along with two faces he was not expecting. Tensing at the sight of Guido and Ciccio, Luca prepared himself for a fight and made to run the rest of the way before he heard laughter. Guido was laughing at something Alberto had said and lightly touched his shoulder. Somehow, the movement was worse than if he had punched Alberto instead. A dark and ugly feeling reared its head within Luca’s belly, causing his face to burn and his hands to clench. Clenching his teeth, the young sea monster marched up the cobblestone pathways, intent on not showing his discomfort.

“Ciao,” he muttered shortly, arriving beside Alberto, and instantly causing Guido to lift his hand from Alberto’s shoulder. Giulia nodded hello from her seat on the bike as Alberto wrapped an arm around Luca’s shoulder.

“Oh, hey Luca,” Alberto cheered even more so upon seeing Luca. “You remember Guido and Ciccio, vero? I helped their families in the off-season while you were away.” Luca looked at the two teens who stood abashedly in front of him and offered his hand after a moment of hesitation.

“It’s good to see you both again,” Not, he thought as he shook the brunette’s hand. Ciccio spoke up, his round features coloring.

“We realize we never officially apologized to you before you left, si? We’re really sorry about last summer, Luca.”

“Si, Ciccio, and I were very foolish and ignoranti, we hope you can forgive us, and we can start again.” Guido smiled warmly, his gaze sincere. Taking a deep breath, Luca felt his earlier feeling of… whatever it was, fading away. If Alberto and Giulia both felt they could trust these boys again, then he could follow their lead.

“Lo apprezzo. I know being around Ercole wasn’t the easiest either, it’s all water under the bridge now anyway.” He smiled genuinely this time, heartened when the two ex-henchmen immediately relaxed.

“Bah, no lie, I’m so happy to be rid of that jerk,” Guido nodded at Ciccio who nodded and twisted his hands anxiously.

“He ate so much of my family’s bread,” Ciccio whispered horrified, his gaze wide. Giulia shared a weirded-out expression with Alberto who only shook his head.

“I didn’t know your family baked,” Luca interceded, ignoring his friends’ lack of subtlety Snapping back to the present, Ciccio grinned widely showing his perfectly white teeth.

“Oh, si, Pasticcini al sale Marino is the pride and joy of Porto Rosso and my family. Our baked goods bring customers from miles around; you should see the line of people who want to buy my mother’s Sfogliatella.” He leaned in conspiratorially to whisper, “My siblings and I have been helping since we were little, so only we know the recipe.” He puffed his round chest out proudly, only to be poked by both Alberto and Guido.

“Knowing a recipe and following it correctly are two different things, Ciccio. Your batter was not very good the last time you tried to make Bombolini.” Guido teased and Alberto nodded knowingly.

“I still don’t know how you mixed up salt and sugar,” the older sea monster screwed his face in disgust, remembering how the supposedly sweet treats and mistakenly been made with copious amounts of salt. “Seriously, Ciccio, even the ocean’s not as salty as those things were.” Ciccio pouted good-naturedly as the group laughed.

“It’s still not as bad as the time Guido set the auto garage on fire,” the blond argued mildly to which said boy grimaced.

“I thought we agreed to never speak of that again; I thought my papa was going to skin me alive.”

The teens chatted a bit more and Luca began to warm up to the two boys who had hurt him so much the past year. Perhaps, he reasoned, they had been good all along and had simply needed the chance to prove themselves.

Bidding Guido and Ciccio farewell, Luca joined Alberto and Giulia as they made the rounds. Luca asked a question that had been on his mind since arriving in Porto Rosso.

“So, whatever happened to Ercole? I haven’t seen him since we’ve been in town.” Alberto placed the cash from his previous sale into the leather pouch of the cart before answering.

“Honestly, the guy kind of disappeared after the race. I think he was embarrassed enough to keep his head low for a while, but other than that, I’m not sure. Maybe he left?” Giulia thought for a moment, her gaze focused on the road ahead.

“Maybe, I don’t think he went away to university, but he could have. His family is really wealthy, so they could afford it no matter the grades he got.”

Luca kicked a pebble, his thoughts skipping back to that one word: university.

“What’s the point of grades anyway, doesn’t that, like, stress you out more?” Alberto mused.

“It certainly does for me,” Giulia huffed. She bid Buongiorno to a young mother who bought the last of their fish and both Luca and Alberto filled the empty space as they headed back down the hill.

“I think it’s mostly competition, to see who really wants to be an academico or no,” she contemplated. “Sometimes if you have really good grades, the universities will pay you to study in their schools. That happened to mama when she moved to Genoa.” Alberto winced slightly at the mention of Giulia’s mother, the story of her separation from Massimo fresh in his memory.

“I wonder if I was good enough, they’d do that for me?” Luca hummed, his eyes following the drains that spread across each building they passed.

“Well, duh, they’d be stupid not to; you’re better than good enough right now,” Alberto bumped his shoulder with a smile. Luca blushed and tossed his friend a grin.

“Hey, happy birthday by the way. It’s about time you got to my age,” the older boy winked and wrapped his arm around Luca again, causing Luca’s skin to hum with energy.

“Oh, yeah! Are you excited for tonight?” Giulia asked over her shoulder.

“Thanks, you guys, really,” Luca felt warmer with Alberto’s arm around him, and he was sure it had nothing to do with the afternoon sun. He wondered briefly if said boy could feel how hard his heart was pounding. “Should I be excited, I thought we were just having dinner?” Luca asked, brow furrowing in confusion. He twisted around to face Giulia as she pulled into the plaza and made her way towards the small coastal home. Alberto lifted his arm when Luca turned away, causing him to feel its loss.

Giulia glanced at him and grinned excitedly. “Papa saved some fireworks from the Festa Della Repubblica since we were in Genoa, and he wants to set them off for tonight.” Luca gasped and jumped in his seat.

“Santa mozzarella! Are you serious?!” He shared an animated glance with Alberto who smiled as he hopped off the cart.

“Of course! I mentioned to him how much you had enjoyed the fireworks during Vigilia di Capodanno last December. He decided that would be his gift to you this year.” Giulia locked the bike and carried their bag of earnings inside, the two boys following after her.

Inside they found Massimo at his stove, his presence filling up the majority of the room. He turned to greet them as they entered, placing a kiss upon Giulia’s curly head.

“Buon cumpleanno, Luca. May you live to see many more,” Massimo rumbled fondly, patting Luca on his checkered shoulder. Luca returned the sentiment and wrapped a short hug around the large man, his arms too small to wrap fully around him.

“Grazie, Massimo. For your wishes and for your surprise gift,” Luca pulled away while Massimo smiled happily, his eyes disappearing behind his bushy eyebrows.

“Giulia,” Massimo chided lightly, turning to his daughter who was counting out money, “I thought we agreed to keep it a secret until after dinner?” Giulia smiled apologetically.

“Scusa, papa, we were just too excited,” She and Alberto began counting the coins on the table while Massimo ushered Luca over to the stove.

“Come, Luca, you will help me prepare dinner,” Massimo handed him a bag of clams and ordered him to wash them thoroughly in the sink. Luca would be the first to admit he was not a cook, but Massimo was gentle in his orders and easily guided Luca in making a perfect pasta dinner.

Once the Paguro family arrived along with Ciccio and Guido, once again to Luca’s surprise, the night was filled with much laughter and filling food. The linguine pasta alle vongole was instantly a hit and paired nicely with the red wine Ciccio had brought on behalf of his family. To the teens’ disappointment, the adults were adamant that they were still too young for alcohol. At one moment, Lorenzo laughed so hard, he inhaled his pasta and sent part of it into his nose much to the delight of the children. After dinner, the group trouped outside with fireworks and dessert in hand. While Massimo and Lorenzo set up the fireworks near the edge of the waterline, Daniella, Giulia, and Ciccio helped serve gelato and watermelon.

With a happy sigh, Alberto nestled himself into the sand alongside Luca, happily chewing on the red-fleshed fruit. Luca’s eyelids were drooping as his body felt full and warm, accompanied by his own friend’s radiating heat. His gaze lingered as Alberto licked gelato from his lips, the cream dripping from the corner of his mouth. Forcing his eyes to look anywhere else, Luca shifted closer to Alberto. Instead, his gaze landed on his father asking animatedly about the fireworks in Massimo’s hand, the larger man looking both confused and entertained by Lorenzo’s energy.

“I know I already said it, but happy birthday,” Luca dragged his eyes back to the tanned boy next to him and smiled. He jumped slightly at the first explosion, watching in delight as the light of the fireworks made his friend’s skin glisten with multicolored hues.

“Thank you for sharing it with me,” He replied easily. Neither made comment as their arms brushed or as their hands splayed out behind them with barely any space between. Up above the merry group, bright color after bright color bloomed across a starlit sky, the stars twinkling their own delight.

[theglitterypages]

Title: Sweetheart Part 2

Pairings: Armin x fem! reader

Part One

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2000+

••••••

“Fix your postures!” you commanded, your hands are on your back as you walk in front of the Cadets. Levi stood behind you with a smirk on his face, he's been a little gentle with the Cadets these days but now that you're back to kick ass with him this would be so fun.

“Kirstein! Straighten up your back!”

Jean immediately obeyed while Connie was staring at you with wide eyes, this was not how they remembered you few days ago, you were soft spoken then, all sweet and all smiles but now they are seeing the tigress that Levi was talking about.

Levi was even more gentle in handling them because Levi rarely shouts yet his words carries heavy emotions but you, you can do both.

“She's the sister of the commander that's why she has the guts but I bet she's all cry and whine if she faced a Titan.”

You have a good sense of hearing and you heard what the Cadet has said about you, it wasn't the first time that someone underestimated you because of your gender and because you're Erwin's sister, it's one of the stereotypes, you don't actually mind but what you heard next took every single strand of patience inside you.

“Bet she's a good screamer in bed.”

Levi balled his hand into a fist, he may call you brat and have endless argumentd with you but he treats you like a sister and hearing the Cadets say those filthy words to you makes his blood boil but then when he saw how you tilted your head in both sides and how your eyes went blank he already knew that you can handle it yourself, you're not a simple girl after all so he let you do what you want.

Your eyes wandered around the Cadets, you were hurt by those comments, you hated being looked down just because they think you had it easy because of your brother when in fact you almost die a lot of times in the past and those wounds from Titan attacks heals in time but those words that serves as daggers stabbing your heart won't.

After a minute of searching you found the pair that you heard, the two men were standing beside Armin Arlert, it would've been a great view if the assholes weren't standing beside him, Armin Arlert's face screams peace, those blue eyes are calming.

“I bet she's been sleeping with the Captain.”

That was the last straw, Armin immediately threw hard punches towards the two guys who are both taller, and probably a couple of years older than him, he had enough of their dirty mouths, he knew that he's not suppose to do that but he couldn't stand them talking shits about you like that, his knuckles got red because of the impact and when he looked down at the two fellow Cadets, both their nose were broken as they lay flat on the ground.

Levi was shocked to see Armin straight up punch his fellow Cadets but he secretly smiled, he knew that the kid is promising. Everybody just need a little push to unleash their demons, seems like Armin Arlert has been unleashed just now.

Eren and Mikasa immediately went beside Armin to put a hand on his shoulders trying to calm him down silently, the blonde teen was heavily breathing, “I was taught by my grandfather to treat women right, you don't talk dirty shits about them like that, respect a woman the way you respect your Mother.” Armin growled through gritted teeth, he's surprised of the damage that he had done to the two men, those broken and bleeding nose gives him some sort of satisfaction but as he tore his blue eyes away from the two, he met your eyes.

You were frozen on your position, you were planning to do punch them first but Armin's action made you stop, you see the blonde guy as a soft one, the type of person who wouldn't even dare hurt a fly but here he is proving that he knows how to throw a good punch, when your gaze met, the anger on his eyes vanished, his face softened as his cheeks turned bright red including both of his ears.

With a small smile you made your way towards them, Connie, Jean and Sasha were standing behind Armin now too, checking up on him, you've deduced that he's like the baby in the group, suits him, he does look like a baby.

You looked down at the Cadets lying on the floor and grabbed their collars so you could lift them off the ground.

Everybody gasped at your action but no one dared to interfere. “I would love to have you two on our squad next expedition but we're the one leading the whole team which means...we're the first one to encounter titans and if we're unfortunate we'll be the first ones to get eaten too. I'll show you how I cry in front of the Titans then.” you let go both of their collars and let them land butt first on the ground.

You turned to Armin and smiled at him genuinely, “I appreciate your efforts for breaking their nose for me, Cadet. Thank you.” you smiled as you pat his head, Armin looked up at you with a smile, his cheeks flaming red, “It's natural human decency, M-Ma'am. No need to thank me.” you smiled at him and pursed your lips before walking away so you could go back to the center of the scouts.

“Captain Levi would take over now.”

Levi stood beside you and the Scouts saluted at him, “Take care of some written reports for me, brat.” he ordered and you nodded as a response as you walked away from the training grounds but before you could even went further, you heard grunts and gasps behind you.

You saw how the sole of Levi's boots collided with the face of the Cadets, you winced and bit your lower lip as you see how Levi kicked them hard.

“I'll make sure you two would learn how to respect your superiors now and women in general.”

You started to feel bad because you're damn sure their jaws would be dislocated because of Levi's signature kick but you remembered that they're assholes and they deserved it so you proceeded to go on and take care of the written reports instead of watching their ass get beaten.

°°°°

It was already dark when you've decided to take a walk to try and breathe some fresh air, you looked up at the dark sky, the moon was shining brightly.

Your eyes settled on the mysterious moon, you've always been fascinated of the moon, when you were a kid you often cry to tell Erwin that the moon is a creep because it keeps on following you, your brother would always hold back his laughter and would assure you that he'll protect you from the moon.

A part of you wishes that you two should've stayed as kids then, your brother has been seeking to find out the truth and as he gets closer to that truth, you're slowly losing him. You immediately wiped a tear away, you should just be happy for your brother and make sure he'll be safe, that would be enough.

You lifted your arms towards the sky as if reaching the moon, it is beautiful yet awfully frightening but the stars cast out those fears, as the stars shine brightly in the night sky you felt at ease and you smiled to yourself before putting your hands back to your pocket. It's getting colder now.

The cold wind embraced your whole and you shivered strands of your hair escaped from your messy hair bun. When the cold was too much for you to handle, wearing thin clothes is not a wise decision so you've decided to go back inside just to hear a hissing nearby, if you're right the hissing comes from the tree nearby.

Out of curiosity you slowly made your way towards the tree, you just silently prayed that it's not Cadets that are making out outside because you've witness a pair making out behind trees before and you wouldn't want it to happen again.

But as you got closer to the tree you confirmed that it wasn't a couple doing something nasty outside, it is an angel silently sitting down.

“Aren't you suppose to be sleeping by this time now?”

Armin's eyes widened as his head snapped on your direction, his mouth gaped open as while his brows raised in surprise. "I c-can't sleep Ma'am.” he stammered and looked away from you, not that he doesn't want to see you, it's just that the thin material that you're wearing is revealing your cleavage. He had to gulp and remind himself that it's not appropriate to look at women like that.

“Mind if I sit down beside you? I couldn't sleep either.”

“I-I don't really mind.”

When your arms accidentally brushed, Armin wanted to flinch but he didn't because he wouldn't want to offend you and when you looked at him you can still see how red his cheeks were even if it's dark. “Thank you for what you did, earlier. I don't really mind such comments anymore, it wasn't the first time and it probably wouldn't be my last either.” you chuckled bitterly, you've worked hard to be a skilled fighter so you could prove to everyone that you're not a woman living as your brother's shadows.

But sometimes life is fucked up, actually most of the time it is fucked up.

“You should inform Commander Erwin about it. I mean they're crossing the line, they're talking as if they know you.”

“How about you, do you know me?”

“It feels like...I do.” he silently whispered as he looked down on his hands, you followed his gaze and your mout gaped open when you saw that there's a bandage covering his knuckles. “By the walls, Armin...w-what happened? You shouldn't have done it, I could've taken care of them myself.” you grabbed his hand and examined it, not that you can see through those bandages but you just feel like doing so.

Armin could've taken away his hands from you but he didn't, feeling your soft skin against his is comforting, he's forgotten that he shed a tear when Mikasa put those bandages around his knuckles, he didn't break any bone but it's red and sore, he's not really cut out for scenarios like that but it was worth it because he was able to defend you at some way, in the little way that he could.

“It's just sore. I'm not really good at punching, you know. I used to get beaten up as a kid, they'll steal my food and Eren and Mikasa would come to rescue me but now, I finally...I finally get to do something for someone.”

“Why didn't you fight back before?”

“Because I can't and I'm not as brave. You know, when I came face to face with a Titan, I—I was frozen. Eren got eaten and it was fortunate that he's alive.”

You didn't notice that you stared caressing his knuckles as you listened but it seems ljke he doesn't notice too so you let it be, “But look at you now, I've heard from Erwin that you're a smart one. You've figured out who is the female titan right?” Armin looked at you and his blue eyes widened in shock as he saw how close you two were.

He knew that in one wrong move he can finally know how would it feel to have your lips press against his, if he'll move his head forward maybe he can feel how soft those lips are.

But he stayed back, he respects you. He's attracted to you but he knows his boundaries, his grandfather told him to grow up as a gentleman and all that and he thinks of Mikasa, if Mikasa would be treated so inappropriate by a man he wouldn't like that, he wouldn't like that to happen to his sister.

That's why he would behave himself around you and he'll choose to be contented of just staring at you, it's more than enough.

“W-Well it was a gamble and I was already late...it was—”

You kissed his cheek to shut him up. The poor guy looked at you as his whole face reddened, both his ears flaming up.

“W-Why d-did you do that?” he whispered as he looked away.

“I just want to. Can you promise me one thing?” you asked as you leaned away, Armin looked at you with curiosity before he opened his mouth to respond, “It depends, make me promise something that I can fulfill.” he told you. When he promised someone, he'll always make sure that he can fulfill because he hates it when promises are broken and he wouldn't want to break any promise to anyone, especially to you.

“Each one of us has our own expertise, I want you to focus on yours and if you find yourself in a fucked up situation, don't hesitate to go to me, call out my name or somethin', I have your back now, Armin.”

“Then call out my name too if you need me.” Armin told you bravely, he doesn't have any idea why he felt this way but the moment he saw you after bumping into you, he already know that he's attracted, he told Eren about it, Eren teased him and he's not amused, not that he hates it but he's afraid that you'll hear.

He often watch you from afar, most of the times you are found with the Captain, probably why some thinks the two of you are in a relationship but as you sat beside him under the moonlight, his heart was filled of hope.

“Good night then, sweetheart.” you whispered as you gently press your lips on his cheeks again, as usual, he was frozen and you stood up to walk away so you could go back inside already.

Armin followed you with his gaze as a sweet smile made its way across his lips, his eyes sparking with glee.

“Good night, sweetheart.” he whispered.

[ilovefandoms102]

Taking Chances-Part 3*

Pairing: College!Drew Starkey x Plus Size!Reader

Summary: The basketball star seeks help from the girl he’s been crushing on for two years…will she reciprocate his feelings?

Note: I am so in love with this man it’s not even funny...🥺 

I have missed writing this series and now I have so many ideas so I’m so excited to have this for you guys! I hope everyone enjoys!

The parts in italics are flashbacks! 

Click here to be apart of my taglist

Part 2 Part 4

=====================================

After that night, Drew and I spent every waking moment together…

I couldn’t get enough of him, he was so incredibly sweet to me, and the biggest teddy bear. He will never admit this, but he loves being the little spoon. The past two months we have been dating have honestly been the best days of my life. 

However, people seemed to have a staring problem when we were together on campus. Drew paid no mind to it, his eyes either on me or talking to one of his teammates. They constantly teased Drew about how he hasn’t shut up about me since he first saw me our freshman year, and it seemed to have become worse now that we were together. I thought it was adorable, but Drew’s cheeks always turned a deep shade of pink anytime it was brought up. 

“Baby it’s cute,” I told him one day as we sat in class after we had escaped another round of his teammates teasing him. 

“It makes me sound like a creep,” he protested, arm slung behind my chair that he had scooted as close to him as possible. 

“No it doesn’t, it’s sweet.” I pouted, reaching out to rub his cheek. 

He leaned his elbow on the table, head resting in his large hand. His eyes swept over me, causing my thoughts to become self conscious as I squirmed in my seat. I looked everywhere but at him, turning back to face the front of the class. I saw him in my peripheral leaning towards my ear. 

“You look so beautiful today.” He whispered, kissing my cheek. I flushed as I looked down at myself, wearing one of his sweatshirts and a pair of leggings with my hair down in its natural state, and minimal makeup with my glasses perched on my nose. 

“Drew...I literally look like a trash can.” I chuckled, glancing at his almost hurt expression. 

“Stop that, you’re hot as fuck.” He smirked, pinching my thigh playfully. 

I giggled as I pushed his hand away, instead he intertwined our fingers and kept them on top of my thigh. Drew glanced to see if the professor was paying attention before quickly placing a kiss to my lips, taking me by surprise. I blinked in shock, looking over to my giant boyfriend. 

“What was that for?” I asked, still shocked. 

“Just ‘cause I wanted to kiss my beautiful girlfriend.” He shrugged, winking before turning back to listen to the professor. 

=====================================

Drew lived in the dorms on campus, meaning no privacy if we ever wanted to hang out. This made me very appreciative to my parents that helped me find the apartment I have to myself. In the last few months, Drew had practically moved himself in. 

Of course I didn’t mind at all...he was good eye candy. Besides that, he actually helped around my apartment which I found odd since no guy I know would voluntarily do the dishes or run the vacuum. It honestly made me fall even harder for the basketball super star. 

“Hey baby, holy shit it smells amazing in here.” Drew called, walking in my apartment from practice. 

I was occupied in the kitchen, whipping up some dinner for the both of us. Drew sat his duffel bag by the washer, no doubt more clothes in it that he needed washed. The washer and dryer on campus was outrageously expensive, and since I have a washer and dryer I just told Drew to bring his clothes here. Drew walked up behind me, wrapping his very sweaty body around mine. 

“Drew go take a shower, you’re ruining the aesthetic.” I huffed, trying to push his arms from around me, but he was too strong. 

“Well excuse me, I have not seen my girlfriend all day and I would like to love on her.” Drew said matter of factly. 

“You see her everyday,” I giggled, they intensified when Drew started placing ticklish kisses on my neck. 

“I know, but I didn’t see her today.” He pouted, his large frame completely engulfing mine. 

“Well you smell like shit, so off to the shower with you.” I ordered, shooing his hands away that seemed to have traveled back to my ass. 

“Fine, fine you win this time.” Drew sighed, laying a smack to my behind before disappearing down the hall. 

=====================================

Drew came back a few minutes later, fresh out of the shower in just a pair of basketball shorts hung low on his hips. It took everything in me to not jump him right then and there, and he knew it too by the look he gave me. 

“See something you like princess?” He asked smugly, flexing his muscles on purpose. 

“No,” I quipped, turning back to turn the stove burners off since dinner was done. 

Drew snatched my hand, yanking me to his chest. I gasped, placing my hands on his abdomen to keep me from falling. He circled his arms around me, one hand staying on my waist while the other tangled into my hair. I moaned softly when he tugged on the strands a little, his smile bright at my reaction. 

“I think you saw something you liked sweetheart,” Drew smirked, eyes falling to my lips that were slightly parted. 

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t.” I teased, the hands I had placed on his abs beginning to wander. His fist tugged my hair harder, my teeth biting down on my bottom lip to stop the squeal I was about to let out. 

“Such a brat,” he growled, his blue eyes darkening. 

“You love it though, don’t you baby?” I grinned, tracing my fingertips along the waistband of his shorts. 

“Fuck yeah I do,” he said as he leaned down to smash his lips to mine. 

I finally let out the moan I was holding in, my hands moving to thread them through his damp hair. I let my tongue out to play with his, both of us fighting for dominance over the other. He ultimately won, but not willingly on my part. Drew’s big hands gripped my ass cheeks in a death grip, a slight grunt passing his lips as he used his hold to pull me in closer. 

“Th-The foods gonna get cold,” I panted as I pulled away, chest heaving. 

“I want to kiss you,” Drew stated, leaning back down for another kiss. 

“But-baby-Drew-“ I tried, but was interrupted as Drew kept kissing me. 

“Eat later, kiss now.” he mumbled against my lips, my smile growing as I gave in to his request.

=====================================

“So there’s a frat party this weekend, and I was really hoping you would be my date.” Drew spoke as we cleaned up the kitchen. 

“Sure, I’ve never been to a frat party,” I shrugged, handing him another dish to dry. 

“You’re not missin’ much trust me.” He chuckled. 

“Then why do you want to go?” I asked, genuinely curious. 

“Because now I have a beautiful woman to show off.” He winked, making my cheeks flush. 

“You think you’re smooth Starkey,” I laughed. 

“Oh I know I’m smooth baby, that’s how I landed such an amazing girlfriend.” Drew smiled, leaning down to kiss my red cheek. 

“Yeah sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.” I dismissed, rolling my eyes playfully. 

“You help me sleep at night gorgeous.” he smirked, leaning down to kiss my cheek. I shoved his head away with my wet hand, giggling as he looked at me like I had ruined his favorite jersey. 

“What are you gonna do about it Starkey?” I taunted, beaming as Drew picked up some of the water and splashed me.

“That’s what smartass,” he countered, laughing as I gasped when the water hit me. 

“Oh it’s on,” I grinned evilly, throwing more water at him. 

Drew and I continued our little splash fight until my kitchen was covered in soapy water, Drew holding on to me so I didn’t fall but also so he had the advantage to get my hair and clothes soaked. I tried to get away, shoving at his chest, but to no avail he kept me in his arms. 

“Drew stop!” I squealed, his laughter making my heart flutter.

“You asked for it!” he shouted, squeezing a rag over my head.

“You better clean up this mess mister!” I yelled, giggling as he picked up a few more soap bubbles to put on my face.

“Now this, this is sexy.” Drew chuckled, my eyes rolling as I hit his chest playfully.

“Stooooop, now I need to go shower.” I giggled, leaning my head back to look at him.

“I should join you, ya know to make sure u get all the soap out.” He grinned slyly, hands traveling over my form. 

“In your dreams Starkey,” I whispered, kissing the corner of his lips before heading to the shower.

“Brat,” he growled, his eyes glued to me as I walked away. 

=====================================

The one thing I loved the most about Drew is-

Wait...did I just-did I just think love?

Wow...I couldn’t tell you the last time I had that kind of thought…

Anywho, Drew wasn’t one of those guys that pressured sex. The past few boyfriends I had always made me feel like I just had to give in, like it was my duty as a woman to please them. 

Sure Drew and I loved to tease each other, but he made it very clear that we were on my terms when it came to anything sexual. I’d be lying if I said that didn’t make my heart flutter. I truly, truly felt like Drew and I could last, or at least I hoped to. 

“I want you to feel completely safe with me, no rushing or jumping into anything you’re not ready for.” He explained, snuggled up against me in my tiny, queen size bed. 

“I do feel safe with you teddy bear,” I grinned, his eye roll at the nickname making me laugh. 

“I mean in the sense of talking about anything and everything, no lies, and no secrets.” He continued, gently brushing his finger along my features. 

“I can do that,” I agreed, running my fingers through his hair. 

“You-You don’t feel pressured to do anything just because I insinuate it right?” He questioned, a frown forming on his beautiful face. 

“No baby I don’t, I know you’re just teasing, and I like it. If I didn’t, I would tell you.” I reassured, kissing his nose to which he smiled at. 

“I’m in for the long run sweetheart, you ready for that?” He smirked, his arms going around my back to pull me impossibly closer. 

“I am,” I said nervously, feeling a lump in my throat. 

“Good, because I don’t plan on going anywhere and I won’t let you push me away.” He revealed, my heart thumping a million miles a minute. 

“Drew,” I whispered, feeling my whole body flood with emotion. 

“I feel different with you y/n, like everything feels so real. I-I’ve never felt the way I feel when I’m with you.” Drew confessed, my eyes filling with happy tears that I forced back down. 

“I feel that way too teddy bear,” I smiled, slowly caressing his cheek. 

Drew leaned forward slowly, kissing my lips gently. I threaded my fingers in his hair, smiling into his kiss. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled into my lips. I pulled back a little, looking at him confused. 

“For what?” I asked. 

“Taking a chance on me,” he smiled, kissing me again. 

I deepened our kiss, feeling my body ignite with fire and passion. Drew’s hands stayed firm, one underneath me threaded into my damp hair, and the other on my hip. His fingers felt the curve and dip, squeezing lightly which made my heart flutter. 

I had one hand holding his cheek, the other making its way from his hip bone and slowly creeping it under the wife beater he was wearing. I felt the ripple of muscles on his abdomen, tracing under his pecs. Then I felt my way to his back, smoothing my hands up and down as our kiss intensified. 

Drew abruptly sat up, yanking the fabric over his head then tossed it on the floor. My chest was heaving from lack of air, his doing the same. I grabbed his shoulders, pulling him to hover over me as I laid on my back. 

“Drew?” I panted, pulling away to look into his eyes. 

“Yeah? Am I going too fast?” He asked, his eyes filling with concern. 

“No, I just wanted to tell you that-that I want you to touch me-like...everywhere.” I stammered, my cheeks heating up slightly. 

I didn’t wait for his response however, reaching for the back of his neck to bring his lips back to mine. Drew moaned softly, sending shivers down my spine. It was the sexiest sound I ever heard, and I wanted more. 

His hands explored more of my body, taking both my breasts in his large hands. I wasn’t wearing a bra since we were originally planning to go to bed, so he was pleasantly surprised to not feel the cups of the bra. 

Drew grazed his thumbs over my nipples, a gasp flying from my lips as the exquisite feeling went straight down below. He moved his kisses down my neck, softly stroking my nipples that pebbled through my shirt. I let out a moan of my own when he gently sucked on a spot behind my ear, leaving his mark on my untarnished skin. 

“More,” I whimpered, moving one leg between his so I could grind my lower half on his thigh. 

“Ask nicely,” Drew murmured in my ear, and I could feel his smirk against my skin. 

“Let me have it,” I demanded, but my brattiness only got me a low growl from Drew. 

His hands came to my hips to stop my movements, a child like whine leaving my throat. I tried to fight his grip which only made his hands hold me tighter. 

“Brats don’t get what they want babygirl, you know this.” He reprimanded, laughing maliciously as I struggled to free myself. 

“Please,” I muttered, giving in. 

“What was that?” He teased, a frustrated groan escaping as I tugged at his hair. 

“Please Drew, please I need more.” I said a bit louder, a satisfied hum from Drew as he helped guide my hips to grind against him. 

I could feel his hardened member against my thigh, Drew’s low grunts in my ear making me even more hot as he was getting off just as I was. We both rutted up against each other, moans and whimpers from us filling the room. 

“Fuck this is so hot,” Drew moaned, making my head nod in agreement. His blue eyes almost black from lust, pupils blown wide as they stared into mine. 

“Feels so good baby,” I replied, my eyes closing as I could feel my release coming. 

“I’m gonna cum, fuck.” Drew growled, grinding both of our hips faster. 

“Me too,oh my god.” I gasped, my clit throbbing against his thigh. 

My back arched as my orgasm crashed down, stars flooding my vision. My nails dug into his shoulders, his head falling in my neck as his hips stuttered and his movement halted all together. I could feel the wet patch against my leg, making me smile slightly as I gasped for air. 

We laid there for a minute, not moving from our position other than Drew dropped to lay on top of me. I combed my hands through his now sweaty hair, his lips placing gentle kisses on my neck where his head was currently buried. 

“I need to change my pants,” Drew blurted, a giggle bursting from my lips. 

“I need new shorts,” I smirked, shuffling a little on the bed. 

“Can I tell you something?” Drew questioned, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. 

“Of course you can babe,” I chuckled, gently caressing his cheeks. 

“I’ve been dying to know what you taste like,” he blurted, my eyes widening and teeth sinking into my bottom lip. 

“Maybe you could have a sample,” I said barely above a whisper. 

“Can I?” He asked, fingers dragging down my stomach. 

I nodded, keeping eye contact as his hand dipped in my shorts. He scooped up my cum, being careful to not touch any sensitive areas. I stared downwards as his hand ascended to his mouth, sticking his two fingers he used inside. His eyes closed as he sucked his fingers clean, letting out a spine chilling moan that made me want to strip and let him have his way with me.

“How was it?” I smirked, eyes still connected with his mouth. 

He took his fingers from his mouth, wiping them on my shirt. I could see his tongue moving around in his mouth as if he was trying to savor every last drop. His eyes met mine, a sly smile forming as his lips came closer and closer to mine. 

“Delicious,” he murmured against my lips, and I leaned the rest of the way to connect them. 

=====================================

I met Drew at the frat house on Saturday, it was a pool party so I was a bit hesitant to be around everyone in a bikini. Drew was very convincing and talked me into just wearing it under my clothes so that if I didn’t want to I didn’t have to. I chose a higher cut bikini to show off his favorite body part of mine with a more plunging neckline. I wore one of his basketball shirts with his name on the back tucked into some distressed jeans with flip flops. 

“Hey baby!” Drew greeted, already in his swim shorts which hung low just enough to make every girl here wonder what’s underneath. 

I smiled wide as I came closer, his adorable grin making my heart soar. I was surprised though when he reached me and bent his knees with his hands on my hips to pick me up. I squeaked a little, not expecting it, but I liked it. I wrapped my legs tightly around him, holding onto his shoulders. I was even more surprised when he leaned in and kissed me in front of everyone. 

“That was some greeting Starkey,” I giggled as I pulled away, wiping some of the lip gloss that had smeared off his lip. His big hands squeezed my ass cheeks, another round of giggles erupting. 

“I like the ass L/n,” he commented, winking as he kept his hold on them. 

“I like the muscles baby,” I said as I felt his broad shoulders and chest. 

“You look so beautiful,” he murmured, tightening his hold on my ass. 

“You’re too sweet teddy bear,” I gushed, pinching his cheeks. 

“Damn bro, how your arms not broken?” One of the frat brothers asked, my heart stopping as I looked from him to Drew whose expression morphed into one of anger. 

“Drew,” I warned, but he ignored me and sat me back on my feet. 

“What the fuck did you just say?” Drew questioned, shoving me behind him. I grabbed his hand and used my other to grab his bicep, not wanting a fight to break out. 

“I’m just sayin’ man she thick and all but damn.” The boy scoffed, looking me up and down behind Drew. 

“Insult my girlfriend again, I fucking dare you.” Drew taunted angrily, taking a step closer. I pulled on his arm, hoping to get his attention back to me. 

“Drew it’s ok, he was just dropped on his head as a child and doesn’t appreciate what a real woman looks like.” I sassed, raising a brow at the boy. 

I didn’t give him a chance to reply however, pulling Drew towards one of the pool chairs. I stripped my clothes in front of him, his eyes widening at the sight of my bikini. I smirked as his eyes traveled up and down my body, lingering on the curves of my hips. I turned around to purposefully give him a view of the back, my heart jumping at the curse that left his lips.

“What?” I asked, grinning when his eyes snapped back to mine.

“You’re...you’re stunning, absolutely gorgeous.” he breathed, his hands coming to wind around me and pull me to his chest. 

“I figured you’d like it,” I shrugged, his head shaking as he smiled down at me.

“Let’s get in,” he chuckled, intertwining our fingers and pulling me with him to the pool.

=====================================

The frat brother that felt the need to make that comment earlier kept eyeing Drew and I, making him tense up against me. I moved to stand in front of him, wrapping my arms around him.

“You should have let me deck that guy,” Drew grunted, his hands going to my hips to pull me closer.

“He’s not worth it Drew,” I sighed, placing my hands on his cheeks and gently pull so his eyes would come back to mine.

“I don’t like it, he had no right.” Drew huffed, scrunching his eyebrows. 

“Let’s not think about it ok? I want to have fun with you.” I smiled softly, getting up on my toes to kiss him. Drew flashed a small grin, holding me closer to him. 

A little while later, the frat guy was completely forgotten. Drew and I were completely wrapped up in each other. We couldn’t keep our hands to ourselves which earned lots of stares from the other girls trying hard to get him to look their way. 

Drew pulled me to a corner of the deep end of the pool, Drew being so tall his shoulders were still above the water. He wrapped my legs around his waist, but his fingers stayed wandering on my private area of my bikini. I gasped in surprise, looking around to see if anyone would notice.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish Starkey,” I grumbled, gripping his biceps. 

“I’m not doing anything babydoll,” Drew said innocently, but with a shit eating grin on his face.

“Drew,” I whispered, his fingers moving my bikini bottoms to the side.

I stared deep into his eyes, blinking rapidly as his fingers slowly caressed me. I bit down on my bottom lip, trying hard to conceal my moans. 

“So pretty,” he murmured, leaning to place a gentle kiss to my lips.

The moment was ruined however when some of Drew’s teammates yelled for him.

“Hey yo Starkey! Wanna shoot some hoops?” they called, Drew turning to look at them before back to me. 

“Go on, I’ll be here.” I said, already missing the feel of his fingers as he moved my bottoms back.

“I won’t play for long ok?” he smiled, giving me a gentle kiss before heading out of the pool.

=====================================

I couldn’t help but stare the way Drew moved as he played, his coordination so flawless. He was going places, that I was sure of. Other girls of course walked by him, making sure they were in his line of sight with their tiny bikinis that barely left anything to the imagination, but Drew didn’t spare them one glance. 

As soon as he was done, he came to the edge of the pool and jumped back in. I turned my face away giggling, beaming as he resurfaced so his face was right in front of mine. I returned to my earlier position with my legs wrapped around him, a mischievous act forming in my brain. I trailed my fingers down his abdomen and lower, tracing the band of his swim shorts. I bravely grabbed his halfway hardened dick, feeling it pulsate in my hand.

“Baby,” he growled, his hands gripping my hips tight. 

“Hmmm?” I questioned, batting my lashes at him.

“Quit,” he griped, but made no move to stop me.

“I think you like it though sweetheart,” I winked, palming him a bit harder.

“I don’t want to get out of this pool hard as a rock.” Drew groaned, throwing his head back before coming back to meet my eyes. Our moment was yet ruined again by some of the cheerleaders.

“Hey Drew come dance with us!” they giggled, he went to respond until I squeezed him dick harder.

“Sorry ladies, he’s taken.” I fake smiled, waving my free hand at them. They glared at me before scurrying off, my attention turning back to Drew. 

“So possessive,” Drew teased, his hands moving to squeeze my ass.

“You love it,” I giggled, taking my hand away from his member to wrap them around his neck.

“It’s sexy as fuck,” Drew nodded excitedly, leaning down to plant a sweet kiss to my lips.

After a moment of us just staying like that, the party started to die down.

“You ready to get out of here babe?” Drew asked, my head nodding as I was eager to have him all to myself.

“Let’s go home,” I murmured, squealing moments after as he carried me out of the pool and to the pool chair where our stuff was sitting.

This giant man of mine just may be the key to mending my broken pieces...

=====================================

Taglist: @outerbongs​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @artfork​ @ifilwtmfc​ @bolaurel​ @themaddies-obx​ @noneofmybusiness-cl @ilovejjmaybank​ @gviosca​ @runway-to-my-aid​ @nina1800​ @lemur46​ @lynlovesouterbanks​ @heresalltheshit​ @mxltifandoms06​ @bibliophilewednesday​ @deionswannabegirl​ @x-lulu​ @poguestyleskye​ @starrystarkey93​ @evaporatedrosepetals​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch​ @simpingforrudypankowonly​ @holy-spn​ @dpaccione​ @obx-direction-sos​ @haley-talks-too-much​ @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless​ @cheshirecat107​ @iamaunicorn4704

[blahkugo]

Biggest Fan

DABI x HAWKS x READER

Music! AU inspired by THIS photo set...or, the one in which Dabi, Hawks, & Endeavor are a famous rap group, and the reader gets VIP treatment. 

NSFW begins after the ~~~ for those of you who don’t care for plot! 

Warnings: 18+!, SMUT, cursing, threesome, rough sex (? not sure what your definitions of the word are but they do be slapping you around…), just pure filth basically 

You’ve been squealing into the phone for the past ten minutes. Honestly, you can’t believe the words coming from your best friend’s mouth, even after asking her to repeat them a fourth time. 

“Babe, even if you weren’t my agent, I would have found a way to get you in,” Rumi scoffs into the speaker, unphased by your relentless questioning. Though she’s always been a bit impatient when it comes to your antics, she knows how big of a deal this is to you. “How could I not? You talk my ear off about them.”

“I owe you for the next thirty years!” Your screech turns the heads of a few other customers, and you can feel the irritation radiating off the glare of one particularly peeved woman seated near you. But who cares? You’re too excited for a few middle-aged drags to dampen your mood. 

“Remember what you just said the next time I try to skip out on an interview,” her laugh echoes loudly; she must be at the studio.

“Yes! Whatever you want, Twinkle Toes. It’s yours!” She begins to grumble at the use of the old nickname,

“How many times have I told you not to-” You catch the scowling woman turning towards you.

“Got-to-go-text-me-the-details, love you!” The parting phrase comes out a hurried ramble. Unbothered as you are by a few stares, direct confrontation definitely isn’t worth the trouble. You’re out of the bistro and in your car before anyone can open their mouth. 

The cup of iced coffee you press to your flushed face does nothing to curb the elation threatening to bubble over from inside you. Rumi really has outdone herself this time. Being that she’s both a long-time best friend and client of yours, you know just how hard she’s been working to book a job of this caliber. Images of the two of you icing sore feet after hours of grueling practices spring to mind, making your bad ankle throb. If you could tell your younger selves who they are now— an internationally acclaimed dancer and a talent manager with a novel’s worth of influential clients— they wouldn’t believe it. And the work was paying off in more ways than one. Soon, Rumi will be making her music video debut...and you’ll actually be in the presence of your favorite artists, Suns of Icarus. 

The rap trio’s been all you can talk about forever. No, like really, forever. Even back at arts school, Rumi had to talk you out of choreographing dances to their music practically once a week. You can still hear her promising you that your 70 year-old ballet instructor did not, in fact, want to see you pirouette to a song that's chorus consists of Hawks saying the word “pussy” over and over again. Usually the memory would drown you in embarrassment (especially considering the story is Rumi’s favorite icebreaker), but now even that can’t hamper your mood. You sigh cheerily, pulling into your reserved parking space. Tomorrow, you’ll be surrounded by your idols.

-

“Are you sure I look okay?” You ask for the third time in an hour, tugging at the hem of your silk tank. Though you’re wearing your favorite suit, you can’t help but feel out of place in the large dressing trailer. After all, it’s  not every day that you accompany your clients on their gigs. Your job is getting them the gigs, and usually you prefer it that way.

“(Y/N), quit stressing! If you looked any hotter the guys would have a heart attack,” your best friend bellows loudly. “Doesn’t she look smokin’?” She questions the hairdresser who, apart from a nod and reassuring smile, you can’t quite understand over the sound of the blow dryer. “Who’s the bad bitch that got me this job in the first place? Oh right, that was you,” she pumps a manicured finger towards you to echo the claim, “so woman up!” 

She doesn’t put her finger down until she sees your face soften. It’s not like she’s wrong. “Professional smooth-talker” is basically your job description. In Hollywood people are afraid of you, the woman who can make or break a career. Who are you to let a couple of talents get you riled up? You allow your body to relax in your seat. Even if those talents are the group of boys that you’ve been crushing on since you were 16. Recalling that fact has you scrambling out of the trailer, face beet-red yet again.

“I’m going to grab something from the coffee cart. Be right back!” The door shuts behind you with a loud thud. Rumi should be spending this time going over the routine, not talking you down from the ledge you’re attempting to throw yourself off of over a few stupid guys. Besides, you’ll probably receive a polite greeting at best. The world’s favorite musicians have more important things to do than indulge your fantasies. 

Having iced coffee and a bagel in your hands is all you need to feel the tension in your shoulders dissipate and your smile return; truly a working woman’s comfort meal. The spring in your step is restored as you walk back to the trailer, too entranced by the savory goodness to properly hear the voice that hollers from your right. You do, however, hear the scolding that follows the catcall,

“How many times have I told you not to hit on people that work for us, birdbrain.” Your entire body swings towards the familiar nickname and a piece of bagel nearly falls from your mouth. Not even a few feet away, Dabi holds your favorite vocalist in a one-handed headlock, attempting to ruffle the blonde’s hair while keeping a cigarette balanced between his own fingertips. 

“Not the hair, man! The stylist’s already had to touch it up twice today!” Hawks’ shrieks are muffled beneath the bicep of his counterpart. 

“Go apologize,” The lanky man shoves Hawks towards the spot your feet are now cemented to. Though he’s reprimanding him, you swear you detect a hint of amusement in his tattooed face. “I’m sorry about him, sweetheart,” he calls, lips contorting into a smirk that should be illegal. You feel your thighs press together on their own; the situation isn’t made any better by the pretty boy walking towards you, hands threading through his golden locks in an effort to fix the havoc Dabi wrought. 

“My bad,” he flashes you an award-winning set of teeth you’ve previously only had the pleasure of viewing through your laptop screen; somehow they’re even pearlier in person. The glimmer of a tiny gem catches your eye and you notice one is sealed to his canine, only dazzling you further. “I meant what I said though, you’re gorgeous,” his hand moves from his own hair to twist a piece of yours between his fingertips. The lack of boundaries leaves you feeling stupefied, but he doesn’t let up, going as far as wrapping the lock around his polished index finger. God, even his hands are pretty...What if they were trailing the inside of your thigh and—  Your mind shouts at you to behave, a fruitless undertaking when the object of your adolescent desires is touching you ever-so softly. 

“Um- I- Thank you?” The stuttered phrase comes out confused. Where the hell is the professional smooth-talker side of you when you need her? “I’m Rumi’s agent and uh- I-I’m a big fan!” Heat blazes through your face and chest; you’d slap yourself for the outburst if they weren’t here. 

“Oh, really? She told us all about you!” He waves a hand towards Dabi. “Oi! Matches! She’s not an assistant, she’s Rumi’s manager!” The gloomier man extinguishes his cigarette before making his way towards the two of you, smug expression wavering only when he glances at Hawks. A short wheeze leaves the blonde when his chest is smacked lightly by his partner. 

“I told you not to call me that.” Dabi turns his attention towards you. “(Y/N), right?” He sticks a hand out to shake and you quite literally drop the remains of the bagel to reciprocate the motion, a move that makes you redden and him snicker. “Rumi told us you’re our biggest fan,” his sly grin tells you your loud-mouthed best friend had probably spilled too much information their way. Oh, she’s definitely going to get an earful later. 

He doesn’t drop eye contact the entire time he’s speaking to you, and you find yourself enchanted by the deep sea-blue of his irises. You would literally swim in those pools if given the chance. Only when Hawks clears his throat do you realize you’re still shaking his friend’s inked hand. After dropping it rapidly, you urge yourself into composure out of pure distress. 

“Sorry, I’m honestly a bit starstruck. I’m sure Rumi told you how much I love your music,” you finally sound a bit like your usual self. 

“She didn’t really mention our music, did she Matches?” Hawks chirps, dodging Dabi’s fist this time.

“No, I don’t think she did, dipshit,” he spits the insult through gritted teeth as a final warning. “But I do remember her telling us something about being your first two crushes...or was it your ‘sexual awakening’? I can’t really remember the term she used…” Your knees almost buckle at the obvious teasing, and you silently swear to murder Rumi when she’s done shooting this video. It’s evident that the mockery is highly amusing to them— the glints in their eyes border on ravenous. 

Because you’re not typically someone whose presence is taken lightly, the thought of being toyed with by a few arrogant men has your blood boiling. You’ve already dealt with too many pretentious assholes who don’t believe women, especially younger ones, belong in management; you didn’t claw your way to the top of the industry for all of that hardship to go to waste. Ever the more perceptive of the duo, Dabi seems to realize the shift in your mood. 

“Relax,” he reaches a hand towards you before thinking better of it, choosing instead to tug at the thin, silver piercing adorning his bottom lip. “We’re only teasing. She didn’t say anything like that, obviously.” You stare at him incredulously, arms crossing your chest. “Why don’t we give you a tour?” Though he’s the one who makes the offer, it sounds as though he’d rather be doing anything else. 

“We’re not really assholes, promise,” Hawks jumps in, crossing his fingers over his heart in a show of good faith. “This one just gets too big headed around beautiful women,” he points at the heavily-inked man, who simply rolls his eyes at the accusation. You’d thought the blonde was…well, nothing more than the stereotype his hair color implied, but he’s sharper than he seems. It appears that unlike Dabi, who comes off curt and ungenuine, Hawks’ wit stems from his charm. 

You can’t help but think of how the two of them compliment each other beautifully. That’s probably why their entire fanbase thinks they should be dating. With that ludicrous thought, your exuberance returns. After Hawks assures you they don’t have to be on set any time soon, you find yourself taking them up on their offer. They seem to be a handful, sure, but how long have you dreamt of spending uninterrupted time with your favorite members of the group? Besides, it’s only a tour. What could go wrong?

-

It’s apparent only five minutes into your time together that Hawks (despite his insistence you call him Kiego, it’s difficult after years of referring to him by the stage name) does not know the meaning of personal space. He spends the better part of the tour hooking an arm through yours, touching your hair, or pestering Dabi. While some may take this over-familiarity as a sign of disrespect, it feels more to you as though he’s simply comfortable in his skin. 

Rude or not, his bold actions do nothing but spur your heart to beat out of your chest. Every time he guides you towards an attraction with a cheerful comment, you swear his fingers purposefully dash under your layers of clothing, brushing faintly at the skin of your waist in a way that makes your heart (among other parts) flutter.  

“And as I’m sure you know, we’re filming this music video mid-tour,” his hand flits away as swiftly as it skimmed you, prolonging the torture of wondering whether his movements are purposeful or a figment of your twisted imagination. After showing you most of the fabricated scenery— and even the gorgeous, cherry-red convertible that was rented— for the video, you’ve arrived at the group’s infamous tour bus. You once read that most of their concerts end with the vehicle being mobbed by ruthless fans, one of the sole reasons you’ve never attended a show. Someone as busy as you doesn’t have time for all the horrid traffic the mobs cause. “Wanna see inside? It’s actually pretty roomy.” 

You nod, eyes trailing towards Dabi, who’s busy stomping out the most recent cig he’d been puffing on. Aside from the occasional chuckle at your flustered blunders or annoyed curse thrown towards Hawks, the taller man had kept mostly to himself. His indifference confuses you, makes you wish you hadn’t reacted so bitterly to the loose smile and banter he offered you upon first meeting. At the same time, part of you is irritated by his standoffish personality. From what you’ve seen so far, his remarks serve the single purpose of humiliating others for his own amusement— a stark contrast to the misjudged softy he’s portrayed as on camera. 

You’re guided onto the bus and Dabi follows, cursing under his breath at something or other. Sociable as he is, Hawks begins to chatter again, seeing no issue in being the center of your attention. You realize the space is much roomier than it seems. State of the art technology allows the bunk beds to fold back with a press of the button, leaving room for a decently sized couch. It’s also much cleaner than you would expect three young men living on the road to allow. 

“And the lowest one was my bunk, just in case you’d like to see it again later,” he whispers the sentence as though it’s his best kept secret, wagging his thick brows exaggeratedly to key you in on his joke. “Hey, why are you laughing? I’m totally seriou–” The doors swivel open and your giggles are cut off by heavy footsteps and a booming voice,

“Oi! Keigo! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You have to crane your neck to see the pillar of a man’s scrunched, stoic face. Endeavor, the pyrotechnic-obsessed “hype man” and third part of Suns of Icarus’s trio, stands a few feet from you, clearly exasperated by something his bandmate has done. Hawks must know precisely the reason for the bottle-redhead’s tone, because his face pales. 

“Enji, we made a new friend!” He pulls you into his chest in an obvious attempt to shield himself from the giant, but your face heats at the close contact regardless. 

“You were supposed to be on set for your solo scenes ten minutes ago,” he crosses his sculpted arms, “so let’s go.” The lively man is being whisked away by the larger one before he can utter a word of rebuttal. “Nice to meet you,” he calls casually to you over his shoulder. 

“Dabi, keep (Y/N) company! I’ll be back!” Hawks shrieks with a dramatic flare. The man was truly born to be an entertainer. 

An unbearable awkwardness envelops the two of you once you’re alone. Without his best friend around, Dabi drops any semblance of amiability, but it’s not as if he was trying very hard before. He plops down on the couch and pulls out his phone. You sit as far away from him as possible, but realize you don’t have your own device to keep you busy. After a few nervous minutes of twiddling your thumbs, you attempt to break the silence.

“So, Haw– Keigo and Endeavor use stage names, why don’t you?” You spout the first question that comes to mind, hoping it’ll spark an interesting conversation.

“Dabi is my stage name,” he answers curtly, without looking up from his cell. 

“Oh...but– even your bandmates call you by it?” 

“Yep. Don’t care for my real name,” his eye roll sends ice through your veins.

“Excuse me,” you snap, “have I done something to offend you?” The frustration in your tone wins you eye contact, at least. 

“Nope.”

“Unbelievable….I’m going to need your publicist’s information.” 

“Huh?”

“Well, anyone who can make you seem like the world’s most ‘misunderstood heartthrob’ on camera certainly deserves a pay raise, dontcha’ think?” His eyes drop to send a steely glare your way, but you’re too fed up to feel intimidated. You smirk at him, a single eyebrow raised in twisted satisfaction. There’s the bitchy self you know and love. 

“You don’t know the first fucking thing about me,” he sits up, “but I know everything I need to know about you.” 

“Oh? Enlighten me then, sir.” 

~~~

“You may think Keigo likes you, but he likes everyone. You’re, what, thinking you’re special because he’s throwing some attention your way?” Dabi inches closer. “Hoping he’ll get in your panties?” 

“It’s not like that at all–”

“Don’t lie. The idea of being with someone you’ve idolized for years is thrilling, isn’t it?” The heat that rises on your cheeks is enough to confirm his suspicions. “He doesn’t like to see people for who they really are, but I know your type...just another tramp that’ll use him and move onto the next,” his smug expression returns after that little rant. Paired with the tattoos covering most of his face, he appears every bit as wicked as the skeleton his ink emulates— devilish, even. 

“You’re wrong.” You can’t think of a proper argument when he’s so close to you, basically breathing down your neck. 

“Am I?” His hand trails up your clothed thigh, and an unwelcome shiver crawls up your spine. “So you’re going to stop me when I do this, right?” Then, he kisses you. 

It’s not at all soft, or compassionate, or anything resembling your naive teenage fantasies of the artist in the slightest. Rough, slender fingers wrap around your jaw and yank your lips to his. He doesn’t stop at a peck either, choosing instead to assail your mouth with all of his pent-up rage. The cool, hard metal of his lip ring strains against you, a pleasant contrast to the quick heat traveling the rest of your body. You want nothing more than to prove him wrong— to throw him off you, tell him to go straight to hell— but he takes your bottom lip between his teeth and- God, it just feels so good. Your mouth parts in a breathless moan and Dabi takes the reaction as an invitation to swipe his tongue against your teeth. With your bodies melding together violently, the make out feels simply a continuation of the intense argument you were having moments before. 

Pulling you between his lap, he shifts you so that your back is flush across his chest. Nimble fingers make quick work of your clothes. You just barely raise your hips so that he’s able to take your pants off with ease, but you’re sure he notices the eager movement. When you’re left in nothing but your panties, you feel the rumbling of his solid body behind you as he laughs, the sound bitter and pleased all at once.

“Oh you really are a whore,” he chides. “Who’d you wear these for, hm?” He runs his fingers across the band of your red lace thong. 

“Not you,” you bite back, feigning disinterest towards the dangerous position he has you in. The asshole’s not going to get to actually hear you admit defeat so easily. One of his hands kneads your chest and the other grabs your cheeks harshly, pushing them together so that you’re unable to speak.

“Not me? Take a good look at yourself, sweetheart.”  He lifts your head upwards and your breath hitches; the entire ceiling of the bus is covered in a dark, reflective surface. “Who has you naked in their lap right now?” he whispers onto your neck, licking a long stripe upwards until his teeth graze your ear. You watch fervently as he strokes his digits across one of your perked nipples, tweaking the bud roughly. “Who are you being such a slut for?” He’s aware he won’t get a response because his left hand still grips your face, demanding you watch his every move. 

Dabi then snakes his fingers down your midriff tortuously slowly, brushing lightly in a way he hasn’t touched you yet; as if the skin there is delicate, worthy of his valuable adoration. The ink traveling his arms makes him appear so ethereal, so sinister and compelling, that you can’t help but let out a muffled mewl. Once he reaches your panties, his fingers dart beneath the material and the tender moment is lost. An onslaught of pleasure wracks your body when he begins to draw quick circles on your clit. He lets go of your cheeks, now sore and reddened from both pressure and bliss. 

“I’m going to ask one more fucking time,” his fingers glide against your soaked slit, “who are you being such a dirty slut for?” You contemplate not giving him the answer he’s looking for, and part of you is sinfully curious about what may happen if you enrage him further; however, that idea is put to rest immediately when he snaps his head up to look at you through the mirror, blue eyes pooling with lust and a hint of something animalistic. That stare, paired with the relentless strokes across your clit, provokes your moaned answer,

“F-for you, Dabi.” He uses his free hand to insert two, thick digits inside you.

“Say it again.” 

“I’m- fuck– a s-slut for you,” you practically sob out. You press the back of your head into his shoulder harder, squeezing your eyes closed and biting your lip. 

“Not going to keep your eyes open? Fine.”  The fingers are removed from your clit and you’re about to let out an unsatisfied whine, only for him to grab the back of your head and mash your swollen lips to his once again. Then, after another brief caress of your abdomen, he’s back to touching your sensitive bud. All of your moans are silenced by his mouth, and you feel the vibrations of a low groan from his own throat when your ass grinds against his clothed member. When your stomach pulls taut you know you’re seconds away from feeling that all-encompassing pleasure, the tidings of an orgasm so close to washing over you. 

“Oi, Matches! You didn’t throw her out did you?” Hearing Hawks’ voice call out from the front of the bus has you reeling your lips away from Dabi, and though he slows his movements, he doesn’t remove his fingers from your core. Rather than push you away, he takes the other hand off your clit to hold you tightly against him. “(Y/N)? Dab–”

For a few seconds, the only sound you can hear is your own heart beating out of your chest. Takami takes in the scene in front of him— your bare body splayed across his best friend in the lewdest of positions. You know your face is blooming in embarrassment as you wait for a reaction, for his face to drop in disappointment, anger, anything. Instead, he smirks. 

“Starting without me? That’s no fair,” the golden-haired boy actually pouts, but there’s something deeper swimming in his eyes, something almost bloodthirsty. Though this is happening right in front of you, you can’t truly believe it. Dabi relieves the pressure of his arm from your chest.

“Look Kiego, the whore’s fucking drenched for us,” he lifts his fingers towards the beautiful man in front of you proudly, as if showing off a trophy or a new toy. Then he pops the damp fingers in his own mouth, humming at the taste of you. Hawks’ tongue dips out of his mouth, darting across his bottom lip. 

“I want a taste,” he leers at your bright panties, now soaked through. You think you must have died and gone to heaven, what with the two Adonises staring at you as if you’re their last meal. Hawks kneels at the foot of the couch, brings his face right up to your navel, and licks a long, cold swipe. His digits toy at your waist like they were earlier, except this time the movements are decisive and fierce. Just as he’s about to tug your panties down and place his mouth where you want it most, Dabi seizes his jaw and pulls his partner into a long, sloppy kiss. You let out a sigh at the view and— teases that they are— the sound doesn’t go unnoticed by either of them.

“Is watching us turning you on?” Dabi taunts cruelly. 

“Looks like she’s a bit of a pervert, hm?” Hawks retorts, sliding a finger across your clothed slit. The movement causes your entire body to quiver, your senses on high alert. Without another word, he leans down again, shifts your panties to the side, and takes your clit between his lips. The way he laps at you hungrily makes you believe your initial judgment of him was completely inaccurate, and when he inserts two lengthy digits inside you, the thought is confirmed. Hot, white pleasure consumes your body as your core clenches around his digits. He simply cocks an eyebrow at you and chuckles darkly, holding you tightly against him by your waist so that you’re unable to wriggle away. Gone is the lovable persona you were introduced to, replaced now by someone entirely foreign, deviously lewd. 

“Fuck, Hawks,” you whimper, greedy for more. 

“Thought I told you to call me Keigo,” he scolds beneath you, biting the inside of your thigh so that a sharp gasp leaves you. 

“I-I’m sorry, K-Kei–” You’re cut off mid-moan when Dabi kisses you, wrapping one slender hand around your throat and squeezing. His other one threads through your hair and tugs harshly. A painful hiss leaves you but the sound only makes him pull harder, smirking against your lips.

It’s as though they’re competing for your attention. If one of the men evokes a sob or whimper, the other attempts to outdo him— and they have no regard for your body, becoming instead the battleground for their lascivious rivalry. You lose yourself in the intense sensations, unaware of time or its passing, instead focusing solely on the coil tightening in your abdomen. Every gasp, every moan, only pushes them further, and soon your legs are shaking as you feel yourself nearing the delicious edge. 

Just as you’re about to let go, allow yourself the mind-numbing relief of an orgasm, Kiego withdraws his fingers. Rubbing your bruised thighs together is a desperate attempt at friction, but the momentum is completely lost. Your core clenches around nothing, and you cry out, hopelessly bitter at the emptiness between your legs. 

“Sorry, princess,” his hair is sticking up, golden locks tousled from the harsh grip of your fingers. And yet he still looks perfect. He wipes your juices off his chin with a thumb, “but that’s for starting without me.” Despite the apology, he sounds absolutely delighted at your loss. You whine again, hoping it’ll change his mind. “What do you think, Dabi? Should we let her cum?” 

Hearing his name, the tattooed man takes his attention away from your chest and the onslaught of purple marks his lips’ were just peppering on your throat. 

“I don’t think so,” he tweaks at one of your nipples, eliciting a soft groan from you. “I want the bitch begging for it.” Dabi pushes you away from him and stands to unbuckle his belt. “Besides, don’t think she’s done enough to earn it.” You should be outraged at the way they decide your fate as if you’re not even present, but in reality it only thrills you, your clit throbbing at the lack of control. 

“You’re right,” your idol sneers, canines bared and gleaming as he unzips his own pants, “and I wanna see those pretty lips wrapped around me.”

They switch places, shifting you so that your breasts are pinned against the couch between Kiego’s legs. Dabi grinds his hips against your clothed center, and you mewl at the long-awaited friction, hard member straining against his briefs. 

“Get to work, princess,” Kiego calls to you, boxers down to his knees. You can only balk at the sight in front of you. His cock is thick and long, essentially everything you could’ve ever hoped for, but that’s not it. 

Rather, it’s the shiny, silver ball pierced through the shaft and poking out from the top of his head that stops you dead in your tracks. He notices your eyes widen at it, but only snorts, wrapping your hair around his hand and yanking you roughly towards him. 

“Oh, that little thing?” Now he’s shoving you against his length, using your face as nothing more than a means for friction. “Just a drunken dare from Matches.” The nickname provokes the other man into leaving a stinging slap against your behind. And just like that, the angered man drives himself into your cunt. 

“I told you,” slap, “not to,” slap, “call me that.” With each thrust into you, Dabi releases an onslaught of pent-up anger onto your rear, the biting pain causing you to cry out around Kiego’s member. 

“Yeah sweetheart, just like that,” he leans his head back against the couch with a deep groan. “Such a pretty little whore, choking on my cock.” One of his free fingers shoots out to wipe at your tears, hand moving ever-so-lightly to cradle your jaw. The gesture might have been sweet if his other hand wasn’t forcing you down further to swallow him whole. 

“Mmmph–” you scrape carelessly at Kiego’s thighs in an attempt to secure yourself, moans coming out garbled with his cock down your throat. 

“Not done with you yet, slut” Dabi still pounds into you relentlessly. You’re overwhelmed with the feeling of being stuffed from both ends, knees on the verge of giving out until he fastens his hands around your thighs, pulling you into him with even harder plunges. “Fucking take it.” Something hard and cold grinds inside you, and you’re acutely aware of the ridged piercings now pressing against that perfect, spongy spot in your heat.

When he reaches an arm around to rub furiously at your clit, you’re sobbing. Kiego’s deep, golden eyes watching you, Dabi’s unrelenting fingers and thrusts, it’s all too much. 

And then you’re finally letting go. Legs shaking, mind wracked with white as you clench your eyes shut. Your mouth moves away from Kiego’s shaft, only concerned with riding out your high. The tattooed man behind you doesn’t stop his movements either, still pressed deep inside you until your tongue lolls out of your mouth and you’re tapping furiously at his waist. Kiego smiles, taking himself in his hand and slapping his cock against your cheek while he strokes himself. 

“That’s it, baby,” he smooths your hair back, grunting. “You look so pretty when you cum.” He pumps himself a few more times before he finishes, sticky liquid spurting across your lips and into your hair. You reach around to grab at Dabi’s waist again, willing him to stop. He removes himself from inside of you only to flip you around and your cunt clenches at the feeling of emptiness. 

Pulling you into a long, winded kiss, he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip to taste Kiego’s release. Then he’s pushing you to your knees once more, hands threading through your hair roughly.

“Suck,” he scowls down at you. Though you’re breathless, still reeling from your orgasm, the simple command spewed at you has your lips wrapped around him in a second.

He isn’t as girthy as Kiego, but just as long. A trail of piercings go down his length, and your tongue brushes against the cool metal while you wrap your fingers around the area you can’t reach. You stare up at him through thick lashes, piercing blue eyes ogling you as you take him further in. His hand is still perched on your head, but he makes no movement to push you down— instead, basking in your slow seduction. 

You’re sure you look a mess, dried mascara down your cheeks and still covered in Kiego’s cum, but Dabi only revels in the power he has over you, positively thrilled at the way you no longer fight for dominance. He breaks eye contact only when the blonder man tugs him into a kiss, deep and passionate, and the sight only urges you to swallow him deeper. 

“I like her with her mouth so full,” Kiego whispers against Dabi’s lips. 

“Just as long as the bitch isn’t speaking,” the other man groans, rutting into your mouth so that you know he’s close. 

Soon he’s pulling out of you to pump his shaft, your mouth wide open so that the head of his cock brushes against your tongue. Kiego reaches down to move Dabi’s hand, grabbing at his partner’s length so he can stroke it himself. It doesn’t take long after that for the brooding man to cum, head thrown back in a loud grunt while the tantalizing male next to him coaxes him through the orgasm. Kiego angles him so that his hot, white liquid gushes onto both your face and tongue; you suck at Dabi’s head until he forcibly pushes you off him. 

“Fuck,” he sighs, running a hand through his sweaty locks. “Knew you were good for something.” With that final statement, he turns away from you, pulling his pants back on and returning to his spot on the couch as though he wants nothing more to do with you. 

Kiego walks away as well, and you’re sure you’re about to be kicked out now that they’ve had their way with you. A part of you is angered, but a larger part is still processing what just happened, savoring the earth-shattering orgasm the pair blessed you with. 

You look for your discarded clothing, trying to compose yourself so you’re able to get out of their way as quickly as possible. Kiego walks back into the common area, wet rag in hand. He doesn’t speak until he pushes you into the couch, rubbing the clean towel over your face softly.

“So, you’re coming to our concert next week, right?” 

---------------

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[lexosaurus]

Everything Was White: Part 12

[see all chapters]

Read on: [ffn] / [ao3]

---

The alarm was blaring.

Danny recognized the noise immediately. But his eyes were still slow to open, his arms were slow to turn off the offending sound, and his brain was slow to recognize that the white ceiling above him was just his bedroom ceiling.

His body was numb. Nothing felt real.

He grabbed his phone off his nightstand and unlocked it. The screen was too bright, but he didn’t care. He’d been through worse. What was a little eye strain to him, really?

There were text messages, but Danny ignored them. The government likely already read them first, so if they were important, Danny would probably have woken up back in his cell rather than his cozy bed.

Ghosts like Danny didn’t get to have comfort. He was unpredictable. Dangerous.

“You’re a feral beast.” Operative O’s deep voice rained down on him. “You need to be trained.”

Danny opened the Twitter app only to be faced with a crushing amount of notifications and his name on the top of the trending list.

He should have felt nervous. Anxiety should have gripped his stomach. But...it didn’t.

He felt nothing.

Numb.

He clicked on his name and scrolled through the tweets. As he suspected, that damn video of him at the PHP littered his screen.

Protests have begun to break out near the health clinic Phantom is attending. [image]

I don’t understand, why doesn’t he just fly into the building or something? Can he not fly?

Is phantom over?

It’s so gross how people feel the need to harass a teenager trying to recover from trauma.

imagine being a teen trying to get emergency mental help and then THAT walks into ur class 

What the fuck did the government do to him? 

He was numb.

Nobody knew what really happened in there, and Danny wanted so badly to keep it that way. And the worst part was, he thought that if he just forgot about it, tried to move past it, then it would all go away. And no one would ever know.

Except Vlad did find out. Somehow, Vlad had managed to get a hold of classified government files about Danny, and if what he had implied was true, then he had learned everything. 

And if Vlad knew, then…

No. He wasn’t going to think about it. 

Danny knew from the moment he’d stupidly revealed himself that his life was not his own anymore. He knew that he was going to be nothing but a government possession from that moment till the day he died.

He didn’t deserve to get upset over this.

He pulled up a blank tweet and started typing. His movements were robotic. Stilted. But one slip-up, just one reason for the public to get suspicious, and Danny knew that some seedy corner of the internet would pounce on the opportunity to dig deeper into Danny’s life than he was comfortable with.

Danny Phantom @dannyphantom Thank you everyone for the support. I’m back home with my family and am healing.

Before he could question what he was doing, his finger was already pressing send on the tweet. He watched as almost immediately, notifications popped up in his inbox. 

But he didn’t open his notifications, he didn’t look at the replies. Instead, he closed the app and shut his phone off.

He didn’t care anymore.

Maddie knocked on the door and asked him a question, and he responded with the right answer for her to leave. He got up and started his new morning routine of sitting in the shower for ten minutes, getting dressed, brushing his teeth, and heading downstairs for breakfast before leaving for six hours of mandatory therapy.

He stared out the window, watching the morning traffic pass by him. He couldn’t remember if he shampooed his hair or if he just sat under the scalding water. But it was fine. He was just a government-issued robot now. Whatever.

There were people lining the highway when Danny pulled into the PHP center. They were shouting different things, holding different signs, their cameras armed and ready as soon as the GAV came into view. The police were there, making sure no one escaped into the parking lot, and there were therapists waiting outside.

They didn’t know. They had no idea what Danny had gone through, why he was there.

And it didn’t matter. Not to them, not to Danny, not to the police or the news stations filming the scene or to the government or Vlad or anyone else. 

Danny wasn’t in charge of his life anymore. 

He was only here because the government had decided he could stay free. 

For now.

The therapists escorted him into the building. Danny felt hollow. Sick.

No, he was fine.

Maddie hugged him, told him to have a good day, that she’d be back to bring him to more therapy after, and Danny nodded. At least, he thought he remembered to nod. He might not have, though.

There was a window in the lobby. A white van was parked along the street.

The APC news van.

Jazz was right. Danny was just being paranoid about the white van outside of their house before. He was so stupid. 

Even if it wasn’t a news van, what would it matter? He didn’t control his life, what would he care if they finished him off in some back alley? What would it matter if they snuck him into their van and held him captive for the rest of his life in some damp containment cell?

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Danny spaced out for the morning meeting. He couldn’t remember if he managed to read off his paper for the other teens. His voice wasn’t working today. His head hurt. His chest hurt. Everything was numb.

They had art therapy today, run by a tall, lanky man with sandy hair and a clean-shaven face. He told the group to paint what they were feeling today, to channel their emotions onto their blank sheets of paper.

But Danny felt nothing. He had nothing to give.

He must have stared at his paper for too long, because the therapist tried to talk to him, ask him if he was alright, if he was having trouble with the exercise.

Danny didn’t respond, instead choosing to pick up the green paint and squeeze some of it directly onto his paper, rules be damned. It was too dark, so he grabbed the white paint and smeared it into the green. The color still wasn’t right, but Danny didn’t know enough about art to make it right, so he just kept spreading green across his paper. A dash of yellow, then some white, more green.

Time was up. His paper was green. 

“Good job, Danny. What do you think?” the therapist asked.

Danny stared at the paper, studying the streaks of yellow within the brush strokes. “It’s not the right shade of ectoplasm.”

The day continued with more emotion-managing lessons and group activities but Danny didn’t care and nobody could understand that. He was done with this, he was tired, it didn’t matter.

It was lunchtime, and Danny had no appetite. It felt like he had just eaten breakfast. His stomach was still full, but he had a sandwich sitting in front of him that he needed to eat or else they would tell his parents.

Danny held the sandwich between his fingers. It looked like sandpaper.

He didn’t want to eat it.

The therapist was looking at him. She was probably talking to him too, asking him questions about his day. But Danny ignored her. After all, didn’t he need to eat this lunch? How could he possibly eat and talk at the same time?

The teens were talking around him, but Danny blocked them all out too.

They were noisy.

It was like they weren’t even there.

Danny wasn’t human. He didn’t care. 

But you do care. 

He didn’t.

He was numb. 

Eat up like a good little dog. 

I’m not a dog.

Something inside him snapped, and he yanked on his cold core, channeling all his energy to his fingertips. His fingers tingled out of the tangible field, and the sandwich fell to the table.

“Whoa!” The blonde girl jumped, her eyes trained on Danny’s transparent skin.

“Danny?” 

There was an audience. Danny had forgotten about them. His core faltered, and the power faded from his fingertips. 

He should have felt embarrassed by this emotional display. He should have felt horrified that he’d allowed himself to act so inhuman and disgusting in front of these innocent bystanders.

But he was still numb.

“Sorry,” he said. “I was bored.”

“That was sick!” the brunette boy chimed in. “You can do that on command?”

“Usually.” Danny’s gaze flickered over to the therapist, who was giving him a strange look. He turned his attention back to the fallen sandwich. 

Maybe he would get kicked out of the program for this. For being too dangerous. That would probably be for the better. Then he could go free into the world. No more schedule, no more therapy, no more dissecting his emotions or talking about his trauma. 

Who cared about his trauma, anyway? Certainly not him.

“So you still have your ghost powers, then?” the blonde girl asked. “People were saying online that you lost them. The government took them or whatever.”

Danny brought his hand up to his face, willing his fingers to fade to invisibility. “They’re locked. But...I...they’re there. I’ll get them back.”

He would get them back. He needed them. 

Especially now.

Which was how he found himself sitting quietly outside his mother’s door. Waiting. He should have knocked probably, but he didn’t. Couldn’t. He didn’t know why, he knew he should just go back to his room, go to sleep, stop bothering his parents about this, but he needed his core back.

His mom would understand. She was a ghost biology expert, right? She would get why he needed his core back now.

He raised his fist to knock, but he must have already knocked before because the door opened, revealing his mother dressed in teal pajamas on the other side. 

“Danny?” She frowned, her brows pulling cautiously above her eyes. “What are you doing up, sweetie? Everything alright?”

“I, uh—” His voice was scratchy. He broke eye contact, staring down at his lap. “My—my core.”

“Something wrong?”

He licked his lips, his mouth dry. “I need it back.”

“Sweetheart,” she said in a patient tone. “We talked about this.”

“No. you talked.”

She sighed. “Danny, it’s nearly eleven. Can’t this wait till morning?”

“No. No. I need it.”

“I told you, hun, your core and body need time to heal properly first before we make any drastic changes to your physiology. Just give it a few more weeks, alright?”

“Weeks?” Danny’s voice rose in alarm. 

“I promise it’ll be all worth it.”

Static rang in his ears, and a steel claw clutched at his stomach.

His mom didn’t understand. Why would she? She was human. Humans would never get it. She didn’t understand. 

“No, I can’t…”

“Danny, you need to trust me. Your body needs to rest.”

“You don’t understand.”

She regarded him for a moment before opening her door fully. “Why don’t you come in and we can talk, then. You can tell me why this is so important to you.”

Danny peered inside the door, at the surprisingly average-looking bedroom before him. He could go in, tell his mother just how wrong he felt cut off from his core, how he was being blackmailed by Vlad, how there was a distinct record of every detail of what the Guys in White had done to him, how he had never felt so defenseless, so vulnerable in his life.

But he wouldn’t, and he knew he couldn’t. There was no way he could put it all into words. He was a ghost, she was a human. He couldn’t explain this to her.

Skulker and Vlad may have forced his revelation, but they gave him more secrets than he could ever have dreamt of handling.

Danny turned away. “It’s fine. Good night.”

“Hun…”

“Night, Mom.”

There was a tense silence before Maddie finally relented. “I love you, Danny.”

“You too,” he said reflexively. The words tasted sour on his tongue.

She didn’t understand. If she truly loved him, she would give him his core back right now, but she didn’t.

No, he was just being paranoid. This was just his Obsession talking. He didn’t need his core, he was just as much human as he was ghost. So what if he had to be a little more human for the next few weeks? Isn’t that what he’d always wanted?

To just be a regular human?

Maybe that was what his mother wanted. Maybe that was why she was postponing removing the chip. Maybe she was too afraid to see her son as a monster. A ghost. 

But that was crazy. She loved him.

She was telling the truth. 

His parents accepted him.

---

“You seem quiet today.”

Danny leaned back against the sofa, his arms crossed and his eyes looking anywhere but at the blonde figure sitting before him. The stress ball sat untouched on the table next to him.

He didn’t feel like doing therapy today. He didn’t want to talk. 

His mom was human, his therapist was human. No one was going to get it.

“What’s on your mind, Danny?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

He was fine. There was nothing to talk about. Even if there were things to talk about—and there weren’t, this was all just his Obsession going haywire—it wouldn’t matter anyway because he was defenseless and the government was going to kidnap him again. It was only a matter of time.

“You finished your first week with the PHP group today, right? How has that been going?”

“Fine.”

“Can you tell me about some of the activities you’ve been doing?”

“I don’t know.”

She sat there for a moment, as if giving him time to elaborate. But Danny wasn’t going to elaborate. He didn’t feel like talking today. 

He looked out the window. The leaves had changed color, the ripe greens fading to yellows, oranges, and reds. In another few weeks, the ground would be littered with fallen leaves.

Summer had barely just begun when he was dragged from his house, drugged, and locked away. And yet, even though his entire world had come to a halt, time still moved on.

The clatter of the therapist’s clipboard falling on a side table jolted Danny out of his musing. He flinched, his eyes snapping over to see the therapist rising from her chair. 

She stretched her arms behind her back and walked over to the closet. “You know what? It’s been a long day. Wanna play a game?”

“Um...are we allowed to do that?”

“I don’t see why not.” She grabbed a box out of the closet and placed it down in the center of the room.

Danny peered at it in confusion. “Jenga? Of—of all the games out there, you’re really gonna make me...make me get on the floor for Jenga?” 

“Oh, come on, it’s fun.”

“You must throw some wild parties,” he remarked, rolling his eyes. Nonetheless, he slid off the couch and slowly scooched himself towards the middle of the room. As long as he didn’t have to explain why he was two seconds away from ripping his own core out of his chest, he would go along with whatever game she threw at him.

The therapist carefully tipped the box upside down, sliding the lid up to reveal a tower of multi-colored wooden tiles jigsawed together.

“So here’s our marvelous tower,” she said. “You can reach that alright?”

“Yeah.”

“So normal Jenga rules. We switch off trying to remove a piece without causing the tower to collapse. Except, for this game, after you remove a piece, you’re going to pick a card from this stack—” She pointed to a deck of large cards set up next to the Jenga tower. “—and then answer the question on the card that’s the same color. So if I take a purple tile out, I’ll answer the purple question on the card. Got it?”

Danny glanced between the cards and his therapist’s eager face. He was fairly certain Jenga never involved a set of cards before.

Maybe he’d forgotten the rules. It wouldn’t have been the first time his brain had betrayed him. “Am I being quizzed?”

“Don’t worry.” She pushed up the sleeves of her blue cardigan. “They’re just basic therapy questions. Nothing too bad.”

No. This was a trick, wasn’t it? To get him to talk?

He wasn’t going to fall for it. “I thought we weren’t—weren’t doing that...today.” 

“The questions aren’t too deep. Honestly, I mostly just use this game as an icebreaker for new clients. But Jenga’s pretty fun all the same.”

He must have still looked too suspicious, because she threw him an easy smile and went, “Here, I’ll go first.” She carefully nudged a green tile out of the stack and drew a card. “Okay, so the green question on here says, ‘Describe yourself in three words.’ Well, I’d say I’m kind, I think I’m rather nerdy, and I’m a bit of a cat lady.”

That...wasn’t so bad. Maybe this would be an easy game. 

He doubted any of the questions asked him about his core. Maybe he could loosen up a bit, go along with this icebreaker game, if only for an hour before sinking back into his internal panic. 

“Cat lady?” he tried.

She chuckled. “I’m surprised that’s never come up! I have two at home.”

Right, his therapist had a life outside of therapy. Outside of his problems.

But it wasn’t like he knew her name. At this point, it was just too embarrassing to ask. Maybe she had told him that she had cats, and he just couldn’t remember. Maybe he would forget it again tomorrow.

Whatever. It was fine. He couldn’t care about things he didn’t remember. “Uh…” Danny pushed a purple tile out of the tower. “So I just pick up a—um, a card?”

“Yup, and read the purple question.”

Danny looked down at his card and rolled his eyes. “Oh, figures. ‘If you had superpowers, what would they be?’ Well, I’m dead. Does being dead count?”

She laughed, her voice light and airy. “Of all the questions, huh? Okay, let’s modify this a bit. If you could only keep one of your powers, which would you take?”

“Probably intangibility,” Danny said, his lack of hesitation surprising him.

“Oh? Why?”

“Well…” He rubbed the back of his neck. Where the chip was. “It’s the most useful, isn’t it? I can just...you know...I have no physical stuff in my way. I can just phase through any—anything I need. Or—no. Almost anything.”

Not shields. Those could still trap him.

Thankfully, she didn’t try to pry further, just offering him a kind nod and a “that makes sense” before pushing out another Jenga tile. “Blue! Alright, my question is, ‘What is your favorite feature about yourself?’ Hmm...that’s a bit tough, isn’t it? But I think my favorite thing about myself is my hair. When I was a teen, I used to straighten my hair, but then when I got to college, I stopped doing that and just let it be. Now I quite like my curly hair. Okay, your turn!”

“Okay.” Danny leaned over and pushed a red tile out of the tower. “Okay...my quest—question is…‘What is your biggest hope for your future?’ Oh...”

He did want to be an astronaut. But that was before, when he was still human. And then he was caught between thousands of volts of ecto-electricity and that future vanished right before his eyes.

What did he want to do with his life? What did he hope would happen?

He wanted his core back. He couldn’t let himself be so vulnerable for much longer. His chest felt like it was tearing itself apart, he needed to—

Breathe. And answer the question.

What did he hope for his future?

“I don’t know. My future’s kinda...ruined, isn’t it?”

“Try to think on a smaller scale.”

“I…” Danny ran a hand through his hair. He wanted his core back, he wanted to be Phantom, he wanted to protect Amity Park. But he couldn’t say that. It made him sound too ghostly. Too inhuman.

Humans didn’t have these kinds of otherworldly desires. She would think he was a freak if he told her. She wouldn’t know how to react.

“I want to finish PT.”

“That’s a good goal to have.”

“Your turn.”

Humming, she nudged a tile out of the Jenga tower and flipped over a card. “Okay, my question is, ‘What is something you were worried about when you were younger?’ Let me think…oh, here’s one. When I was young, my older sister moved out to live with her boyfriend. It was really scary because I had never lived without her, but we kept in touch and everything turned out okay.”

“I haven’t either. Lived away from Jazz I mean. Like—like for real. But she’s going to college next—next semester. I think she, uh...deferred a semester.”

“And you know, it’s common to feel worried about a sibling moving out. Periods of transition in life can be the most stressful for us, but it’s important to recognize that things will be okay.”

Danny looked down at the carpet. “I guess.”

Some days it felt like Jazz was the only one truly on his side. He was a lab rat, too well known and too hated to ever have a future, forever condemned to a vicious cycle of evading people like the Guys in White and Vlad for the rest of his life. Jazz was leaving him in a few months, his friends would follow in a few years, and in the end, Danny would be alone.

But he was fine with that. He’d accepted it. It was just his life now, there was nothing to say about it.

“It’s my turn, isn’t it?”

“Yup! Go right ahead.”

Danny removed another tile. “‘How do you think others view you and why?’” He paused, throwing the therapist a bitter look. “This is rigged.”

“Not rigged, that’s just a very lucky pick.”

“Lucky to who?” Danny groaned. 

What was with the universe finding new ways to torment him?

“Humor me,” the therapist said patiently.

Danny glared at his card, tapping his fingers against the edge. It wasn’t like the public opinion of him was exactly a secret, but it still hurt. Constantly. Like some scab he kept telling himself to ignore, but ignoring it was impossible because the public would never leave him alone.

“Not good,” Danny muttered. “People hate me.”

“Being in the public eye is very stressful for anyone, but to be unique in your way adds on an entirely different layer. People are afraid of the things they don’t understand, and that makes them forget that at the end of the day, you’re still a person.”

“Yeah.” Danny’s eyes were trained on the colorful tower before him, which was starting to blur as the prickling behind his eyes increased. He ducked his head and blinked, hoping to save face before it was too late. 

“That doesn’t mean everyone feels this way, though. But sometimes it can feel that way to you because the ones who are the most afraid, the most hateful, are the loudest voices in the crowd. But remember, Danny, you won that court case for a reason. You have more people on your side than you think.”

“I won it for now, you mean. I don’t...I don’t think…” His voice failed, and he pressed his fingernails into his palms. He took a few shaky breaths. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Danny. Why don’t we talk about the case for a minute?”

Tucker’s words echoed in his head, how it was televised. How millions of people all around the globe probably tuned in for it, or watched streams online, each person with their own opinion of him.

But he didn’t want to think about that right now. 

“No,” he said. “Can we—can we just continue the game?”

“If you’re not ready to talk about it, then that’s okay. Thank you for letting me know.”

“It’s your turn.”

“Alright.” She pushed a block out of the tower. “So...alright, my question is, ‘What memory do you treasure the most?’ To that, I think fishing with my dad as a child. He was a big support for me when I was growing up, and I really valued our times fishing together as important bonding moments for us.”

Danny nodded politely, trying his best to not appear like he was counting down the seconds until therapy was over.

He could feel his emotions building inside him, threatening to topple the carefully constructed dam guarding his secrets. This was such a simple game, these were such simple questions, so why did he feel like he was failing?

He pushed out a Jenga tile—a red tile—from the tower and grabbed a card, scanning the questions until he found the red one.

What are you afraid of?

The words echoed back to him, and he pushed the card away. He didn’t want to look at it, he didn’t want to read those words or hear her voice because saying the question would mean he would have to talk and he only agreed to this stupid game to get out of talking.

There was so much he was afraid of that he had no right to be afraid of. Because he deserved this. Getting revealed was his fault, he was being reckless. He deserved all of it.

The experiments with the Guys in White. The pain, the way his skin was torn apart. How they threw him in a vat of ectoplasm the next day to heal, and how the ectoplasm entering his lungs made him feel like he was drowning because even though ghosts didn’t need to breathe, he still used those organs reflexively as Phantom. But he was in too much pain and his brain was too hazy to fight back. He could only sink into the darkness.

The red bag. The way it tasted, smelled, how it haunted him every day and how he revisited those moments every night in his dreams. How he would wake up each day and the drawer on his nightstand would be shimmering in the morning sun, as if tempting him to open it up, grab the bottle inside, let it help just for one day. It can take the edge off, he can be functional. Who cares if he’s cheating? It’s just for a day...

The public. The people. Their judgments, their words. How he was, on a molecular level, so vastly different from them. How he could never be the same. He would never have a normal life, he could never have a normal job, a normal family, normal friendships, ever again. There would always be something there, something alien between them.

Even between him and his best friends. There was just something... different ever since the portal accident. It had brought them closer together, sure, but in other ways it had also driven an invisible wedge between them. Because Danny would always have his powers, he would always be a half ghost, and there would always be things now that Sam and Tucker would never understand. 

How much would change now? Now that he was in the public eye, now that he’d gone through government torture? Now that his brain didn’t work the same?

And his core. His humanity. Why were his parents so apprehensive about it?

What are you afraid of?

Why wouldn’t his parents let him down into the lab? What were they hiding? They said his core was damaged, but it had been months since he was ripped open. His surgical damage had healed, his broken bones were back to normal, and even though his nerve endings in his chest and spine were still fried, they had been slowly mending themselves too.

Ectoplasm healed faster than human physiology. His core should have been fine by now.

What was the truth?

“They accept me,” Danny said automatically.

“Who does?”

Who accepted him?

Sam and Tucker did. 

His family…

Did they?

“I don’t know.”

“You have people in your corner, Danny. Your parents, your sister, your close friends. They all care about you. We’re all here for you, even if those loud voices in the public tell you otherwise.”

But if they cared...

“Then why won’t they let me have my core back?”

“Your core?”

“My powers. My ghostliness. Ectoplasm.” Danny let his eyes flair to emphasize his point.

If his therapist was scared of his otherworldly display, she didn’t show it. Instead, she continued to look at him with her neutral expression, free of the judgment he’d come to expect from people since the accident.

And for some reason he couldn’t explain, that irritated him. 

“You mean the inhibitor chip?” she asked.

“Yes. They told me it was because my core...it was damaged but—but it doesn’t make sense! It doesn’t...”

“Have you talked to them about this?”

Of course he had. They kept repeating that his core was damaged. And they were probably right—for a time, at the very least. But that was months ago. 

Why hadn’t they scanned his core recently? Shouldn’t they be happy to learn it was healed? Shouldn’t that make them relieved?

What were they afraid of?

What are you afraid of?

“Do you think it would be helpful if I talked to your mother about this?” asked the therapist. “As a way to introduce the topic? She likely doesn’t know how much it’s bothering you.”

But that didn’t make sense either because Danny brought his core up every day. His parents knew how much it was bothering him. They had to have known, right?

So why were they doing this to him?

What were they hiding?

What are you afraid of?

---

Danny tried to remember a time where walking from his living room to his kitchen didn’t require a list of steps to be taken beforehand—a time where he could just get up and walk. But those memories were far too distant now.

And besides, this was his reality now. A reality where something as simple as walking made his head spin.

He shouldn’t dwell on the memories of how easy it used to be for him, he shouldn’t have snapped at Jazz for getting a cup of water for him because he knew the glasses were too high to reach from his wheelchair, he shouldn’t allow this irrational anger to overtake him every time the creeping anxiety of his future as Amity Park’s ghost hero came into question.

He just needed to focus on where he was now. Curled up on his couch avoiding his parents.

Everything felt wrong this morning when he woke up. For a moment, he had managed to convince himself that he was just being paranoid. That it was just his damaged nerve endings freaking out as normal. That once he took his medication, his problems would go away. 

But they didn’t. He still felt wrong. His chest still felt wrong.

It was manifesting in other ways too. He couldn’t walk as long today at PT. His physical therapist told him it was just a bad day and that his body was probably just tired from his busy week. But Danny knew that wasn’t right.

It had nothing to do with him being tired. He wasn’t sick. He wasn’t anxious.

His core was the problem. His parents were the problem.

He tried asking about his core again on the way home from PT, using conversation techniques he went over with his therapist at the end of their last appointment, but Maddie just brushed him off. Said they would talk about it later.

But then later came and...she didn’t.

Danny tried asking his father, but he brushed Danny off too. Said Danny needed to focus on healing first.

But how was he supposed to heal when he was missing half of himself?

He felt wrong. So wrong. His body was too bound by gravity, it was too empty, it wasn’t listening to him.

He pressed his palms into his forehead. His hands were clammy. Shaking. Speckles of cold touched them—or was that his tears? Was he crying? 

No.

He pressed the heel of his hands into his eyes. What was wrong with him? Why was he acting this way?

The government had him in a cage. They tormented him in ways he would rather die than live through again. But then it ended, and he was freed. He was allowed to go home, he could live his life as a legal person again. 

Except, he wasn’t free. Not at all. He was still trapped here in Amity, in his house, in his body. He had no control. Not over what he ate, when he slept, where he went, what he could say, what he could think. 

Half of him was still locked up tight with no hope of escape.

His water glass was empty. It would have been too embarrassing to ask someone to help him, but he was so thirsty and dehydrated and he just really needed this to work. He needed his body to respond to him. For one moment, please, just let his body respond.

Gripping the water cup in one hand and his walker in the other, he tried to stand, to walk over to the kitchen sink. But balancing everything was so difficult, his body was still fatigued from PT, and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to do it but he just needed to try.

But he couldn’t do it in the end. The cup slipped out of his hand and tumbled onto the carpet, thankfully saved from shattering on impact by some last shred of luck the universe decided to pity him with.

And now Danny too was on the floor because he couldn’t bend down to pick the cup back up like a normal person, and he didn’t want to call for help, and he couldn’t use any of his powers, and he felt so trapped. So helpless. So vulnerable.

He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it was too stubborn and he was too useless.

A tear splattered against his hand, and he gripped the floor, his body trembling.

“Stop crying. Stop it.” he hissed. 

He was weak. 

Plasmius, once nearly his equal, had so severely overpowered him the other night. It was embarrassing. On the hierarchy of ghosts, where was he now? At the bottom with the blob ghosts?

But those ghosts could still fly. They could still turn intangible. Things that Danny couldn’t even do.

Hell, he was so weak that even the Box Ghost could defeat him now.

“Stop crying.”

He crawled back to the couch, the thought of getting water abandoned on the floor along with the last semblance of his dignity. Another tear fell from his cheek, and he desperately tried to ignore it, ignore his dry throat, ignore the pain in his chest, ignore his core and the Y-scar on his body and his new place in the ghost hierarchy as lower than dirt, ignore everything. Just focus on getting back to the couch. Shut down, go numb.

He was fine, he was okay.

He just needed to push through this. Just toughen up, quit whining. Life wasn’t fair. So what if he was now just a regular human? Hadn’t he been human for the first fourteen years of his life? He needed to suck it up.

Dragging himself back onto the safety of the couch cushions, he pulled one of Jazz’s throw blankets around his body and pressed a pillow into his face.

Never in his life had he been so tempted to scream, to curse, to finally let the last brick fall and allow hell to break loose. But his parents were in the basement, Jazz was upstairs, and he was fine. 

He was fine.

---

Huge thank you to tumblr user and writer @imekitty for proofreading this chapter. She’s amazing and I owe her my life.

And as always, thanks for reading!

---

<previous chapter / next chapter>

[queenrose730]

Reckless

Part Five

Master List

“She passed out.” Steve looked to Bucky. “Are you good to walk on your own?”

 “Yea. I’m fine Steve. Take care of her.” Bucky helped the elevator doors open faster as Steve picked yn up. He was careful with supporting her shoulder that was still dislocated.

 “We need to get that shoulder in place.” Bucky said as he noticed Steve’s caution.

 “Once we get out to the jet and wake her up. She’s got a pretty good cut on her thigh too.”

Bucky lead the way out of the bunker. He pushed the door open farther so it was easier for Steve to carry her through. They stopped though just outside. A figure in black stood at the base of the jet as ramp. Another figure was kneeling beside him.

“Your highness.”

 “Captain Rogers. Is agent yln ok?”

 “She will be.” Steve could feel Bucky tensing behind him.

 “Please.” T’challa motioned for Steve to head up the ramp to the jet. “I mean no one here any harm.” Steve gave a sharp nod and headed past the King to place yn on the bench at the back of the jet. Bucky stayed where he was at. His eyes had focused on the man knelt next to T’challa.

 “This man will cause you no more problems Sargent Barnes. I will be taking him back to Germany.” T’challa turned to face Steve. “I would also like to extend an invitation to wakened for the three of you.”

 “Why?”

 “I am done letting vengeance and hate consume me. I wish to help you both do the same.” T’challa turned back to face Bucky. “I also believe that we may be able to help remove the conditioning that was forced upon you Sargent.” Bucky’s eyes went wide at the thought that he could be free of the Winter Soldier. Steve spoke up first.

 “Thank you your highness. We will talk it over.”

 “Very well. I will send you the coordinates. Now I must return this man to Germany.” He lifted the man that was knelt beside him and walked down into the tree line.

 “Bucky?” Steve moved toward his friend who was still in shock. “We need to get yn patched up and get out of here.” Bucky shook his head and followed Steve into the jet.

 “Try and wake her up. I’m going to get some med supplies together.” Steve began rummaging through the med supply cabinet. “Just be careful. She will probably try and throw a punch or two.”

 “Right.” Bucky recalled how she reacted when Sam tried waking her up. She pulled a damn gun on him.  

“You really don’t like waking her up do you Steve.”

 “Just spreading the joy of waking her up around.”

 Bucky placed his hand on her left shoulder and shook her gently.

 “Yn?”

  Fight.

 There was a fight. Your eye shot open. A face was close to you. You swung your left fist as hard as you could. The person groaned at the collision. You tried to sit up but the person now had their hand on you left shoulder holding you down.

 “Yn! It’s Bucky.” You shook your head willing it to focus.

 “Where’s Steve?” You shouted back. Barnes looked up. You strained your neck to see where he was looking.

 “I’m right here sweetheart.” Steve was kneeling just above you head. He placed his hand on your cheek.

 “Calm down ok?” You let your breathing slow down taking in more of what was going on around you. They had you back in the jet. You were laid out across one of the benches in the back. Barnes still had his hand on you shoulder.

 “You can let go.” You adjusted your shoulder as he let go and grabbed your hand to help you sit up. “Sorry about the punch.” You winced as you sat back. The pain was slowly building in your other shoulder.

 “Didn’t expect any less yn.”

 “We have to get that shoulder set yn.” You turned your attention to Steve who was still kneeling on the floor.

 “Yep. I hope you have some pain meds for me first.” He held up an auto injector.

 “Got it ready. I’m going to give you a little extra ok?” You nodded in agreement and Steve pushed the injector into you left shoulder. Letting the meds wash over you, you leaned your head back against the wall.

 “Where’s Tony, Steve?”

 “I’m not sure. We haven’t seen him leave yet.” You hummed an answer back. “Are you ready for me to set this?” Steve had moved to you right side gently picking up your arm.

 “As I’ll ever be I guess.” You held you hand out to Barnes. He just looked at you like you had sprouted another head. “Unless you want to peel me off the ceiling. Take my damn hand Barnes.” He moved closer and took your hand in his.

 “Ok yn. Deep breath in then out.” You looked straight ahead as you took your breath in. As you release it Steve rotated your arm back into its place. You screamed at the pain and put all you could into squeezing Barnes hand to keep what focus you could from not moving too much.

 “Just keep breathing sweetheart.” Steve coached you.

 “Right.” You said through gritted teeth trying to keep each breath steady. After a moment you released Barnes hand. He took a seat on the bench across from you. Steve started working on cutting off you suit.

 “You’re ruining my outfit Steve.”

 “Sweetheart it was already ruined.” He gave you the best smile he could. You groaned back as he slid you top off your shoulders. A sting on your left arm caught your attention.

 “How bad is it?”

 “Well the one isn’t too bad. But the one on your thigh will probably need stitches.” You looked down at your leg. Sure enough it was bad. A long deep gash ran over the top of your thigh.

 “Ugh. Where’s Nat when you need her.” Steve was a little more careful cutting your pants off as to not hit the cut. Once everything was off and you sat there in your underwear he started to patch you up.

 “Here.” He helped put your right arm in a sling to support your shoulder. You followed his instructions too tired from the pain meds to fight. The cut on your other arm was quickly cleaned and wrapped. Steve now sat between your legs getting ready to stitch.

 “I hate your stitches Steve.”

 “I know. It’s not supposed to be pretty. Just had to get the job done.” You hissed in pain as he cleaned the wound.

 “I see you’re back to staring Barnes?” His eye widened then looked to the ground. “Eh. Take a picture it last longer.”

 “Yn.” Steve said with just a hint of warning. But you ignored him and just closed your eyes. He was starting to stitch and you needed to think of anything but what he was doing.

At some point while he was stitching you had let the pain meds win and fell asleep. When you woke up, you had been redressed in what you assumed was Steve’s clothes. Your right arm was still in the sling and whoever dressed you just left it under the shirt. Barnes was still sitting across from you but his head was tilted back and eyes closed. What was left of his shoulder had been wrapped and the blood cleaned off his face. You leaned forward to see that Steve was sitting at the front of the jet. You gingerly lifted yourself off the set. Every part of your body protested the movement. Your legs felt like they were made of stone. Begrudgingly you moved forward to meet Steve. He watched you as you sat down in the chair next to him just as cautiously as you had stood up.

 “How are you feeling yn?”

 “Like I got hit by a bus. Then it backed up and hit me again.” You groaned trying to find a comfortable position.

 “Yn,” he sighed. “That was so stupid what you did back there.” You turned and gave him a wide smile.

 “Stupid and reckless right?” He just shook him head and laughed. You both now looked out the front window, admiring the clouds as they went past.

 “Steve. What are we going to do now? Sam and everyone else are still locked in that hell hole. And Rhodey.” your words trailed off as tears threatened. Steve reached over and place a hand your thigh.

 “Yn. You let me worry about them. I will get them out. I just need you to get better. Please.” He cut you off before you could even get a word of protest out.

 “Fine.” He looked like crap. Cuts and bruised littered his face. Dark circles hung under his eyes. Both from Tony’s punches and the lack of sleep he had to be running on. “But I need you to take care of yourself too. Go back and get some sleep. I’ll handle everything up here.” He leaned back in his seat, rubbing his hands over his face.

 “Ok yn.” He looked back over to you. “You haven’t even asked where we are going?” You shrugged glancing down at the screens.

 “Wakanda?” Your eyes widen slightly. Why on hell would Steve be heading there?

 “We were offered an invitation from T’challa. He is also willing to the Bucky.” Steve stood up and placed a hand on your shoulder. “It will be ok. I promise.” He placed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

 “I know”

 You listened as he retreated to the back of the jet. Taking some time to double check all the instruments in front of you. You could just make out Steve and Barnes talking. The quinjet was meant to travel fast but Steve had the speed set down low. That was good. It made you look like a regular plane if you did get picked up on radar. Next to check the flight path. Again Steve had that set perfectly too. Making sure that the jet stayed out of any large city air space. You felt a presence standing next to you.

 “Let me guess.” You turned in your seat to face Barnes as he sat down where Steve was just sitting. “Steve asked you to babysit?” He gave a slight sigh and nodded his head. “Well if anything goes wrong at least between the two of us we have a two working arms.” He gave you a smile that reached his eyes. He sat back in the seat and looked out the window. You followed his lead.

 “You know I always love being up here. Up in the clouds. It’s like I was meant to be here.” Barnes didn’t say anything. “It’s just peaceful.” You both sat in silence for a long while. Every few minutes though you had to try and adjust your body to keep from getting to stiff. The last time you moved you caught Barnes looking at you. You held back the wince as to avoid showing how much pain you were really in.

 “I’m sorry yn.”

 “And why is that Barnes.” You stayed facing forward.

 “I saw the bruise around your sides and I’m pretty sure when I fell on you I felt something break. Are your ribs ok?” You turned you head to him. He looked like you had already berated him for injuries and he was taking full responsibility.

 “Listen. You aren’t the first guy to leave bruises on me.” He raised his eye brows at you. “Although you might be the first to break a rib.” You turn back to the window before you could see his reaction.

 “Any way, I am still sorry. But also thank you.”

 “And what, may I ask, are you thanking me for?”

 “For being here for Steve. I know you probably don’t like me, but it means a lot to me that he has such good friends.” His words took you by surprise.

 “I don’t hate you. It’s just,” You let out a breath and turned you head back to him again. “It’s kind of hard for me to get over someone trying to kill me.” He tensed up at your words. You reached over to touch his arm. “I know it wasn’t really you, but you did a lot of damage.” When he looked up to you his eyes were full of tears.

 “Yn, I-” You raised you hand at him.

 “Don’t. I know you are sorry.”

 “How bad was it?”

 “Do you really want to know that?” He had dropped his head again.

 “No.”

 “Good. Then don’t worry about it Barnes.” You placed your hand on his chin and lifted his face. “I am fine. Just a little salty.” You gave him a reassuring smile which he returned.

 “You know you can call me Bucky.” You signed and dropped you hand from his face.

 “I give up. Fine.” You rolled your eyes at him. “Bucky.”

 The beeping from the instrument panel pulled you from his blue eyes. You shook them and his smile from his mind. Focusing on what was making noise.

 “Go wake up Steve. We are almost there.” You started getting the jet ready for landing.

 “Sure thing, doll.” You spun in your seat a little too fast to look at him, wincing at the pull from your ribs, but he already had his back to you walking toward Steve.

Tags- @ginger-swag-rapunzel

[yandere-society]

hi, can u do jeongguk yandere which he’s a werewolf and the oc childhood sweetheart???

Moon Bound

Jungkook, YN’s childhood best friend, abandoned her their senior year of high school without a word. Determined to forget him, YN attends college across the country. But what will she do when he shows up on her doorstep rain soaked and sharp toothed, confessions and craziness slipping from his lips?

Warnings: Yandere themes

Admin @chimchimsauce

YN always hated storms. Ever since she was but a small tot, the bright flashes of light and loud boom that shook the air after terrified her to her core. Without fail, she would run towards whoever was nearest for comfort.

That’s how she met Jungkook. Her parents and his had decided to get together for dinner after Jungkook and his family moved in next door. It started off fine. Jungkook was shy kid with big eyes and a small smile who agreed to play with the stuffed animals she insisted on bringing over.

After eating, the adults talk about whatever adults talk about while YN and Jungkook play in his bedroom.

“You know,” six-year-old YN said as she raised a purple giraffe into the air, “You don’t talk very much.”

Jungkook’s cheeks went red in an instant and the eye contact he struggled to maintain fell away.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice quiet and small smile gone.

YN could tell right away that she hurt his feelings.

“It’s not a bad thing,” YN found herself saying, “You can be quiet if you want. I can talk for the both of us.”

And just like that the smile was back and a best friendship was formed.

Jungkook and YN were best friends for over a decade. They saw each other every day at school and then saw each other some more during the evening when they hung out. They were inseparable, closer than two people could possibly be.

And it was heaven. Jungkook understood YN better than she understood herself. He supported her when even her parents were against her decisions. He was there for the bad days just as wholeheartedly as he showed up for the good ones. And of course, because he was Jungkook, the sweetest and kindest best friend, the years were incredibly kind to him. He bloomed like a rose, beautiful and eye catching and tempting to all who swarmed around him.

But he never abandoned YN. Because if Jungkook was a rose, YN was the moonlight watching over him. Sure, sunshine brings out the best in people, helps them shine the brightest, but the moon knows your deepest secrets. The moon watches over you with gentle reassurance and a knowing smile, a peaceful friend.

Jungkook’s life was perfect. Perfect, until his senior year of high school when he came home to find a giant beast lurking in his living room. Before he could scream, his mother came out form behind the beast, a gentle smile on her face.

“Get away from that thing, Mother!” Jungkook shouted, rushing towards her and hiding her small body behind his larger one.

“There’s no need to be afraid, darling,” his mother says, “He will do you no harm.”

“He? Mom, it’s a wolf! He could kill us!” Jungkook says, terrified.

“He’s also your father,” his mother says.

One simple sentence changed his life forever. That night, over a steaming hot cup of cocoa he didn’t touch once, his parents explained that Jungkook wasn’t human. They told him of the Moon’s curse and the way it passed from generation to generation, from father to son. They told him of the changes he would soon be experiencing and the role he was to play in this world he didn’t know existed.

“What do I tell YN?” he asked, mind reeling.

He wanted nothing more than to run to her and let her comfort him, tell him that his parents were crazy.

But he’d seen the beast transform into his father right before his eyes. As much as he wanted to, Jungkook knew that there was no way this was fiction.

“You can’t tell her,” his father says sadly, “I know the two of you are close, but that will have to stop. It’s too dangerous. We have to keep our secret to keep us all safe.”

“She wouldn’t tell anyone! I know she wouldn’t! You know she wouldn’t!”

His mother places a pitying hand over Jungkook’s tightening fist.

“YN is a very sweet girl. A very good girl. But she’s also human.”

“SO ARE YOU!” Jungkook roared out, standing up with a force strong enough to send his chair tumbling.”

“But I am your Father’s moon bound,” his mother continues, “The one the mood goddess chose to love him and help continue his legacy.”

“But I love her!” Jungkook insists, desperation beginning to take over.

He’s known YN nearly his whole life. She’s his best friend, the person he trusts more than anyone on the planet.

“You may feel that way now, son, but -” his father starts to say.

“I don’t want to hear it!” Jungkook screams.

“But the moon goddess knows what’s best for you. She will send you the one who is truly meant for you.”

“It’s YN, I know!” Jungkook says, “It has to be!”

“You will find out on your twentieth birthday. That is the day that your transformation will be complete. Until then you have to stay away from her.”

“No!” Jungkook says.

His emotions are all over the place. He’s scared and angry and confused and it swirls together into a violent storm in his brain.

“You could hurt her, Jungkook. These next two years are going to be difficult and dangerous. You never know when your body will change or when your mind will yield to the wolf’s call. You could end up killing her.”

That knocks the air out of his body. He’s never lay a hand on her, never.

“I-”

“That’s why you will be going to the University meant for Werewolves as soon as you graduate. It’s best if you just cut YN off now before anyone gets hurt.”

And that’s exactly what he did. Without a single word to her, Jungkook forcibly removed himself from YN’s life. He ignored her in school, blocked her number, and never answered her when she rang his doorbell. No matter how much she tried to talk to him, Jungkook rbushed YN off like she was an annoying fly, never so much as giving her an explanation. 

It hurt. It hurt more than YN wanted to admit. She spent most nights her senior year crying herself to sleep, unaware that Jungkook’s newfound senses caused him to hear her pain. Her grades slipped, she lost weight, and that glimmering personality that she carried with her faded into nothingness.

It was like she was an entirely different person, the old her dead and gone right along with Jungkook’s friendship.

So when she graduated, YN wanted out. She refused to spend another moment thinking about Jungkook, glancing out her window into his with the feeble hope that his blinds would be open. She moved across the country, leaving her old persona behind her, lit with fire to become someone she would be proud to look into the mirror and see.

And she did. For once, YN was the flower, digging strong roots and blooming under the sunlight. The only thing she carried with her from her past was her fear of storms.

Right now, thunder booms loudly in her ears and she huddles under her sheets, trying her hardest to keep calm and breathe evenly. When a loud ring sounds through the air, YN startles, wondering what it is. When it comes again, she recognizes it as her doorbell.

Odd. She doesn’t usually get visitors this time of night. Still, YN goes to answer the door, bringing her blanket with her. It’s too dark for her to see out of the peephole, so YN unbolts the door and opens it fully. 

For a moment, everything is black. Then lightning zooms across the sky and illuminates a face she never thought she’d see again.

“Jungkook?” YN asks, breathless.

Thunder booms again and she shrieks, only to be swept up into once familiar arms and ushered back into her home, the door slamming shut behind them.

“I missed you so much,” Jungkook says, his voice muffled by YN’s hair as he hugs her tightly, “So so much.”

“What are you doing here?” YN asks, uncomfortable, “How do you know where I live?”

Jungkook ignores her questions and pulls away to look at her face, caressing it.

“I love you so much. I’m so glad that it’s finally time for us to be together.”

YN rips herself away from him, growing scared.

“What are you talking about? Why are you even here? I don’t want to see you,” she hisses out.

The venom is minimized by the way she jumps when thunder sounds again.

“You don’t mean that. I know i have a lot of explaining to do but -”

“No,” YN says, “I tried to talk to you every day for an entire year. You don’t get to pop back into my life like this. Get out, Jungkook. I don’t want to see you.”

For a moment, all is silent. Jungkook’s face falls in the dim light. He looks so different now, bigger and more filled out. Gone is any trace of the little boy she used to play with. 

“You’re going to see me,” he says, his voice completely devoid of any and all emotion, “I didn’t kill my moon bound for you to reject me, YN.”

A chill shoots down YN’s spine. She has no idea what he’s talking about, but she does know that he’s insane. YN grips her wet blanket close to her body, trying to figure out what to do. Maybe she can make a run for it?

Thunder booms again and YN shinks back, terrified. 

“Please don’t hurt me,” she says, tears beginning to fall down her cheeks.

“I’d never hurt you, YN,” Jungkook says adoringly, “Never ever. I don’t care what the mood goddess says. I’ve always known you were mine. Why worship her when I have you?” he says, pulling her close once more and nuzzling into her neck.

YN feels something wet and warm glide along her skin and she freezes, stiff as a statue.

“Now why don’t I run you a bath and we get caught up, okay? It’ll be like I never left,” he says, pulling away.

Lightning illuminates the room and YN can see the blood caked onto his fingers and his teeth, much too sharp and much too bright. Jungkook catches her staring and nods innocently, having the gall to look ashamed. 

“I should have cleaned up before I came, but I was so excited to see you! I’d kill anyone who tries to keep us apart. Now how about that bath?”

YN can do nothing but nod, looking at the boy she once loved and seeing nothing but a monster.

[mummybear]

Getting Into Trouble

This Is Day 5 Of Roleplay May

Words: 4114

Warnings: Smut, Wall Sexy, Swearing, Dirty Talk, Rough Sex, Think That’s It :P

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, (Marie) Reader’s Best Friend (OC), Sam Winchester, Unnamed Club Bitches

Summary: Meeting your best friend Marie at your local nightclub turns out to be a more exciting night that you had originally planned. Especially when your favourite doorman is on duty and doesn’t take his eyes off of you all night. This is also for @deanwanddamons​1Kfollowerchallenge So happy for you babe you deserve it :D I had the prompt .....  ‘Sometimes you need it so bad, it’s enough to drive a young girl mad.’

A cold chill whips through the summer air as you step out of the cab, quickly leaning inside the window to pay the driver. It doesn’t take long for you to approach the steps of the club, it’s a small but popular place. A place which had been quickly growing in popularity, largely thanks to the hot staff it had recently acquired, both inside and outside of the establishment. At least that’s what you had heard, however, you and your best friend Marie had been coming here for years before the change.

A small smile slips onto your lips when you spot your favourite bouncer and doorman, right at the front of the crowd standing on the very first step. He’s looking as handsome as ever, light brown hair styled just so, green eyes that are practically shining with that bad boy twinkle when he winks at you. 

He’s not as wide as the other guys, but he towers over them in height. With broad shoulders that you’ve often imagined clinging to and bow legs like no other man you’d ever seen. He’s dressed simply, but god does he wear all black extremely well. Tight black t-shirt, which you know from experience has the word security printed on the back in white block letters, with what look like tailor made pants and smart black shoes.

“Hey there sweetheart, long time no see” he greets you, just as friendly and charming as ever, with a gorgeous grin that’s all perfect teeth and plump lips. He takes your ID from you, letting his fingers gently graze yours, quickly glancing at it before he hands it back.

“Yeah it’s been a while, you’re still looking real good though” you smile sweetly, the tip of your tongue poking out between your lips as your eyes rake over him, appreciating every perfect inch of that man. 

“Uh, thanks” the blush that coats his freckled cheeks is so cute, you would’ve thought he was used to the compliments by now. He licks hips plump pink lips and flicks his eyes up to meet yours again. “You’re lookin’ pretty damn sexy yourself” he rasps, voice sounding a little deeper than before as he nips at his bottom lip with his teeth.

“Hopefully I’ll see you later and you’ll finally tell me your name this time” you smile back, returning his earlier wink and tucking your ID back in your bag. 

 “I’d really like that. Just don’t go and get yourself into any trouble. I will throw you over my shoulder this time” he warns you playfully, you don’t miss how he lets his eyes shamelessly rake over your body. 

You have to practically press your body against his to get inside, what with the amount of people trying to squeeze inside all at once. You look up at him through your black lashes, giving him your best seductive look. “Oh, promises, promises Mr green eyes. I might just have to get myself into a little trouble then” you wink as he shakes his head at you, giving you a gentle shove inside. 

“Go! I’ve gotta work!” he laughs, finally turning away from you.

The moment that you actually step into the club you realise just how busy it really is tonight. There’s the odd cluster of people here and there blocking your path. People that you almost have to fight your way through, as well as the idiots paying no attention and filtering in and out, being stopped by the doormen and bouncers for god only knows what reason.

The music is quite literally pumping, to the point that you can feel the vibrations under your feet. You really need a damn drink right now and the bar is completely packed. You were really happy with your outfit tonight though, choosing it hadn’t been too difficult once you’d found the right dress. It fit your body perfectly, it was black and purple and stopped a little above your knees. Luckily your heels weren’t too high, since you were definitely planning on dancing tonight, preferably without getting blisters.

You sigh defeated, seeing the size of the lines at the bar, as they continue to grow before your eyes.

Until you spot your best friend waving at you from her usual table by the bar. Relief fills you as you get ever closer, where you notice that she’s already gotten a few rounds at the table and of course she couldn’t forgo the shots. That would definitely save you the wait, meaning that you could get this night started right.

“So, I see Mr green eyes is back, he asked about you by the way,” Marie practically shouts into your ear as she pulls you into a hug.

“Yes he is and considering he works here babe, that’s not too strange” you laugh, ignoring her final comment, you pull back to look at her. “Oh and hello to you too by the way” 

“Sorry love I’ll behave. Or I’ll try at least” she winks as you both take your seats. You shake your head at her with a wry smile, unable to stop the scoff falling past your lips. 

“Yeah that’ll be the day, you’re worse than me!” laughing as you clink your shot glasses together, resting a hand over her heart Marie gasps. “Down the hatch, you dork!” you shout over the loud music and that fake hurt dissolves almost immediately making way for her devilish grin beneath.

Your time together is filled with conversations of mutual friends and things you’d both done since last meeting up. Not forgetting the unsuccessful dates you had both been on, Marie can’t help but remark that you’re sexually frustrated. “I dunno what you’re talking about honey, I’m fine. In fact, I’m more than fine. Me and Mr Vibrator have it very much under control” you wink when she snorts with laughter, almost choking on her drink.

“Oh that is not the fucking same Y/N! And you damn well know it!” replying through a laugh while pushing another shot towards you. You roll your eyes but you can’t help but smile at her. You’d really missed this and as usual Marie understood more than she knew. “Nothing like a good hard fucking, which you so clearly need!” 

“I am not fucking some stranger! You know that’s just not me, besides who says some random guy is gonna be any good” you reason as she shrugs at your answer. 

“Doesn’t have to be a complete and total stranger. We both know someone who is just dying to get into those twisted panties of yours. Pretty sure that’s a man who knows his way around a woman” she winks, nodding over to where Mr green eyes is now standing, clearly it was time for a switch around at the club, since he’d come inside with one of his buddies and was chatting about something.

“Would you drop it woman! That man is so far out of my league. So can I please just have a great night out with my girl!” you sigh pushing another shot towards her with a pout.

“Fine. I’ll drop it. But he would be lucky to get in those pants” you roll your eyes but can’t help but smile as you take your next shot, she’d always been the best wing woman going.

The drinks keep flowing, thanks to the hot barman that Marie is currently waving at, he had apparently been trying to hook up with her for a while, but she was adamant they were only friends. It doesn’t take very long for the two of you to have a steady buzz going, after around five shots each and whatever cocktails she’d ordered before you’d got there.

“I wanna dance, come on. Please” your friend pouts at you, grabbing at your hand and dragging you off in the direction of the dance floor, she doesn’t give you time to argue. 

Those puppy dog eyes she gives you tends to always do the trick. Although, if you were being honest you were also in the mood for a dance, to try and get some of the pent up energy out of your system. Keeping your fingers crossed that hopefully you could stop your mind from wandering, back to that sexy green eyed doorman, which thanks to your wing woman was becoming increasingly difficult. 

The music was practically vibrating through your entire body as you and Marie stepped onto the dance floor. Christina Aguilera’s Dirty had just started playing, you glance up and spot Mr green eyes across the room, he was with  another doorman now, the only guy that you were aware of who was actually taller than him. To your surprise he’s looking right at you, his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Marie walks behind you and grabs your hips, pressing herself tight against your back.

“What are you doing woman!” you laugh as she rests her chin on your shoulder, the two of you start to rock to the beat in time with one another, raising your arms in the air as you continue to rock back against her.

“Just go with it! He has not stopped staring at you since we stood up. Not to mention he’s with the tallest man I’ve ever seen and I’ve got the sudden urge to go man climbing” 

You burst out laughing at the serious way she says that, “Want a ride on man mountain huh?” you ask still half laughing as both continue moving to the beat, Marie giggles behind you as the beat speeds up. You’re slowly becoming more distracted as you watch them both move closer, your own hands start moving over your body, keeping your eyes on him the entire time.

You drop down slowly, your ass pressing back into Marie, until you settle back on the heels of your feet, thinking back to a move in the music video for this song. You can feel the muscles of your calves and thighs tense as you lean forward slightly. Slowly sliding your hands down your thighs, stopping at your knees as you part your legs and quickly snap them shut again. Standing slowly, you keep your eyes fixed on Mr. Green eyes, whose fists are currently clenched at his sides. 

You don’t notice the way that his friend is staring at Marie as you push back into her with your ass, both of you laughing as she swats at it playfully and wraps her arms around you from behind. 

However, your happy moods are soon ruined when a drunk group of girls fight to get past you, the one at the front bumps into you and Marie, nearly knocking you both on your asses.

“Watch where you’re going!” she slurs shoving at your shoulders, causing you to stumble back a little unsteady on your heels.

“I’m sorry. What the hell are you talking about? You’re the one who’s clearly drunk off their ass here. You walked into us!” you shout back over the music, resisting the urge to shove her back.

“Get your bitch in line. Nobody talks to my sister like that” one of the other girls squawks, sounding like an angry bird, as they all step closer to the both of you.

“What did you just fucking call her!” Marie snaps, stepping closer to the group. Where she receives a chorus of ‘you heard’ from the group of idiots. “Get your moron sister in line then, if she can’t walk straight she probably shouldn’t be here. She’s clearly had too much and needs to get her childish ass home!” Marie responds irritation lacing her tone as she tries to reason with these people. Just about managing to dodge out of the way just in time to avoid another shove.

“Stop fucking shoving people” you practically growl, finally your control snaps, shoving back as hard as you can, sending one of the girls stumbling back into the group.

“You stupid slut!” the defender shouts, raising her fist. But she’s quickly blocked by a large body and hand that’s twice the size catches her balled up fist.

“I warned you! You’re coming with me, Miss” someone growls to your side, you recognise that voice instantly, you can’t help but grin happily. Not quick enough to move away or turn to look at him properly before he throws you over one of those broad shoulders, causing you to let out an excited scream..

Your eyes search for Marie when you hear her over the music somehow. Finding her in an almost identical position to your own. Once she’s thrown over the giant's shoulder Marie gives you a thumbs up, smacking his ass as he walks away with her. The scenery behind you bumps around, swaying awkwardly as you’re carried through several doors, clinging to the back of his t-shirt for dear life as he walks..

Another door is kicked open, where you feel the cool breeze blow across your almost naked ass.

“So, where are we going Mr. mysterious?” you question, your voice dipping with his every step. 

When suddenly the back door to the club swings closed behind you with a loud bang.

A surprised noise you don’t recognise leaves your lips when he returns your earlier hit. With a harsh slap to your ass. Since apparently your dress had ridden up, it was a little more skin on skin that you’d been expecting. 

You hear him chuckle, right before he tugs the bottom of your dress down and bends over, carefully lowering you until your feet touch the ground again.You look up at him with a smile when his hands grab your hips, making sure that you’re stable on your own. 

Running your hands up his strong chest, your touch remains light, enjoying the way his muscles flex beneath his shirt. It’s really dark out here, with no real light. Only a few neon lights to light the alley way.

“I’m not sure that I approve of you manhandling-” your words are silenced when his plump lips suddenly press against yours, with an urgency you hadn’t expected. 

Your hands fist in his tight t-shirt in an attempt to pull his body closer, while he walks you backwards and presses you into the wall. You feel his tongue brush against your lips when they part, gripping your leg tight he hooks it over his hip, rolling his hips into you. You can feel the bulge through his black pants, pressing against the front of your panties, nudging repeatedly at your clit. The way he feels against you only encourages you to rock back against him.

Your tongues finally meet and you can taste the faint whiskey that lingers there, somehow you knew he’d be a whiskey man. 

Your hands move to fist in his hair, enjoying the feeling of his tongue sliding against yours and the groan that fills the back of his throat, he even manages to pull a small moan slips past your lips.

“Name’s Dean by the way” he breathes against your lips, before pulling you into another breathtaking kiss.

“Y/N. Fuck…. Dean suits you,” you reply in a breathy moan, throwing your head back against the brick wall as he starts kissing down your neck, pausing to suck and nip marks into your skin.

“Wanted to do this for so long. Getting me told off every time you come in sweetheart, can’t damn well concentrate on the job” he groans against your ear, pushing your dress up around your waist so he can grip your ass tight with those big calloused hands.

“Me too, I would say I was sorry, but I don’t wanna lie” you confess with a half-hearted giggle, gasping when his finger brushes against your soaked pussy from behind, briefly dipping under your panties. 

Your hands slip between the two of you. Dean leans back a little, catching on to what you’re doing, allowing you to undo his belt while he pushes a hand between your legs. You whimper when his fingers start to run back and forth over the front of your damn panties.

Once his pants are open you shove them down those gorgeous bow legs as far as you can. Dean lets out a throaty groan when your fingers wrap around his thick hard length. Letting his forehead drop forward against yours when you start to move your hand over him, up and down, feeling the thick muscle throb against your palm.

“You’re so wet baby, can’t wait to feel your pussy wrapped around my cock” Dean whispered huskily against your lips, pushing your panties to the side, he eases two thick fingers inside you. 

Your free hand clings to his bicep, looking into his eyes as your pussy stretches deliciously around his fingers. The perfect drag against your tight walls as he starts moving his fingers inside you, causing goosebumps to rise across your skin.

“Dean, fuck me. Please. I need you inside me” you whine desperately, rolling your hips down into his hand, pushing his fingers deeper. 

Chuckling deep and breathy, Dean curls his fingers teasingly as your thumb swipes across the swollen tip, smearing the thick pre-come down his length. 

Which triggers you both to moan into each other's mouths. 

Pulling your hands away from one another, you reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, as he sucks his slick covered fingers between his plump lips. Transfixed you watch the way his tongue swirls around his fingers and he moans, keeping his darkened green eyes locked on yours. As he pulls them from his mouth with an audible pop.

“You ain’t gotta tell me twice sweetheart” he tells you with a grin and that panty dropping wink.

You can faintly hear the music that’s playing in the club, the bass pounding against your back. The lyrics you manage to hear work so damn well for your current situation and you’re almost convinced that Marie had requested it. 

‘Sometimes you need it so bad, it’s enough to drive a young girl mad.’

You jump when he taps your leg, that bad boy twinkle still very much present in those gorgeous eyes of his. He lifts you easily, slamming you back against the wall. You whimper at the force of it, the rough brick scraping against your back and arms, as you wrap your legs around his waist.

Gripping his cock Dean watches it slip through your slick folds, his own lips parting, pulling breathy moans and whimpers from you. “You want my cock sweetheart? You want it hard, right where anyone could see us?” Dean rasps, fingers digging into your ass as he shifts you slightly. 

“Fuck yes! Please, Dean!” 

Your hands push into the hair at the back of his neck gripping tightly when he finally stops teasing and lines up with your entrance. Catching his bottom lip between your lips you suck gently, before dragging your teeth over it as he slowly enters your welcoming heat. 

Your mouth drops open in a silent scream and you squeeze your eyes shut, finally releasing his lip when he thrusts up into you hard, causing the rough bricks to cut into your back. 

Dean hisses in pain when your fingers dig into his scalp, hair woven between your fingers as you tug. Pulling back he repeats the action, quickly thrusting his hips forward roughly plunging back into your soaking wet pussy.

Picking up a slow steady rhythm, deep and powerful, his teeth tug at the skin along your collarbone, creating a little sting of pain which only adds to the pleasure. Tugging the front of your dress out of the way with the cup of your bra, he keeps those green eyes locked on yours as he sucks your nipple into his mouth, tugging with his plump lips and sharp teeth. Groaning against your skin he swirls that talented tongue around the slowly hardening bud, the snap of his hips pushing your heels into his firm ass.

You’re forced to slap a hand over your mouth when he thrusts particularly hard, to stop yourself from screaming his name, feeling the coil in your stomach beginning to wind and clench as the head of his cock bumps repeatedly against the spot inside you that has you seeing stars. 

There’s the obvious feeling when his lips pull into a smile against your breast, he draws back, dragging those perfect white teeth over the stiff peak. One of his big hands wraps around your wrists and pins them back against the wall as his thrusts begin to speed up.

“Don’t hold it in. Wanna fucking here you screaming for me. I don’t care who hears you begging for my cock” he practically growls, fingers flexing against your ass cheek as the blunt nails dig into your skin.

Your head is swimming with his words, every feeling amplified by the thought of anyone catching you both in the act. “Holy shit you’ve got a dirty mouth, Dean” you pant against his lips, nails digging into your palms. The scratching of the rough brick as it drags against your soft skin, causes you to whimper with every snap of his hips.

“And don’t you just love it, bad girl,” he grunts with an edge of a chuckle, when he feels your pussy starting to flutter around his cock, squeezing and clamping down. Your only answer is filled with nonsensical and incoherent sentences, the only thing that comes out clearly is the chanting of his name, with a mixture of mumbled cussing and pleas. 

Your thighs start to shake as Dean squeezes a hand between the two of you, rough calloused fingers pressing against your clit, hard fast circles as his fingers tighten around your wrists.

“Fuck Dean! Just like that, please!” 

Your head drops back against the wall, only seeing the black night sky and stars, which starts to mix with the neon lights as the feeling overwhelms you. Your orgasm hits you hard, rocketing through your every nerve ending like lightning, but Dean doesn’t stop thrusting. 

“Son of bitch! Should have done this ages ago. So damn perfect Y/N. Gonna fucking fill you up sweetheart”

Clenching his jaw Dean presses his face into your neck, his hot breath against your skin. 

The hand that’s gripping your wrists drops, resting against the wall as he bucks into your pussy at an uncontrollable pace, your slick soaking his thighs. 

The vibrations of his every growl and moan, mixed with the pounding of his hips. Only serving to prolong your orgasm, so much so that you’re forced into another mind blowing climax, pushing Dean into his own release right behind you. You feel his orgasm hit, causing his thighs to shake under your ass. 

A huff of air is released from your lungs when Dean practically collapses on top of you, leaning on his hand as much as possible.

You quickly feel his weight shift as he pulls his chest away from yours slightly, you feel him smile against your lips when he presses a kiss to them. You can’t help but whimper at the loss and sensitivity when he pulls his hips back, his softening cock slipping from inside you. 

“Did I miss something? What’s so funny. Mr green eyes?” you smile back, still breathing a little heavily as he helps you rearrange your dress and pulls up his black pants and boxers. 

Shrugging he turns to look over his shoulder, following his line of sight your heart almost jumps out of your chest. There’s a security camera sitting just under the guttering, red light blinking away undisturbed.

“I guess for someone in security I probably should’ve remembered that was there, huh?” he laughs still out of breath, scratching at the back of his neck. 

“You think!?” you exclaim doing your best to sound annoyed, until the laughter starts to bubble up in your throat. “Get your ass in there and get that video!” you playfully scold him, making sure to smack that tight little ass.

“You want me to wipe it from the record?” he asks with a smirk and that bad boy twinkle in his eyes.

Biting your lip you shake your head, “Just do what you need to. Get it and let's go” 

“You’re a bad influence on me sweetheart” the wink he throws your way says otherwise.

“I might have believed that, if you hadn’t just fucked my brains out, in the alley against the building where you work” you laugh gently pushing him towards the back door you’d both left through earlier.

“Touche” Dean chuckles, grabbing your hand and tugging you inside. 

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[louiseleblancdiggory]

hey, once in twitter we talk about how much we love Castle, so i was thinking if you could write a rowaelin scene based on caskett ♥️

OI GIO!!!!!! Ok so I had so much fun writing this. I decided to start from the very beginning so everyone (even those who didn’t watch it) know what’s going on. If you never watched Castle, you MUST!!! Also, fyi, the warnings are NOT about Ro or Aelin, they are absolutely fine in here. No sad shit, I promise

Warnings: mentions of graphic death

Gone death

--

Aelin winked at the red headed man in front of her, a grin plastered on her lips.

She handed him back the book, waving off his thank you as he scrunched away to enjoy the rest of the party. She looked around, half paying attention to the hundreds of people who had come to the release of her latest book.

Since Aelin was a seven, she had had a deep fascination with mystery and horror. Thankfully, she was also a fucking amazing writer, which allowed her to transform that fascination into her job. Now, twenty six years later, Aelin was the bestseller author of several stand alone as well as a series of eight books, all of them following the same two main characters while they investigated a series of gruesome murders. She had loved the series, had started writing them at fifteen and published the first one at twenty five. She thought she could write about Sam and Lyria forever.

Until she realized she couldn’t.

Aelin felt a hand gripping her elbow, and had to hold in her sigh as she turned around to stare at her ex husband.

One of Aelin’s biggest regrets in life was marrying so early. Chaol had been her college boyfriend, and they got married few months after they started dating. Looking back now, Aelin could see how stupid she had been, but it had seemed like a good idea at the time. They got a divorce less than a year later, and Aelin would have been happy in never looking at him again. Unfortunately, he worked with her publishing team, and if she added that to their past together, she could almost understand why Chaol always felt so entitled to know and control everything in her life.

It was fucking distressing and annoying.

“If it’s not my money sucking ex husband. What did I do this time?”

He had a fake smile on his lips, looking at her as if he didn’t dislike her. “You killed your golden goose, Galathynius. You fucking killed your main characters.”

Aelin shrugged, taking a sip of her white wine. “It was time.” She started walking away, and had to hide her scowl when she realized Chaol was following her.

Some people couldn’t get the fucking hint, could they?

“Why would you do that? Sam and Lyria were making you filthy rich, and everyone loved them.”

“They got boring, that’s why.” Aelin stopped in her tracks, turning back to Chaol. She crossed her arms, raising her chin. “Writing The Guild used to be fun, used to be exciting. Writing Sam used to be interesting, but since the seventh book it has just been work. I don’t write for money, Chaol. I write because I love it. When I stopped loving it, I decided it was time to move on from them.”

“Wow, and God forbid you ever have to actually work like an adult, right?”

“It. Was. Time. Besides, Sam and Lyria are not the golden goose, I am.”

She said the words loud and clear, ignoring the frown on his face. Aelin always knew that Chaol saw her writing more as a job than as a passion, and it pissed her off endlessly. She turned around again, walking to the bar where her cousin and son were sitting. Her heels clinked against the marble floor, and the sound was almost loud enough to hide the fact that Chaol was following her. Again.

She sighed loudly as he began speaking. “You could have made them retire, could have made them get married and leave the force. Hell, you could have made them join the goddamn circus. But no, Aelin Galathynius must be dramatic and put two bullets on her main characters’ heads.” When she ignored him, he just kept talking. “What the hell are you going to do now, Aelin? You permanently ended The Guild with your stupidity, and we both know you don’t have any other ideas.”

At that, Aelin spun on her heels, clenching her fists to stop herself from physically attacking Chaol. The photographers would love seeing her getting into a brawl, and most of the rest of the party would probably find it immensely entertaining. Lysandra, however, wouldn’t find it so amusing. Her PR and best friend loved some mischief, but she also worked hard enough to make sure Aelin’s public image was a good one, so Aelin wouldn’t mess that up by fighting her ex.

“Who says that?”

Chaol snorted. “The nine week delay to publish the eighth book should be indication enough.”

“Can’t rush talent.” Aelin said, a nasty smile on her lips.

“I won’t say you’re not talented, Aelin, but you are out of ideas. You weren’t bored, you had a writer’s block and freaked out.” Chaol said, oblivious to Aelin’s rising temper. He looked at her, giving an infuriating shrug. “You have a month to hand me the new idea. A full and useable idea. The first manuscript, preferably. You’re famous, write any shit and people will eat it up.”

“Fuck off.” Aelin said through clenched teeth.

Chaol merely smiled as he walked away. “A month, Aelin.”

Aelin wanted to go after him and smack his face against one of the piles of books in the room. Fortunately for him, Aelin was stopped by several people who wanted her autograph in the newest and last book of The Guild. It probably took her an hour to get through everyone— talking and giving every single person her full attention— until she finally managed to make her way to the bar.

She spotted Aedion’s head first, his broad figure standing up against the bar and talking to a pitch-black haired boy, Nino, sitting down near him.

“Who does homework at a party?” She heard Aedion asking.

“I have a test next week.”

“So do I. It’s called dealing with your mom while she contemplates hitting her head against a wall to force an idea to come out.”

Nino laughed, looking at his uncle. “She’ll come up with something, she always does.”

Aelin smiled at her son, his words warming her. She had had Nino extremely young— had only been seventeen at the time— and he became her friend along with being her son. She approached her cousin from behind, listening to him ask for a glass of champagne.

“Make that two, please.” Aelin said and Aedion’s eyes immediately snapped to her as she approached the boy sitting down and passed an arm through his shoulders. She kissed him on the cheek. “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hey, mom.”

Aedion grinned, raising his glass and gesturing around. “Built yourself an empire, Aeae.”

Aelin smiled in return, winking at her cousin. “Always said I would. But tell me, Aedion…”

“Uh-oh.” The boy Aelin was half hugging said, a humorous smirk on his face. “Someone’s in trouble.”

“Cut it, genius.” Aedion snapped, narrowing his eyes at the boy. “What’s up, Ae?”

“Did you tell Chaol I was having trouble writing?” Aelin smiled sweetly, even though she wanted to strangle her cousin right now. The look on his face was enough to give her the answer.

“I told him nothing of the sort.” Aedion replied quickly, defending himself. Aelin only raised an eyebrow at him. “Ok, I— I might have let slip that for the past nine weeks you have been walking around the apartment with either a cup of coffee or a bottle of wine while you curse the Gods for lack of creativity.”

“I am going to kill you.” Aelin said, a smile still plastered on her face as she noticed some cameras pointed at her. It was always like this whenever she went out with Nino.

“Ae, that’s ok. You’re an artist, that sort of thing is expected.”

“I can’t believe it, Aedion! The deal for you to live with us was plain and simple.”

“No meddling on her work.” Nino reminded Aedion, the boy looking immensely pleased at his uncle’s doom. “And no Chaol.”

“You know how things are with Chaol. No. Talking. About. My. Work.“ Aelin said, temper rising once more.

“What is there to talk about anyways?”

“Uncle!” Nino said exasperatedly.

“Whatever there is or isn’t to talk about,” Aelin was saying, jaw clenched. “I would appreciate if you didn’t share it with my ex husband.”

“Oh, I think I hear Lysandra calling me.” Aedion interrupted, absolutely ignoring Aelin. She narrowed her eyes, knowing damn well that Lysandra would never be calling Aedion judging by the brunette’s deep dislike of her best friend’s cousin. Aelin tried to stop him, but he just started walking away faster, shouting that they could talk at home.

It was just a fancy way of saying they wouldn’t discuss at all.

She turned around, looking at Nino. He had a smirk on his face as he looked down his physics book, a pen on his left hand.

“You should have stopped me.” Aelin grumbled.

“Letting uncle Aed move in?” Nino asked, looking up at his mom. “Nah, I think it’s sweet. Besides, I like him.”

Aelin only grumbled more, taking the two glasses the barista had put in front of her. She smiled in thanks, holding one of the glasses and placing the other in front of Nino. He smiled humorously, raising an eyebrow. “You know I’m only sixteen, right?”

“You’re an old soul.”

“Well me and my old soul can wait until I’m twenty-one.”

Aelin smiled at her son, all anger and tightness leaving her body. Nino had always been her steadying rock, since he was a baby his presence had always been enough to calm her down. Differently from her, however, Nino was extremely serious and responsible, always following the rules, studying and making sure everything was right.

Most times Aelin found it immensely funny to see how different from her he had turned out.

“When I was your age—“ She was saying, a grin on her face. She immediately stopped, frowning. “Can’t tell you that story. Too inappropriate for your innocent ears.”

Nino snickered, pushing the champagne glass away.

“Don’t laugh, boy, this is exactly my point. Don’t you want to have wild, law-breaking, inappropriate stories that you can’t tell your kids one day?” She rested her elbows at the counter, a smile on her lips.

“You’ve lived enough of those for both of us now, mom.”

Aelin snorted, taking a sip of her champagne. “You’re studying physics at a party. At your age I would have been drinking.”

“No, you wouldn’t. You were pregnant.” Nino said slowly, a winning smirk at his face.

“Damn it.” Aelin muttered, earning a laugh from Nino. Despite her crazy stories, Nino knew very well how responsible she had been during her pregnancy with him. Nino, since before birth, had been the one thing capable of making her act like a serious adult. “You want to know why I killed Sam and Lyria?”

Nino raised his brows at the change in the topic, but nodded just the same.

“Because life should be an adventure, sweetheart. It should be full of unexpected turns and plot twists. It should be full of funny stories, embarrassing stories, inappropriate stories.” Her smile became soft, and she grabbed one of his hands. “I had to kill them because it wasn’t an adventure anymore, it wasn’t surprising. I knew exactly where they would always go, what they would always do. If my own characters weren’t surprising me, how could I hope they would surprise anyone else?”

“Mom…”

“I’m not telling you to be like I was when I was younger, it’s definitely not your type. I just want to make sure that you know you can make mistakes every now and then. That I don’t expect you to be like me, but I also don’t expect you to be perfect.”

He matched her soft smile, squeezing her hand slightly. “I know, mom.”

“Good.” She straightened, taking her champagne glass and looking around. “You know what else is boring? These parties. After having sixteen of these, the seventeenth seems rather dull.”

Nino rolled his eyes. “Yeah, people praising you seems awfully boring, mom.”

Aelin grinned, resting her hips against the counter as she turned fully to him. “It’s always the same thing. ‘Oh my god, I’m such a big fan’, or maybe the ‘Where’d you get your ideas?’.

“Let’s not forget the fully adult men asking you to sign their chest.” Nino’s face crumbled in disgust.

Aelin laughed out loud, drinking from her glass. “I don’t mind that one very much.”

“Well, I do, if you’re interested in knowing.”

She snorted, putting the now empty glass down. “I don’t know, Nino. I just wanted for someone to surprise me once. I want something new to give me inspiration, to be my new muse. For the past eight years I have been hearing the same thing over and over again. I just want someone to catch me by surprise, to say something so shocking I won’t have a reaction, so surprising that I will—“

“Ms. Galathynius.” She was interrupted by a brisk tap on her shoulder. Nino raised his eyebrows at the person standing behind her, trying to get her attention in such impolite manner.

She forced a polite smile on her face, taking a pen from her bra. She turned around, raising the pen. “Where do I sign?”

A broad shouldered man was now standing in front of her, and even in heels Aelin had to tip her head back to stare at him. His arms her hanging by his side, his clothes extremely casual for him to be part of the party. His white button down and leather jacket hugged his arms and torso, and if his face wasn���t so enthralling, Aelin would probably have had a hard time not staring at the rest of him.

His features looked somewhat tense. His hair— probably blond, but looked so light that it could only be described as silver— a mess, almost as if he had ran his hands too many times through it. There was a crease between his eyebrows, and his pine green eyes were stuck on her face with such intensity that Aelin felt her face heating.

“Detective Whitethorn, OPD.” He said, voice grave and words rolling out of his tongue with a lovely Scottish accent. “I’m here to ask you a few questions about a murder that took place earlier tonight.”

Aelin registered his words, but didn’t have any reaction. She just stared at the man, her eyes looking quickly at the Orynth Police Department badge he was holding.

Nino laughed quietly, reaching over his mom to take the pen out of her hand. “Well, this is new.”

Only then she turned slightly to her son, a scowl at her face. “No shit, Sherlock.”

—----- 

Aelin had always written about this, but she never thought that she would herself be like one of the characters from her story.

Honestly, she wasn’t nervous at all, just curious.

Hundreds of people had seen her all afternoon and night at the party, and she knew that she hadn’t killed anybody, so fear was off the table. Now, why the police thought she had any knowledge about the crime at all was what made her so damn curious.

Upon arriving at the precinct, detective Whitethorn had left her at the care of two identical men. Both had the exact same face, but where one seemed to radiate light, the other one seemed to suck it. As they took her to wait in the interrogation room, she thought that they would make great main characters.

“Whitethorn will be back shortly, ma’am.” The serious twin said, walking out of the room as she sat down. The other twin, however, lingered.

He was staring at her, his head cocked to the side just like a wolf seizing his prey. Aelin stared right back, raising one eyebrow at him. Despite knowing she hadn’t killed anybody, something inside of her was tensing at his staring. Did they think that her involvement with the murder was more serious than she had initially thought?

“You killed your main characters.” He said, and the air rushed out of Aelin’s lungs. She scowled, suddenly pissed that he had made her so tense and it was actually just about a goddamn book.

“Yep. Bullet right through the head.” She made a finger gun and put it against her forehead. “Disappointed?”

He shrugged, resting against the threshold. “It was brilliant, but I adored Sam and Lyria. After eight years following the series, seeing your favorite characters being killed makes you want to kill the author.”

Aelin smiled when he winked at her. “Pardon. If it makes you feel better, I have already been scolded by my ex husband. Said it would have been better if I had just made Sam and Lyria join the circus.”

“Sam would have been a shit clown.”

Aelin nodded. “You’re right. Should have told that to my ex.”

The detective laughed, but was immediately interrupted when Whitethorn’s voice sounded from behind him. “Fenrys.”

“Sorry, Rowan.” Fenrys grimaced exaggeratedly, and Aelin grinned. “See you later, blondie.”

Aelin just nodded, her eyes immediately on Whitethorn when his figure approached the door.

“Ms. Galathynius.”

“Detective Whitethorn.” She eyed the manila folders he was holding. Some papers and photos were sticking out, but Aelin couldn’t really tell what they were.

He sat in front of her after closing the door, opening one of the folders. His eyebrows rose as he read, and he eyed Aelin quickly before sighing and putting the open folder at the table. “You have quite the history with the law for a best selling author, Ms. Galathynius. Public disturbance, disorderly conduct, resisting arrest…”

Aelin shrugged, a small smile on her lips. “Living all your adventures through paper seem a little too nerdish for me.”

Detective Whitethorn rested his forearms on the table, inclining himself forward. Aelin did the same, and his eyes narrowed at her.

“You stole a police horse once.”

“Borrowed.” Her smile widened. Detective Whitethorn, on the other hand, didn’t seem to find it funny in the slightest.

“And you were,” he looked down at the folder before looking at her again. “Nude.”

Aelin shrugged once more. “It was springtime.”

“And every time the charges were dropped.” He drew back, resting against his chair. “Care to explain?”

“The mayor enjoys reading The Guild.” Aelin sighed dramatically, propping on her elbows and resting her face against her hand. “You know how people love to bond over mutual interests. And he loves my son, there’s that too. But that’s besides the point.”

“Oh, is it?” For the first time, the detective seemed entertained.

“Yes. I don’t think you’re here to talk about my college prank of a decade ago, detective.” She half smiled. “So why don’t you make your murder questions so I can go home and convince my son to stop studying so his eyes won’t fall out?”

“Ms. Galathynius.” He said, smirking at her. Aelin didn’t think it was a good smirk, though. “I fully believe that the cocky, irreverent, hot girl slash genius act makes people eat out of the palm of your hand in your glamorous world, but I work for a living, so why don’t you cut the bullshit because in my world, you can be only two things.”

“You think I’m hot, detective?”

Whitethorn’s smirk didn’t waver. “You can be the person who makes my life easier and goes home quickly, or the person who makes my life harder and stays handcuffed here until you decide to be the first option.”

“I could make so many inappropriate jokes right now, you have no idea.” Aelin said, and she could swear his smirk turned more playful. She smirked back, crossing her arms. “I supposed I shouldn’t want to be the one making your life harder.”

He didn’t answer, just let go of the manila folder containing her information and opened the other one. He took out the picture of a brunette woman. Dark hair, brown skin and big black eyes, the girl couldn’t be older than twenty five.

Aelin grabbed the picture, analyzing it. “Hum, pretty.”

“And dead.”

“Gods, you don’t beat around the bush, do you?”

He didn’t reply, just took another picture out. This time it was a man, probably at the same age, but instead of bright and soft features the girl possessed, his skin was pale and blue eyes glassy.

“Recognize them?”

Aelin shook her head. “No. Maybe. I don’t know.” She sighed, letting go of the pictures. “I’ve been to dozens of signings, events and parties, detective Whitethorn. I can’t possibly recall every face.”

“Not what I meant. Do you recognize their features?” He asked, tapping the pictures.

Aelin looked back down once more, looking at those faces until something hit her fully. “Sam and Lyria. They look like my characters Sam and Lyria.”

Detective Whitethorn seemed satisfied with her answer, because he took other two pictures and placed in front of her. One of them showed the girl, her body dressed in a series of white cloths, wild flowers surrounding her whole body. Where her eyes should be, two big daisies laid, and looking more carefully, Aelin could also see daisies stuffed in her mouth and nostrils.

The other picture showed the boy, his body laying inside a casket, instead of white cloths hugging his body, his were blood red. The floor around the casket showed a series of markings drawn in white chalk.

“Holy fuck.” She breathed.

Detective Whitethorn was eyeing her carefully. “Her name was Mandy, his was Felix. He was found dead two weeks ago, but we only made the connection after we found her today. The deaths look exactly like the ones described in chapter six and twenty two of your book Gone Death.”

“A fan?” Aelin asked, a humorous smile on her lips.

“Yes, a really deranged fan.”

“Oh, you don’t seem deranged.”

He looked up from the pictures, frowning. “I’m sorry?”

“Detective Whitethorn, I am a best selling author and yet I can count on my fingers the amount of people who even know that Gone Death exists.” She smiled when he rolled his eyes. “It’s ok, I always thought it was a terribly underrated book. Only hardcore groupies ever read that one, though.”

He cleared his throat. “Do you enjoy constantly praising yourself, ma’am?”

“Oh, you have no idea, sir.”

He snorted, crossing his arms. “Does any of these groupies ever write you fan mail?” She just stared at him blankly. “Disturbing ones.”

Aelin shuddered, and this time it wasn’t for show. “Oh, try being a murder mystery writer. Every fan mail I receive is disturbing. It’s an occupational hazard.”

“It’s because sometimes, in cases like this, we find that—“

“The killer attempts to contact the image of his obsession, yes.” Aelin completed his sentence, earning a questioning look back.

She looked back at him, and curiosity beyond this case sparkled inside of her. She could feel an idea brewing, and the more he talked, the more interesting he got.

“I write murders for a living. I’m well versed in psychopathic methodologies and the process of murder. Another occupational hazard, I guess.” She inclined herself forward. “And has anyone ever said you have pretty eyes?”

He stared at her, mouth open as if he wanted to say something but didn’t know what. He finally rolled his eyes, pulling the pictures back to him. “And so I assume you won’t have any problems with us going over you mail, Ms. Galathynius.”

“Be my guest. I have thrown some out, however.” When he looked at her, she just shrugged. “My son lives in that house, detective. And as much as I’m not a strict mom in the slightest, there are things I will not allow my son to be near. Middle aged man sending naked pictures and blood vials is one example.”

He nodded, getting up. Aelin looked up at him, jerking her chin in the direction of the manila folders.

“Can I get a copy of that?”

“A copy?” He asked dumbfounded.

“Yeah. I have poker night with other best selling authors and you have no idea how jealous this would make them.”

He hesitated for a moment before slowly asking. “Jealous?”

“In my world, detective, having a copycat is like wining the fucking Nobel.” She said, half surprised at the complete incredulity on his face. “So?”

He threw the folders at the table, placing his hands down and bringing his face inches away from hers. “People are dying, Ms. Galathynius.”

“I’m not asking for the bodies.”

He rolled his eyes, drawing back. He took the folders from the table, walking to the door. “I think we’re done here.”

Aelin stared at his back, seeing him leave the room. Once he was out of sight, she took her phone out, looking through her contacts until she found the one.

“Good night, Rolfe.” She greeted the current mayor of Orynth. “You have a direct say in the OPD business, don’t you? Because as you know, The Guild just ended but…”

Aelin looked at the door once more, and even though he wasn’t there, she smiled.

“…but I think I just found my new inspiration for a new series.”

Tags:

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @abookishfreak @faerie-queen-fireheart @maastrash @morganofthewildfire @queen-of-glass @jlinez @courtofjurdan @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ladywitchling @lexflame @sleeping-and-books @annejulianneh111 @perseusannabeth @linshryver @mu-si-ca-l @camilamartinezdunne @dank-queen7 @minaidss @starborn-faerie-queen @booksofthemoon @loveofbooksandwine @jesstargaryenqueen @bluejaberry @yesdreamblog @multifandommessblog @heirofthenightcourt

[brelione]

Secret (Rafe X Reader)

Warnings:Literal fucking trash.Please dont torture youself by reading this :)

Can you do 3 from the prompt list with Rafe please where their parents basically forbid their relationship for whatever reason and forced them to break up even though they were good for one another and Rafe was slowly becoming a better person?

Rafe always knew he should keep his relationship with you secret.He knew that it was something too precious and too lovely to let anyone else know.He knew that his father wasnt accepting of people like you.Pogues.You were a pogue,you lived on The Cut and worked two jobs just to stay on your feet.

He didnt know he could love a pogue or anyone as much as he loved you.He couldnt really recall exactly what got you two together,it had been the work of fate.You were out for a surf while he was out for a smoke and your worlds just collided.He had seen you wipe out,only to come up to the surface a few feet away from him.You pulled your board from the water,standing up and smearing the blood from your leg.

 “That had to have hurt.”He commented.You shrugged,walking to your towel that laid on the sand,pressing it to the wound.He had somehow ended up sitting next to you,sharing his joint to ‘help with the pain’.That one night led to him sneaking out of his house to meet you at the beach where you taught him to surf,meeting him in the mornings to show him baby crabs.

One of his favorite things about you was how you carried a pencil pouch of pens everywhere you went,drawing all over your arms and legs.Eventually you had convinced him to let you draw on him,drawing a giraffe on his wrist.He had fallen in love with it and with you.Every Time you saw him and the doodle had faded he’d ask you to redo it.It was just a reminder of your love.It was nice until his father decided to call him out on it.

“Did you realy get a fucking tattoo?”He had walked into the garage as Rafe was lifting weights,seeing the sharpie doodle. “No.”Rafe answered,putting down the weights and grabbing his towel to wipe the sweat from his forehead.Ward seemed unconvinced,a grumpy expression on his face. “What is it then?”He asked.Rfe hesitated before answering,knowing what would come next. “A drawing.”He answered.

 “You cant draw shit.Who drew it?”he asked.Rafe sighed,pulling on a tshirt. “A friend.”He answered. “What friend?”Ward pushed,being a stubborn bitch as always. “You dont know her.”Rafe answered,attempting to walk past Ward when the mans hand wrapped around his wrist,strong enough to cut off his circulation. “Her?Who,Rafe?GIve me names.”Ward spoke,his voice seeming threatening. “No.”Rafe answered,flinching when Ward’s gripped tightened. 

“Why?What are you hiding?”Ward asked.Rafe let out a shaky breath,looking away from his father and contemplating whether or not to tell him the truth. “Her….her name is (Y/N).”Rafe answered,cringing at his words.Ward let go only a little,still holding tight but not so tight that his hand was purple.Rafe could feel his blood beginning to circulate again,his fingers no longer feeling cold. 

“(Y/N)?(Y/N) who?What’s her last name?”Ward asked.Rafe gulped,his heart thumping in his chest. “(Y/L/N).You dont know her.”Rafe answered,tugging his arm away and going inside the house,Ward close on his heels. “I know enough about her to know that shes trouble.I know that she ripped up one of my nets,stay away from her.Shes broke trash.”Ward spoke,voice dripping in hatred.

Rafe turned around,fury evident on his face. “She ripped up one of your nets cause you were killing fucking dolphins-shes a fucking sweetheart and she works for every single penny shes ever fucking made.”He was close to yelling,unaware of Sarah sitting on the couch and watching the fight.Ward scoffed. “Oh,please.She’s using you for my money and you’re too ignorant to see it.”Ward rolled his eyes. 

“She hasnt used a single dollar of mine!She’s never asked for money or anything you fucking asshole!She loves me for me,not for your money you selfish bastard!”Rafe shouted,his face becoming red.Ward seemed shock,not thinking abour it before his palm colided with the side of his sons face.Sarah let out a loud gasp,Rafe’s eyes widening before he ran outside and got in his truck,immediately speeding out and going to your house.

You were still asleep when Rafe came through your door,tears in his eyes.His face softened when he saw your sleeping figure on the couch,an old disney movie playing on your tv.

He kneeled down in front of you,watching as your eyes opened. “Rafe?”You asked.A smile came across his face,leaning down to kiss your forehead.You grumbled,sitting up. “What time is it?”You asked.He shrugged,kissing your lips gently. “What’s up with you?You seem sad.”You pouted,holding his t shirt and pulling him so hed sit next to you. “Im fine.”He answered,knowing he was screwed when your tongue scraped against your teeth.

Thats how he knew that you could pretty much read his mind. “You’re upset about something and your arm is bruised.Did you get into a fight?”You asked,shifting so you were straddling him and he had no other option but to look at you. “I got into a fight with my dad,its fine though.”He answered,moving up slightly to kiss you but you backed out. “Rafe,did he hurt you?”You asked.

He sighed,his hands trailing under your oversized t shirt-his t shirt-to rub circles on the warm skin. “Yeah,yeah he did.”He admitted,watching the way your jaw dropped slightly.You wrapped your arms around him,his head tucking under your chin as tears started to roll down his cheeks. “Rafe,baby,what was the fight about?”You asked.He gulped,a salty tear falling into his mouth.

 “I-I told him about you and he got mad and-and I called him a bastard so he slapped me.”He let out a sob,his grip on you tightening.You huffed,twirling his hair in your fingers. “So this was my fault?”You asked.He shook his head,still holding you close to him. “No,of course not.Its his fault.”He answered.He cupped your face,kissing you lightly. “Can I stay here for a while?”He asked.

Most of the day was spent with him cuddling with you,holding you close and placing kisses all over you.You both fell asleep on your couch,waking up to loud pounding on your door.Rafe placed an arm over you,telling you to stay put.His heart was beating loudly,his hand shaking.The color drained from his face when he saw Ward at the door.It was too late to turn around,the older man had already seen him. “Get out here and come home.”The man demanded.You came out to the kitchen,a frown on your face.Rafe cursed when he saw you,telling you to go back into the living room. 

“I’ll see you later today,okay?”He asked before walking out the door,Wrd immediately grabbing onto his arm.You were too shocked to do anything,standing there speechless.You had tried calling and texting him but they wouldnt send.He had blocked you.You tried messaging Sarah through instagram but that didnt work either.

You didnt even know what to do,resorting to crying on your couch.You found Rafe’s keys on your kitchen table a few days later,getting into his truck and driving to his house in the middle of the night.You had been quiet as possible,climbing up the side of his house and onto his balcony because of course he had a balcony.You could never understand why it was there or what it was for but you were thankful that it was here now.

You could see him on his bed,his back turned away from you.You knocked on the door,seeing it was locked.You could see him tense up,standing up and smiling wide when he saw you.He ran across the room,tapping on the glass. “He locked it,I dont have the key.”He told you,his voice quiet because of the glass separating you.You sighed,tapping along the glass before you got an idea,taking his truck keys and attempting to push them into the key hole of the door.

It was no luck and at this point you could see the desperation on Rafe’s face.You pulled off the keychain,twisting at the circle so one of the sides would stick out.His eyebrows furrowed,biting his lip anxiously as you twisted the metal in the keyhole,trying to get the door to open.You heard a click,he let out a small gasp before practically ripping the door open,pulling you too him. “He shut down my phone and locked me in here.”He spoke softly,his hands tight around you.

When you were about to suggest that he come with you his bedroom door unlocked,Ward staring at the two of you with pure anger on his face. “Get out of my house before I call the cops.”He spoke to you,his hand around his phone.Rafe shook his head,holding you tighter. “Dad-you cant keep me locked in here forever.”Rafe answered,feeling the way your hands were shaking around him. “You broke into my house and youre manipulating and abusing my son.Not only that but you vandalized and destroyed my property,you’re lucky I havent gotten you thrown into prison yet.”Ward’s eyes stayed on you.

Rafe scoffed,letting go of you and approaching his father. “Shes manipulative and abusive?Look at you!You slapped me and you’ve locked me in my room!”He shouted,probably waking up his sisters.Ward’s eyes widened. “Its for your own good!She’ll use you and then break you!”Ward exclaimed. “What?”Like mom did to you?”Rafe yelled,his fists clenching.

That had been nearly five months ago.A lot had changed since then.You had grown as a person,becoming friends with JJ,Pope,Kiara and John.B.Rafe had gone back to the way he was before he met you,a drug addict who doubled as a fucking bitch.You still missed him though,hoping that he was at least doing better since the last time you saw him.The Pogues couldnt believe that you had once been in a relationship with him no matter how hard you tried to convince them that he was different with you.They didnt believe you of course,they knew Rafe,not Rafe Alexander Cameron.

You had started to forget about him,the feelings he made you feel and all the memories you had with the boy.Then you saw him at the beach and everything just came back.The feelings,the memories,the feeling in your stomach.He glanced in your direction,eyes widening as he did a double take.He literally ran to you,a confused expression on his face. “(Y/N)-fuck,shit.Dad told me that he got you in prison-what the fuck?”He hugged you,spinning you around.

 “Oh,wow.Nice to know you still think of me.”You giggled,looking up at the tall boy.He smiled. “All the time.”He answered,squeezing your waist. “So how have you been?I havent seen you in like...ten years.”You grinned.He shrugged,biting his lip. “You know,the same old.I tried to remember your number,dad took my old phone and gave me a whole new number.What are you doing?”He asked,looking around the beach. “Um...you know,vibing.”You shrugged.He nodded,sitting down in the sand with you,his hand holding yours. “I um….I made some new friends.”You spoke quietly,not knowing what his reaction would be.He grinned,licking his lips. 

“Yeah?Does that mean you’re crushing on one of them?”He asked.You shook your head,rubbing circles on his hand. “No,its a nice change in things though I guess.I missed you.”You mumbled.He smiled,leaning forward and kissing you gently. “I missed you too,you still love me?”He asked,making you smile. “Always.”You answered,kissing the tip of his nose. “It sucks that we gotta start the whole secret relationship thing again.I wont fuck it up this time,though.I promise.”You rested your head in the crook of his neck as he spoke,kissing his collarbone lightly.

@sexytholland @28cnn  @popcrone818 @fttayla @cherryobx @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @drewstarkeyobx @poguestyleskye @judayyyw @jjtheangel @outerbongs

@sunwardsss @meaganjm @httpstarkey @copper-boom​ 

[ilovefandoms102]

Love me Harder-Part 4

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Summary: Falling in love with your sisters sworn enemy probably wasn’t the best idea…

Note: Tik Tok challenge requests are still open for whoever wants to submit one! I will be doing them throughout the day! I hope you guys enjoy this! Let me know what you think!

Part 3 Part 5

=========================================

Rafe and I became exclusive after that night on the beach…

It was weird at first being so open despite the odd looks from people. I tried not to think about it too much despite the comments and stares. I was going to enjoy my time with Rafe. 

This led to one of my rare days off, my legs perched on the dash of Rafe’s golf cart. My eyes trained on his muscles working as he played on the Figure Eight golf course. I squirmed in my seat a little from the way his muscles flexed, his hat perched on his head backwards adding to the desire pooling in my belly. We hadn’t moved past the heavy make outs with occasional groping, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t ready for more. 

My experience with men wasn’t bad but it also wasn’t great. I’ve had my few shares of casual hook ups, boyfriends that didn’t last longer than a few months before the feelings died out, but Rafe was different. Maybe it was the fact that we had both wanted each other for so long, the tension bursting between us now that we could freely be seen with the other. 

“What are you thinking about so hard over there beautiful?” Rafe asked, startling me from my thoughts. 

“How good your ass looks in those shorts.” I smirked, earning a deep blush from my boyfriend. 

He sauntered over to me, swinging his club around to hold it behind his neck. Rafe leaned his head down to touch his nose to mine, sweetly pecking my lips before he pulled away. I moved my hands to feel the slight stubble forming on his cheeks, he let go of the golf club, and let it fall to the ground. In the next instance, he had my legs around his waist. Rafe leaned in to crush his lips to mine, leaning me back at an angle. I forgot where we were, and that people were literally all around us. My only focus was how good his soft lips felt against mine. I bit his bottom lip, gently tugging it back. He groaned, his fingers digging into my hips. 

“Come on guys, this is a family golf course.” Someone called, my head snapping to see Topper making his way over. Rafe flipped him off as my cheeks burned with embarrassment. 

=========================================

I very quickly became uninterested in being at Figure Eight now that Topper decided to interrupt mine and Rafe’s hot make out. He stayed with Rafe to play a round between them which annoyed me even more. I didn’t get a lot of days off, so my mood was pretty much ruined. I saw Pope walking by, carrying some groceries for someone. I was going to jump up and help when Topper decided to make his way to him. 

“Well, well look who we have here.” Topper hollered, my feet instantly taking off towards Pope. Rafe had yet to notice either of us were gone. 

“Can we please give it a rest today, unless you want to deliver your own groceries.” Pope spat, dodging Topper’s reaches for the beer he was carrying. 

“Knock it off Topper, your tea time isn’t up yet.” I growled, stepping in front of Pope. 

“Leave this to the men y/n,” Topper hissed, shoving me to the side as he attacked Pope. 

I went into flight or fight mode, jumping on Topper’s back as he railed his fists down on Pope. I punched Topper’s nose, giving Pope enough time to wiggle his way out from under Topper. He reached back and pulled my hair, a scream leaving my lips from the burn. I tumbled down, scraping my arms and legs against the gravel. Topper grabbed his club, and swung at Pope. I was horrified as blood spewed from Pope’s lips. 

“RAFE!” I screeched, hoping to grab his attention. 

I didn’t look to see if he had heard me, jumping to my feet to run towards Pope and Topper. In a split second decision, I jumped in front of Pope, and took Topper’s swing. Agonizing pain tore through my body, a sickening crack heard as the head of the club connected to my ribs. Topper’s eyes widened, dropping his club immediately. I whimpered on the ground, keeping my eyes closed as I sobbed in pain. 

“Y/n!” Pope shouted, crouching down to me. 

“Go, run.” I whispered, giving him a reassuring nod as he took off. 

“What the fuck just happened?!” Rafe boomed, but I couldn’t focus on his words. White noise rang in my ears, my heart still thudding in my chest from the adrenaline. I snapped out of it when I felt a hand, Rafe’s hand, pushing some hair from my face. 

“Sweetheart, can you hear me?” he asked.

“Hurts,” was all I was able to gurgle out. 

“Tell me where baby,” Rafe spoke softly. 

“Ribs,” I choked.

“She just jumped in front of me man!” Topper exclaimed.

“Because you were beating a fucking kid Topper!” I snapped, flinching in pain.

“Can I lift you up, get you to the ER?” Rafe asked gently, his hands shaking as they stayed near my face.

“I think I can get up,” I huffed, having help from Rafe to stand. My ribs were aching, the pain feeling like a stabbing sensation. 

“I’ll deal with you later.” Rafe hissed as Topper, following behind me as I walked back towards the golf cart.

=========================================

A cracked rib that would take a while to heal, the doctor was surprised that it wasn’t crushed with the severity of the bruise forming on my ribcage. I was told to not go back to work for at least a week, yeah, we’ll see how that goes over with my dad...

“So, you want me to cancel dinner tonight?” Rafe asked, holding my hand tight in his as we exited the ER. 

“No, I still want to go.” I insisted, nerves creeping in as I remembered I was having dinner with Rafe and his family tonight.

This would be the first time I would be there as Rafe’s girlfriend, and I was scared shitless. I knew my parents, or I should say my mother and my biological father, grew up with Ward and Rose. The tension was there at the Kook gatherings they made me attend since my mother had me when she was still in High School. 

“I don’t want you to go if you feel like you have to...you don’t need to suffer in pain all night.” Rafe sighed, assisting me while I climbed into the passenger seat of his truck.

“Rafe this is important, I want to make a good impression, and how is it going to look if I bail.” I scoffed. He had one arm leaning on the open door while the other was by my head, his blue eyes filled with worry.

“They aren’t going to give a shit if you’re hurt. Baby, please just think about this.” he murmured.

“I have thought about it, I’m going, and that’s final.” I growled, swinging my legs in the door. 

=========================================

I spent the next three hours making sure every detail about my outfit, hair, and makeup were perfect. Rafe laid on my bed, scrolling through his phone while he waited for me to get ready. His constant complaints about how long I was taking was really starting to irritate me however…

“Babe, this isn’t a fancy ass dinner. It’s just my dad and Rose, and I think my sisters might be there.” Rafe mumbled, throwing his phone down beside him.

“I swear to god Rafe, if you complain one more fucking time…” I laughed humorlessly.

Rafe got up from his spot, leaning down behind me. His eyes met mine in the mirror, staying connected as he leaned down towards my neck. He placed gentle, wet kisses down the side, my eyes widening when I felt his teeth nick a spot just below my ear.

“Rafe!” I gasped, pulling away from him immediately. His shit eating grin earned a playful shove from me, his laughter booming through my room.

“I’m gonna kill you,” I gritted through my teeth, trying to cover up the bite to the best of my abilities. Once I was fully dressed, Rafe’s eyes surely would have popped out of his head if they had gotten any wider. 

“Oh Jesus,” he muttered, taking his eyes away from you.

“What?” I panicked.

“How am I supposed to sit through a family dinner with you lookin’ like that.” he blurted, a giggle slipping through my lips.

“Sorry baby,” I smiled, leaning up on my toes to kiss him.

“You look stunning, and I’m so happy you’re all mine.” Rafe whispered, butterflies racing in my stomach at his compliment. 

“Thank you Rafe, I’m happy too.” I spoke softly, giving him another sweet kiss.

=========================================

I wanted to puke from how nervous I was, wishing I had taken Rafe’s idea to cancel. I was about to high tail it back to the truck, but before I knew it, we were entering the Cameron household. Rose smiled wickedly sweet at Rafe and I, Ward didn’t even glance towards us, and Sarah and Wheezie were the only ones to actually greet us. I felt awkward around Sarah with the beef she still had with Kie, and I knew she was also talking to John B. Rafe didn’t seem to notice my discomfort, dragging me to the dining room. 

“So Rafe, how long is this one gonna last?” Ward rumbled from his seat.

“Seriously dad?” Rafe questioned, his grip on my hand almost hurting. 

“I’m just saying...none of your other, um, exploits, really had staying power. You think this is gonna last more than a week?” Ward chuckled, ice flowing through my veins as my gaze went back and forth between the two men. 

“We’ve been together almost three months, I really care about her dad. Can we please have just a normal dinner?” Rafe exasperated, running a hand through his hair. 

“I mean Rafe...you know about her parents.” Rose spoke up, my head snapping in her direction.

“What are you talking about?” Rafe asked, irritation clear in his voice.

“Her mother’s track record isn’t exactly...well let’s just say she sure knows how to pick ‘em.” Rose chuckled, my shoulders straightening.

“I’d thank you kindly to keep my mother’s business out of your mouth Mrs. Cameron.” I spoke harshly.

“Honey...your real dad didn’t want your mother, he didn’t want you, so what makes you think our Rafe will have anything to do with you? Your mother was a slut, and you know what they say...like mother like daughter.” she pointed out, my blood boiling at this point. 

“That’s enough!” Rafe shouted, standing up so fast his chair raked against the tile. 

I shot out of my seat, tears pricking my eyes as I made my way out the front door. I could hear them all arguing, but I didn’t care to listen. My ribs protested as I let out a sob, my hand holding on to them as a rush of pain surged through me. I was prepared to walk home at this point, my feet carrying me on instinct. 

“Y/n, wait baby please!” I heard Rafe call.

“Can you please just take me home Rafe, I want to go.” I sniffled, backing away when he tried to reach out for me. 

=========================================

“I’m so sorry,” Rafe whispered when he parked his truck in front of my house.

“Not your fault, I just...I definitely was not expecting that.” I mumbled, wringing my hands out anxiously. I looked from my house and back to Rafe, biting down gently on my lip.

“Do you...do you want to stay with me?” I asked quietly, looking down at my hands.

“Only if you want me to,” he smiled, my head nodding immediately. 

I did my nightly routine, checking the locks on everything before heading back to my room. I put a scrunchie on the door which signaled the kids that I didn’t want to be bothered. I left my fairy lights on, sliding in next to Rafe who was already cozied up under my covers. I buried my face into his neck, completely entangling myself with him. His hand traveled up my thigh that was laying across him, stopping at my hip to rub the skin that was showing from my shirt riding up. The rings on his fingers left goosebumps behind, the cold metal contrasting with the warmth that had spread from him to me. 

“For the record, I plan on keeping you.” Rafe smirked, pinching my skin playfully.

“Lucky me then, I get to put up with your dumbassery for a little while longer.” I teased, the both of us sent into a fit of laughter. Once that died down, Rafe tilted my chin up, kissing me tenderly.

“Sweet dreams beautiful,” he whispered.

“Sleep tight slick,” I yawned, snuggling up closer as I let my eyes close.

=========================================

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