#my knees hurting only counts when it fucks with my ability to stand/walk

[ebdaydreamer]

they should invent a spine that doesn't hurt

[eoieopda]

menace (pjm) — pt. ii

“Be careful with that lip,” he warned in a thick voice dropped low, “Pout like that again, and I might bite it.”

Pairing: Park Jimin x Kim!Reader Type: 2/6 (Mini Series) ⇢ Previous Chapter | Masterlist Word Count: 6.5K Content: (General) Seokjin’s younger sister AU; fuck buddies that hate each other; reader is AFAB & queer; surprise cameo by my current dream girl. (SMUT | 18+) this part is written in sort of an omniscient POV; brat-tamer!Jimin & brat!Reader; oral sex (m); manhandling; spanking; slight degradation & spit kink; unprotected sex (p in v); safe word in place (unused). A/N: Absolutely re-worked a shit ton of this part after “Smoke Sprite” dropped because I needed this cameo to happen 😵‍💫 I'm gonna put the tags in the comments this time because Tumblr has been shitty about them lately, lol.

Immediately after Jimin left you in that green room, dangling off a ledge, you did your best to bury that blush on your cheeks in pressed powder. The lip balm he was wearing when he kissed your temple caused that powder to cling where you didn’t want it, and it left you with two options:

You could uproot the flawless base you’d created prior to his unwelcome arrival, spend time you didn’t have destroying evidence. Alternatively, you could pretend not to notice the faint lip print shining in a shade just slightly darker than the rest of your face. Even if it was more or less invisible to the naked eye, it was a flashing, neon sign to you.

And just like that, his unanticipated crumb of affection made sense. So, you grabbed a makeup wipe from the travel-sized package you brought with you and set back to work.

That motherfucker.

When you’d gathered yourself to the best of your ability, you glanced in the mirror. Still a bit flushed, still a bit shaky, but still deadly. Any other loner you'd run into wouldn’t stand a chance; and though your primary goal was paying off the orgasm debt Jimin had defaulted on, it didn’t hurt to consider how far up a wall it would drive him to watch you weigh your options.

You wouldn’t chalk it up to jealousy, the way Jimin reacted when he saw you convert strangers into acolytes. From where you were standing, that telltale clench of his jaw wasn’t precipitated by your habit of looking at anyone but him. More than anything, his problem likely had to do with the fact that it was you people were staring at — not him. The name of the game was desirability, after all; and Jimin seemed to really fucking hate it whenever you pulled ahead — collected more merit badges in the form of phone numbers.

Of course, he might not have hated it as much if you didn’t love rubbing his nose in it to the extent you did.

Upon walking out into the club’s private bar, the first face you caught sight of was that of your brother. Judging by the way he was sputtering, Seokjin was witnessing your weather-inappropriate outfit for the first time — and he was not handling it well. You rolled your eyes, refusing to give him and the burnt-red tips of his ears a second glance. If you did, he’d be launching himself over bar stools to force you into his winter coat.

Worse, knowing how reactionary he was when it came to you, it was safe to assume that he’d enucleate every wandering eye he found fixated on you. That wouldn’t bode well for the stranger seated at the center of the bar, whose whiskey-warm gaze in your direction was an invitation in and of itself.

Coincidence or kismet, it didn’t matter — the only open spot at the bar happened to be right next to her, whoever she was. She grabbed her clutch off the bar top in front of that unoccupied stool as soon as she saw you headed her way. Despite the distance, you could see the smirk working its way across her lips; and the nearly imperceptible dimple she’d unearthed in doing so.

Target acquired.

When you finally reached her, it was difficult to tell whether the slight tremble in your knees was due to the discomfort of your heels, or the sharp cut of her jaw jutting out beyond the razored edge of her hair. Pretending that it was neither, rather than both, you gestured to the open seat with a coquettish smile, “Saving this for someone?”

The stranger’s voice was deeper than you expected from someone as petite; it left your whole hopeless body vibrating.

“My Valentine,” she said with a dreamy sigh, and it sounded like a song. Mirroring the movement of your finger, she pointed nonchalantly to the stool, silently telling you to claim it. “Lucky for me, I think I found them.”

“Lucky for them,” you corrected, sliding into your seat and title simultaneously. Now with your elbow resting against the bar, you propped your chin up on the heel of your hand and narrowed your eyes thoughtfully. “If only they knew your name.”

The same finger that guided you to your spot raised to flag down the bartender. What else can it do? Killing two birds with one stone, she told the bartender which tab to put your drink on: “Hwang Soyoon —”

“Someak, please.”

“— but naekko works, too.”

It might’ve been the cheesiest line you’d ever heard, but goddamn, was it effective. You accepted your drink with a quick bow of your head, then even more quickly, you took a swig to calm the heat threatening to burn through your cheeks. Once the butterflies in your stomach were sufficiently drowned in alcohol, you set your glass back down on a coaster and picked up Soyoon’s hand in its place.

“You this smooth on the dance floor?” you asked as you tilted your head in the direction of your destination.

In lieu of a verbal response, she got to her feet and, with another smirk, she helped you to yours.

Two drinks and no small amount of shameless, wholly observable flirting later, you and your prize stumbled off the dance floor to reclaim your seats at the bar. Soyoon’s arm likely would’ve remained draped around your shoulders whether your heels hurt or not; but you had no qualms about playing it up, playing right into her hands.

Tragically, with you deposited safely on a bar stool, Soyoon’s hands slipped away — but not before her fingertips slid slowly down the length of your spine, leaving you to tingle hopelessly in her wake. Oh, for fuck’s sake, was it really that easy to get to you?

She ducked down and came in close so you could hear her over the music. “I’m headed for the restroom,” she said, “Don’t run away, yeah?”

Eyes wide and twinkling, you nodded obediently — albeit more enthusiastically than you wanted to let on — and you felt a small crack form in your nonchalant façade. Never were much good with a poker face, huh? Unable to cover it, the corners of your mouth automatically curved downward as she turned away. They didn’t stay there for long.

Several meters away, now unobstructed without Soyoon in front of you, stood Park Jimin. To put it mildly, he was incensed, angst radiating off of him like a smoke signal. His stony gaze pinned you where you sat; and those eyes narrowed further, flashing a shade darker when you raised both middle fingers. They were near to black when you used those neatly manicured fingertips to push the corners of your mouth into a shit-eating grin.

“Smile, fucker!” You mouthed.

Jimin, now positively glowering, held up his own middle fingers in response. This time, he didn’t imitate your smug antics. The look on his face was a bullet, hitting you hard in the chest and causing your body to clench on instinct, and your stomach to flip with anticipation. Oh, you were going to get it for this.

So, you figured, why not push that thorn a little further into his side?

Without stopping to think twice, you rose again to your feet. God, these fucking heels. You swallowed down the pain emanating from the balls of your feet and strutted up to him like it didn’t ache to do so. Unfortunately, none of the heads you turned in the process would suffice.

By the time you were halfway to his small, circular table, Jimin had already looked away. Drink held up to his lips, he sipped and stared coolly off into the crowd. Like you weren’t there, like you weren’t worthy of ongoing attention.

Liar.

He continued looking everywhere else when you slipped in beside him — when you flicked your hair over your shoulder and grazed his in the process — when you failed to conceal the pout beginning to form on your face.

This motherfucker.

Even as you glared up at him, Jimin ignored you. With a huff, you crossed your arms over your chest and shifted your weight from one leg to the other.

You played this game with him constantly but in reverse, allowing him to feel like he was invisible, like you couldn’t be bothered to register his presence. With that ego of his, you knew it stung — and you knew exactly how childish it was to hate the taste of your own medicine.

“You know, it’s rude to leer,” you breezed, “Worse, the optics are a bit… predatory, don’t you think? Weird, lone male shooting daggers at a couple of sapphics?”

He took another sip of his drink, set the glass down, and tilted his head to flutter his eyelashes at you. His tone was dripping in feigned innocence when he replied, “Would the optics be better if I left a pretty girl alone at a bar? What if I did it just to throw myself at someone else?”

You didn’t know why you felt the need to defend yourself, but you did; rushing headlong, right into the pitfall, “I didn’t leave anyone — she went to the restroom.”

Jimin smirked and nodded once over your shoulder, “Well, she’s back now.”

You quickly turned your head to see what he did: Soyoon rolling her eyes while you froze and Jimin waved at her with a frighteningly accurate imitation of friendliness. She was gone again in the blink of an eye, slipping off towards the door, before you could even dream of catching up to her.

Shit. Why were you like this?

“Poor baby,” he cooed with the world’s most patronizing frown. “Gonna pout some more?”

Already cutting your losses, you plastered on a saccharine smile, “Of course not.” Your fingertips whispered over his forearm as you leaned into his ear. With a voice that dripped dark and sweet like honey, you quoted him and watched his pupils blow, “I’m going to make you cry.”

Jimin grabbed his glass and tossed back the liquor that remained without flinching. Then, he leaned down, lips damn near touching your ear, and snapped, “Get your shit and meet me outside in ten minutes. If you’re late, you’re walking.”

You exhaled a laugh through your nose and raised an eyebrow, “Who said I wanted to leave with you?”

With how closely he was standing to you, Jimin had completely shielded you from the throng of people standing nearby. Cloaked in low light, his hand ducked under the hem of your dress so he could scrape his thumb nail over the spot he’d marked earlier with your own wetness.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he whispered darkly with eyes fixated on your mouth. He licked his lips, then emphasized each word: “Ten — minutes.”

Jimin disappeared and left you to stand there with a wildfire tearing through your insides. You waited until you knew he was gone to let go of the breath you’d unintentionally been holding, now a shaky gasp that died as soon as it hit the air.

It took you less than three minutes to race off to the green room and gather your coat, purse, and regrettably large makeup bag. Despite that fact, you made a point to stand a few meters from the club’s exit for what remained of your ten minutes. You stared down at your watch, still aflame, and watched the seconds tick by; smirking as you allowed one extra minute to slip away.

Eleven minutes after you’d parted ways, you slipped past Seokjin and out the back door to find Jimin leaning impatiently against his car with his arms crossed.

“Brave of you,” His tone was light, but his eyes were anything but. “You gonna be like this all night?”

You cocked your head to the side the way he’d done earlier. “I’m not sure what you mean, Park,” you said with your blinking eyes sweet enough to cause a cavity. “You gonna stand there, or are you gonna help me with these?”

He watched you raise your encumbered hands like your cosmetics were made of bricks, and let out a long-suffering groan. Jimin knew you were full of shit; you were the last person who ever needed — or wanted — his help. You were just an unmitigated pain in his ass, always. But he clearly had places to be and people to ruin, and your brattish behavior was once again interfering with well-laid plans.

When he crossed over to you, his footsteps kicked up a cloud of dirt that swirled in weak pirouettes around his ankles. In no time at all, he grabbed the bags you pretended to struggle with and carried them just as easily as you could’ve, if you deigned to lift a finger. He shot you a look that broadcasted: I’m only doing this to get your ass moving.

You giggled meanly as he dealt with your burden and sauntered off to the front seat of his SUV. It took a bit of effort to balance yourself on your fucking heels as you slid onto to leather, but you were immediately grateful to be off your feet again. Once you’d settled, you glanced down and realized how far the hem of your dress had shifted in the process.

In any other circumstance, you’d fix it, cover the dangerous expanse of your exposed, upper thigh. Now, though, you opted not to do a damn thing about it. Instead, you did what came naturally: you made it worse.

With a contented sigh, you kicked off your pumps and rested your feet on his dashboard, bare legs stretched out ahead until they crossed at the ankles. If your brother were here, he’d tell you that you were being rude; and in anyone else’s car, Seokjin would be right. Still, you knew it ate at Jimin whenever you did whatever improper thing you wanted.

You knew the way his cock twitched when he watched you not give a fuck; when you suckered him into doing menial tasks, like tucking your belongings into the backseat of his car. He’d never say so and you’d never ask, but there was no other explanation you could think of for why he gave in. Punctuating your thought, he slammed the back door and made his way to the driver’s seat.

Jimin slid into the spot next to you and immediately clocked the way the skirt of your dress had hitched up. He stared for a moment longer than he likely meant to, then his eyes trailed down your legs to find your bare feet resting on his dashboard.

“Were you raised by wolves?” He waved his hand at your legs with annoyance that only grew alongside your smirk. “Seriously, you’re a fucking animal.”

You let your head roll to your shoulder as you leaned over the center console. “Oh, you cut me, Park.” You teased and poked out your bottom lip out in a put-upon pout.

Adding injury to insult, you threw your hand up to your forehead in your best imitation of his usual theatrics — then, you let it drop. The back of your hand collided with his bicep as it fell; and it remained there long enough for him to reach out and grab it. His fingers encircled your wrist easily, doubling over and gripping hard.

“Be careful with that lip,” he warned in a thick voice dropped low, “Pout like that again, and I might bite it.”

You raised an eyebrow, silently daring him to try. To the contrary, Jimin let go of your wrist and pushed your hand off him so he could slide the key into the ignition. The engine sputtered without turning over, leaving you to wonder if it was going to start at all.

He scoffed, “See? Told you that if you weren’t here in ten minutes, you’d be walking.”

To both of your surprise, you exhaled a laugh — a genuine one, no less — at his little joke. It caught him off guard and caused him to chuckle, too, for just a moment before he stopped abruptly and muttered, “Shut up. I’m concentrating.”

“Like I’ve never heard you say that before.”

You rolled your eyes and then your neck to lean your head against the seat rest. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him shoot you an indignant look; but as usual, you ignored it. “Should I just leave then?”

When his exasperation briefly flickered over to confusion, you gestured out the window to a taxi parked nearby. If you ditched him now, you’d be home in five minutes instead of however long this was going to take.

“Patience,” Jimin growled as he wiggled the key and turned it again. “If you could — just once — stop bitching and wait —” The engine roared to life with one last turn of the key. “— you could wipe that miserable look off your face.”

You turned in your seat, genuinely offended, as he pulled out onto the street. “I look miserable?” You laughed hotly, “You look like a kicked puppy every time I see you.”

Jimin’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly enough to turn his knuckles white. “Did you ever think about the timing of that?” He fired back. “You think it’s a coincidence that I look like this whenever I’m confronted with that?”

He didn’t take his eyes off the road, but he did remove one hand to point it right at your face, which featured wild eyes and gritted teeth.

“I swear to God, it’s like you were designed in a lab somewhere for the sole purpose of sapping my will to live. How the fuck else does a person end up being this much of a nightmare?” Jimin was nearly shouting now. As his voice raised, so did your heart rate — so did your chest as you heaved forceful, angry breaths.

Though the heat of your seething bodies was starting to steam up the windows, you could still see the shadow of your tiny house approaching quickly from the middle distance. Throwing your arm out, you pointed to the driveway he was about to rocket past and snarled, “Fucking brake!”

Jimin begrudgingly did as you said. Your bodies both lurched forwards. Your seat belt gripped you the same way his arm had earlier, but when you crashed backwards, your back was flush to your seat instead of his chest. Just as suddenly as he’s braked, he whipped his car into your driveway and came dangerously close to your garage door before throwing the gear shift to park.

“You absolute fucking menace!” You smacked his bicep again, harder now, “Are you trying to forfeit my security deposit? Why don’t you just open my wallet a burn every won you find?”

With a grunt, you threw off your seat belt and let the end of it smack against the plastic molding as it returned to its resting place. He did the same, in the same manner you had, but went ahead to criticize you for your roughness.

“I only give a shit about the dents you’re so dead-set on making in my car,” Jimin spat. Turning abruptly to you, his hand darted out, dipped under your left leg, and prompted you to pull your feet down from his dashboard. “Your rental means dick to me.”

You rolled your eyes for the hundredth time that night as you slipped out of your seat, grabbed your heels, and slammed his passenger door shut behind you. Shoving your clenched fist into your coat pocket, you gripped your keys and pulled them out as if you were wielding a knife. Rage still simmering, you stomped barefoot up to your doorstep just to fumble with the lock on your front door.

As you struggled, the key slipped from your fingers and clattered down against the concrete patch below. That pin dropped from the grenade and exploded through the quiet. As you stared down dejectedly at it, your tiny growl came out like a whine.

Before you could snatch it off the ground, Jimin swooped in. “Give it here, crybaby,” he said while shooting you an exasperated look. With ease, he jammed the key into the lock, turned it, and shoved the door open.

The inner doorknob smashed against the wall of your foyer, and you rounded on him immediately. Jimin raised one finger in your face, and it stopped your shout before it could fly out at him. He stared straight ahead of him, positively seething, “If you mention your security deposit again, I’ll lose my goddamn mind.”

Beyond fed up, you huffed once more and stomped off over the threshold. You didn’t give a shit if he followed you.

As you tore down the hallway to your bedroom, you didn’t bother switching on any of the lights you passed. You were too busy throwing down your shoes and wrestling out of your jacket; leaving a trail of outerwear behind you as you went. Entirely incapable of caring that you’d created an obstacle course for the boy mere steps away.

Jimin staggered along after you, dodging the various items of clothing you’d left scattered across the hardwood. His jacket and shoes clattered to the ground on top of yours, thudding heavy like his pulse in his ears. Twin tornados as usual, you left a path of total destruction in your wake — every single time.

When he finally reached your bedroom, Jimin was panting. You were sitting and seething on the edge of your bed, trying desperately — and failing — to reach the zipper on the back of your dress. True to form, he leaned against the wall and watched you with quiet amusement but offered no aid.

Truthfully, he liked the idea of you wearing that stupid little number while he fucked you; he’d been marinating in that little fantasy all night. Unlike every other person in that club, Jimin didn’t have to imagine the curve of your ass underneath that red satin. He didn’t have to dream about kissing at your thighs the way the edge of that fabric did when you danced, or sunk down onto a bar stool and crossed one leg over the other.

No, Jimin had no quarrel with that dress — he felt equal to it, rather than robbed by it. He’d been everywhere it had and then some, a million times or more.

As he watched your frustration build, he wondered if you’d give up soon. His dick was swelling uncomfortably against his chinos, and he was beginning to lose his already limited patience. So, apparently, were you. Reaching behind your back, you gripped the sides of your dress in both fists and pulled — hard. You gasped as if it’d hurt you, but Jimin knew it would take much more than that.

There was the unmistakable sound of plastic breaking, and then the familiar look of triumph on your face as you stood. Your dress slipped off you like water and dropped dead in a pool of red at your feet. The mangled zipper was somehow still attached, but its teeth had been pried open. Jimin tried not to look impressed — your ever-present ego didn’t need to be bolstered.

You stepped out of the halo around your ankles and kicked it carelessly aside, vowing silently to replace the zipper tomorrow. You lifted your head, breathing hard, and locked eyes with Jimin. The sight of him standing there, doing fuck all, forced an indignant groan out of your parted lips.

“Why —” You hissed, “Are you still dressed?”

Jimin shrugged noncommittally, knowing full well it would enrage you. “Figured you had a knack for zippers,” He murmured innocently, “Was thinking you could handle mine.”

He was goading you, and you knew it, and you still took the bait. He wanted your animalistic hands clawing desperately at him, and to an extent, he’d get them. But he should have been more careful with what he wished for because he wasn’t ready for you.

You closed the distance between you and pushed the center of his chest — not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough for the unexpected force to knock his head back against the wall. You were on one tonight, and for once, he didn’t bite back at you. The look in his eyes admitted that he enjoyed this side of you; that he wanted to see what came of it.

You wasted no time dropping to your knees in front of him and flicking open his belt buckle. Once you had proper access, nimble fingers undid the top button of his slacks, exposing his zipper. You were half-tempted to rip it the way you’d ripped your own — to teach him a lesson — but you didn’t. You inhaled slowly, and exhaled more so.

As sluggishly as you could, you tugged the zipper down. Your knuckle brushed against the side of his cock as it pressed eagerly against the fabric of his trousers and underlying boxer briefs; it twitched at the brief contact. Even more slowly, you slid your fingers through belt loops on either side of his hips and tugged. With the pressure of his pants alleviated, you heard him sigh softly overhead.

It was so stupidly easy to get him hard like this. And on the off chance it wasn’t this easy for everyone, you were an expert at making him like this. You leaned towards the tip, and as you did, you looked up at him from under your lashes. His cock jerked in response, begging for attention you were still refusing to pay it.

You had him, hook, line, and sinker.

Without breaking eye contact, you let your tongue slide out from between your lips. As chastely as a thing like it could be done, you ran it over the tip of his clothed cock, fabric already dampened by pre-cum before your saliva could stain it.

“Fucking touch it already,” Jimin snarled from above you.

You smirked, bumping your chin against the side of him but childishly refusing to put your mouth back on him.

“You begging, Park? Is that what that was?” You pressed up higher on your knees so that his length rested against the center of your throat. If your hypothesis panned out, the vibration of your voice alone might kill him. “If you’re going to beg, you should use your manners.”

He groaned exactly as you predicted he would, letting his eyes screw shut — half blissed, half vexed. With them still closed, his hand reached out and carded gently through the hair at the crown of your head; uncharacteristically soft until he grabbed a handful. The sting at your scalp caused your eyes to water, and your head to tilt back.

Now with half-lidded eyes, Jimin watched the column of your exposed throat bob as he used his free hand to push down the waistband of his briefs — the last barrier between his cock and your mouth. He wanted you full of him if that’s what it took to finally shut you up.

Your index finger traced the vein running along the underside of his length, dragged out another involuntary twitch that burned him up inside. You then switched to your thumb as you went gliding back the way you’d come, and when you finally reached the base of him, your hand teased his balls. Left without words to hurl at you, all Jimin could do was swallow a groan and grip your soft strands tighter.

It was a drag-out fight to keep his eyes open, but he had to if he wanted to watch you kneel in front of him as if you were praying. So perfectly obscene; he’d die a thousand times before you finally took him in your mouth.

You spat in the palm of your hand — unexpectedly crude for a princess like you — and then you began working the length of his dick with alternating pressure. As your small, soft hand pumped him, your mouth surprised him. When you enveloped one of his balls with your mouth, he keened and allowed his eyes to flutter shut again.

As far as Jimin was concerned, there was one use for that bratty mouth, and this was it.

After too few moments massaging his balls with your mouth, you tragically pulled back. The interruption in contact caused him to crack his eyes open and peer desperately back down at you. Under a curtain of dark lashes, your gaze rose to meet his — and then, without warning, you spat directly on his cock. Involuntarily, Jimin’s mouth dropped open and stayed that way as he watched the trail of saliva connect your bottom lip to him.

Oh, fuck you.

Your tongue swirled expertly over his tip while your hand worked over the base of his cock. Try as you might, you’d never fit all of him in your mouth at once — at least, you were sure Jimin assumed so. You hallowed out your cheeks and bobbed your head along as you took more and more of him; earning shuddered moans as you did.

Every now and then, he’d pull at your hair and roll his hips forward, fuck himself a little further into your mouth. You’d feign a whimper as if he was pushing you to your limit, and you let him think so. The sick sound of you pretending to struggle was dragging him close to the edge, but Jimin had no idea what his undoing would truly be:

Smirking to yourself, you wrapped your hands around the back of his thighs to anchor yourself. Undoubtedly confused, you felt him tense in the moment before you pushed further, further, further. Blinking away tears, you noted the way his eyes sparked when his tip slid past your soft palate and touched the back of your throat. They screwed shut as soon you caught him staring and swallowed.

“Ohh, fuck!”

The words sputtered out of Jimin’s mouth the same way his cum shot down the back of your throat. Tensed fingers twisted in your hair as his hips jerked helplessly against the heat of your wide-open mouth. Unable to process any part of what you’d just done to him, he couldn’t seem to get any air in his lungs either — somehow, you’d broken his brain, and his body didn’t know what the fuck to do about it.

You pressed against the front of his thighs as you leaned away from him, eyes still locked. Then, you lifted the back of your hand to your mouth — twisted in some devilish grin — and wiped the spit that had dribbled down your chin.

You little fucking demon.

Jimin hated it when you finished him off during the first round; and you knew it. It infuriated him to no end when you spent him like that — right out of the gate — because he’d have to wait to retaliate. You were well aware of that fact, too. Goddamn menace.

As blissed out as he was with his cock shoved down your throat, he was bubbling over with exasperation in the aftermath. “What the fuck was that?” He panted.

Jimin had so many questions, but he wouldn’t ask you anything further. Who does that? Who planted that idea in your head? Who had you been practicing on, and why hadn’t it been him?

The impish glint in your eyes didn’t dissipate when you shrugged noncommittally — just as he’d done to you, mere minutes before you’d successfully scrambled his brains. Because there was nothing you loved more than weaponizing his own words against him, you sighed with a frown, “Was thinking you could handle me. Nobody busts that fast, though. D’you think you should see a specialist about that?”

Instant gratification came when his arms hooked under your arms and lifted you abruptly from your feet to your knees. So, maybe there was one thing you loved more than firing his bullshit back at him. You tried not to let the excitement show on your face when he spun you around, left you staring down at your bed while you dripped with anticipation.

“Shut your mouth,” Jimin demanded while he took your arms hostage behind you. Evidence of his returning arousal was pressed flush against the small of your back, stoking the fire building in your core. “And lay down on your stomach.”

For once, you did what he said without putting up a fight. Despite the scowl on your face, there was a hurricane inside you that left your mind dizzy, and your panties soaked. Falling into place atop your duvet, you stretched your arms up and under the coolness of your pillows with a sigh. The soft fabric against your cheek and naked chest nearly had you in a trance.

It was a hard slap on your ass that brought you back to the present moment; and ravenous hands tugging down your underwear that kept you there. Your pleasured cries filled every space between his words and his swift smacks, but they went ignored; dead and buried in the fibers of your bedding.

“Why is it —” His warm palm collided with your doughy flesh again and you whimpered, though you tried to swallow it. “— that you look your best — ” He kept his hand still to dull the sting, only to dig blunt fingertips into your ass cheek. “— with your face buried in your pillows?”

You turned to putty in his hands every time he played so roughly with your skin, left little keepsakes behind to remind you where he’d been. If you hadn’t encouraged him to mark you, you suspected he wouldn’t. To his credit, Jimin was much gentler before you stopped letting him be; and as time passed — to your surprise — turning you on seemed to factor heavily into his own arousal.

Not inclined to waste any more time, he leaned over your reddened, stinging backside and grabbed the hands you’d stowed away under your pillows. Though he took care not to ring out your shoulders, he nipped cruelly at one with his teeth as he encircled your wrists with his fingers and jerked them down behind your back. He held them in place with his left hand and brought his right hand expectantly to your mouth.

Jimin didn’t have to say a word for you to hear him, loud and clear. You spit into his hand and, within seconds and without speaking, he pulled away again. In your peripheral vision, you watched in a daze as he pumped his fist back and forth to spread your saliva down his length, rolling his wrist as he worked the tip, bottom lip clenched between his teeth.

Selfishly, albeit predictably, he was more fixated on himself than you – and it drove you mad. You knew better, but you still interjected: “If you’re not going to fuck me, can you get out of my house?”

“Really sealed your fate with that one,” Jimin laughed dryly before smacking his hand down on your ass. As he gripped, he spread your cheeks apart, though his knees on either side of your legs kept you from moving. “Remember to say boksunga when you can no longer handle the consequences of your own actions.”

With that brief reference to your safe word — the one neither of you had used since it was chosen several months ago — he lined himself up at your spit-slicked entrance. The feeling of his tip at your slit caused you to swallow hard; and knowing what was coming next made your stomach flip. Your lips parted in the anticipation of a gasp.

The pressure of him driving himself into you — slowly and conscientiously, but to the hilt, nonetheless — was all but blinding. You needed him to move for you to acclimate to his size, but he stayed torturously still, leaving your shocked walls struggling to adjust. With your legs pinned together the way they were, you felt every vein, every slight curve — but what you still didn’t feel was movement.

“Move, Park,” you hissed through gritted teeth. The stretch brought on by his girth threatened to split you clean in half, no matter how many times he’d entered you before. It was difficult to breathe apart from gasping.

He responded in your own words, mocking the tone you’d taken with him not ten minutes earlier. “Are you begging? If you’re going to beg, you should really use your manners.”

“P-Park, I swear to God —”

He leaned down to your ear and somehow — though you’d have thought it impossible — his cock buried deeper inside of you. One wrong move, and you could kiss your cervix goodbye. In every way that mattered, you were trapped.

“There’s gotta be a please rolling around in that space between your ears,” He teased in a low voice that broke you.

Your swallowed pride burned on its way down. “Please,” you begged, “Please move. I need you to move.”

Satisfied that he’d snuffed out the fight in you, Jimin acquiesced. As he pulled away from your ear, he rolled back — tantalizing but, as you quickly learned, a false front. He pushed back in just as deeply as the first time without ever pulling out completely. The curve of his cock ground against your g-spot; the hands gripping hard at your captured wrists did nothing to stabilize you as you shuddered.

“Is that all it takes to make you go quiet?” His laugh struck harder than his hips did when they snapped forward. “Shit — if that’s the case, then why do I ever stop fucking you?”

Every time his pelvis collided with the flesh of your ass, the sound of skin hitting skin echoed through the electrified air of your bedroom. It was all unholy, but still, you begged God that he’d never stop. He was wrong, though – you were anything but quiet.

To the contrary, you were on the brink of babbling as your cunt gushed around him. With each thrust into your wet heat, Jimin shook another useless thought loose; sent you out of your mind over him.

You’d devolved into a muttering fool by the time your orgasm crept up from the pit of your stomach. When it finally crashed over you, you sensed that it was compensating for the one you’d been denied earlier. Every sensation seemed doubled, and twice as hard to fight.

You screamed as you came — a sound Jimin had never heard from you before — and he was entirely unprepared for it. You came undone around him with a half-sob and forced his release in tandem with yours, cunt squeezing him so tightly that his vision started to blur.

And when the firefight was over, you were both silent. Fucked stupid, neither of you were capable of speech, let alone critical thought.

It was funny, you thought as you re-entered the Earth’s atmosphere, that the only peace you’d ever known with Jimin came immediately after you did.

[idabbleincrazy]

Never a Wish Better Than This (7/7)

Fandom: Smallville

Rating: E

Pairing: Clex

Characters: Clark, Lex, surprise guest appearance

Word Count: 9346 (8265 without the lyrics)

Warnings: angst, schmoop, fluff, smut, oral, anal fingering, anal, intensely emotional smut, soulmate-ish stuff, So Much Kissing, bottom!Lex, top!Clark, subby!Lex, songfic (kinda)

Summary: Clark surprises Lex. Lex surprises himself.

A/N: and that's one more chapter fic finally finished! Now onto the daunting task of rewriting as much of the rest of the show as possible.

Lex's POV:

Okay, ow. Gee, Lex, yes, let's allow the computer-generated likeness of your boyfriend's biological father to use alien technology to zap a fuckton of Kryptonian (holy shit, that's quick absorption) knowledge into your brain, sounds like a genius idea. 

As the torrent of information dies down, I become aware of Clark's warmth pressing against my back, solid and grounding, his arms wrapped around my waist. When did I fall to my knees? 

"Lex?"

"I'm fine, Clark." Fuck, wish my voice sounded more steady. I turn my head to look at him, the newly gained knowledge of just how spectacular Clark really is, even more than I'd already figured, making my head spin with the scientific possibilities. Have to clamp down on all that, though. Mustn't treat the love of your life like a lab rat, Lex. I push aside the thoughts of experiments and underground laboratories, and press my hand to the side of his face. "You really are amazing, Clark."

There's that blush I love so much. 

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Other than the start of what's promising to be a fuckingly awful headache? Yes, I'm alright."

"Yeah, I think the only time I've ever had a real, lasting, migraine was when the A.I. did the same thing to me."

I frown at him as he stands up, pulling me up with him. 

"So, it's not just Kryptonite that can affect you physically?"

"You know about that now, huh?"

I nod, thinking. Knowledge is power, and now I don't know if I trust myself to keep from letting this much power corrupt me. 

"Look, Clark, maybe this wasn't such a good idea, after all. I mean, sure, it gives a lot of clarity to the things that have happened these last four years; your little walk on the wild side and all that, but…Clark, what if I'm more like my father than I thought? What if I'm worse? I don't want to hurt you, Clark, but what if I really am the villain of the story?"

My heart clenches at the look he gives me just before he envelopes me in his strong embrace. His mouth is just centimeters from my ear as he shushes me. 

"You won't, Lex. I won't let you." He pressed a soft kiss to my cheek before pulling back, his bright, green gaze locking onto mine, full of promises. "Sure, you could hurt me now, physically. But you always had the ability to hurt me emotionally, and you've never done anything that couldn't be forgiven. We've hurt each other, Lex, without even meaning to, with our secrets and lies, and going behind each other's backs. We're still here, together. Because, ultimately, neither of us has given in to what's expected of us."

God, I don't deserve him, this incredible, beautiful being who somehow believes in me, despite everything. Staring back at him, I feel the bond now, like a pulsing thread stretching between us. During the transfer, I saw the other threads to his potential lovers, coiling out around Smallville, and beyond. Lana, of course, and Chloe. I wasn't surprised to learn of Kyla and Alicia, their threads now severed, laying dark and still. I was, however, surprised by Pete and Lois both having a connection, though Pete's appeared very weak and frayed, whether by physical distance or emotional, I was unsure. Chloe's thread gave off less of a thrum than Lois and Lana's, less like a lover, rather, more like a true confidante, and it made me wonder how much she knew about Clark. Lana's thread, though slightly frayed, still fought to maintain its connection, and Lois' seemed somewhat muted, like there was a resistance being enacted upon it from one side or the other. 

It worried me a little, that these connections still stood. Yes, Clark chose me, and I, him, but any one of these other potentials would be so much safer. 

I'm a Luthor, dammit. Luthors don't second-guess themselves. Luthors have conviction. We make a decision and stand by it, to the end. You love Clark, and would do anything for him.

But what does a Luthor know of love? Luthors hurt and betray, pretend affection to get what they want from people, use them to further their own end. I've fucked endless numbers of people, but I've never cared about them, about their wants and needs and feelings.

Ah, but you did once, didn't you? That first time. You loved him, and would've done anything for him, too.

And that worked out so well, didn't it? Those blue, too blue, eyes flash through my memory with a sting of betrayal. He hurt me, deeply, what's to stop Clark from doing the same thing?

You don't really believe that, do you? Do you really think him capable of inflicting such pain?

No. I don't. And that's what matters, isn't it? I snap myself out of my inner contemplation and pull Clark into a deep, searching kiss. I find my strength, my conviction, in that kiss, his tongue twining with mine, his hands flexing, oh, so carefully, at my waist. Breathless, I break the kiss, pressing my forehead to his, just holding on to him.

"I don't deserve you, Clark Kent."

"Hey, don't talk like that. You deserve love, and I will make you see that. Where'd you go just now?"

"Nowhere, Clark." I disentangle myself from his arms, looking around at the cavern. The hewn-rock table with the element I'd found in Egypt set in the center beckons me, another secret, another temptation. I know enough now to know it wasn't actually Clark who betrayed me with that theft, that Jor-El had been steering him. It can wait. "I know there's still a lot about this place to discuss and explore, but, Clark, can we just go? That transfer, it's taken a lot outta me."

"Oh. Sure. You're okay, though? This was a pretty big step."

"I assure you, I'm alright. I just need time for everything to sort itself out in there." Letting him lead the way back through the passageways, I toss him the key to the Porsche. "You drive back, though, okay?"

"Really?! You're gonna let me drive one of your babies?"

"I trust you, Clark. More than I've ever trusted anyone."

Clark's face crinkles in a grimace at my harken back to the day he came to borrow the red Ferrari. 

"I wasn't exactly myself that day, you get that, right?"

I nod in understanding, all too aware of the truth behind that incident. 

"Red Kryptonite makes you a little uninhibited, doesn't it?"

"Something like that."

"Hey, it's not like I've never done drugs. I get it, and it's okay, Clark." I watch as Clark closes the hidden cavern back up without so much as a goodbye to his father's…memory? I'm definitely going to have to look into that further; I don't fully trust that the A.I. has Clark's best interest in mind in its actions. "Come on, Clark, let's get back to the farm. The sooner we get there, the more time we'll have alone in your little loft."

Clark flashes a smirk to mirror mine and we walk out into the midday sun, leaving me blinking against it as my eyes adjust. I look over at him as we head back to the car, wonder sinking in at the realization that it's our yellow sun that strengthens him, gives him his amazing abilities. Weird to think that on his planet, he would be just, average. Clark Kent and average should never belong in the same sentence. 

Clark's POV:

Jeez. I knew Lex was going to take a bit of work, but I don't think I was expecting it to be this bad. He just doesn't see himself the way I do. He sees the man everyone else thinks he is, a carbon-copy of his dad. He's always so confident and sophisticated on the outside that I've forgotten about those glimpses I've seen of the insecure, yet hopeful, young man he is underneath the Luthor-scion façade. I haven't forgotten about the incident with the black Kryptonite, I haven't forgotten about how truly dark and twisted Lex has the capability to become, but I also remember how good his other side was. I remember how he tried to save me from himself, how he was willing to die along with the other Lex, just to keep me from harm. There is the capacity for terrible evil within him, as there is in most of us, but like most people, there is also the capacity for great kindness. I've seen how caring he can be.

I saw it when he fought against his father and worked out a way to lower operation costs rather than laying off a couple hundred people who were dependent on their jobs at the plant. I saw it when he did everything in his considerable power to try to save Ryan. I saw it when he paid off my parents' mortgage to keep us from losing the farm, even though he'd barely been back from his honeymoon from hell for barely a day, and the only thing he'd asked in return was to be treated, not like a Luthor, but like a Kent. I saw it when he took responsibility for his company's R&D mishap, giving himself up as guinea pig for an antidote that could have killed him. He's done so much for this town, with so little thanks in return. I know who Lex Luthor really is, I just have to make him see it, too. 

I know he still has things he hasn't told me, but I'm not going to push. He'll tell me in his own time, or he won't, but I trust him to not do anything that would end up hurting me or the people I care about. I have to believe in that. Having faith in someone isn't about making that choice after knowing all the facts, it's about making a conscious decision to trust them even when you're in the dark. He loves me, and that's something Lex Luthor doesn't do easily, or halfway. And that knowledge is enough for now. 

As I pull up the drive to the barn, I realize we still haven't gotten around to discussing the us part of our relationship. With the revelation of my apparent ability to forge a more-than-figurative bond, that kinda took a backseat. I'm not completely sure what this connection between us entails, but it's going to take another trip to the cave and a lengthy conversation with Jor-El to figure it out, so I put a pin in it for now. I still have my surprise waiting inside, and I think Lex needs it now more than ever. Grand gestures go a long way with him, after all.

I shift into park and kill the ignition before looking over at Lex, who has been unnaturally silent on the trip back. I don't think he even sees what he's looking at beyond the passenger window. I know it was a lot of information to take in all at once like that, probably even more so for a human brain, but I don't think his thoughts are really on my Kryptonian heritage. Well, self-reflection can come later; I put a lot of work into getting this just right and I'm not going to let Lex's doubts about himself rain on my parade. I take his hand in mine, feeling him startle slightly as I drag him from his introspection, and there's an almost deer-in-the-headlights look on his face when he turns to look at me. 

"Hey, it'll all work out, Lex, trust me. I believe in us."

"I do trust you, Clark. After that, how can I not? It's…it's me I'm not so sure about."

I don't know whether to shake him until he sees sense or fold him into my embrace like a swaddled infant in need of comfort, so I settle for somewhere in-between, pulling him halfway across the center console and crushing my mouth to his. I pour as much meaning into the kiss as I can, hoping he feels the love and trust I have for him. With a gentle, if somewhat annoyed, nip to his bottom lip, I push him back into his seat, slightly smug at his gasping pants for breath. I hadn't even used tongue.

"You're a good man, Lex Luthor. Anyone who actually bothers to get to know you can see that. And, I don't care how long it takes, I will make you see it, too." Unbuckling my seatbelt, I toss him the keys and start to step out of the car, trusting him to follow me instinctively. "But, not today. Today, I have something a lot better planned than trying to convince one of the most stubborn people in the world of their real worth."

He frowns at the dig, but falls into step beside me as we walk through the barn door. At the foot of the stairs, I stop him, pulling him against me, back to chest. 

"Trust me?"

He cranes his head back around to give me a put-upon look. 

"Clark…"

"Indulge me."

Huffy sigh and an eye roll, as expected.

"I trust you, Clark."

"Good." 

I press a quick kiss to his cheek and cover his eyes with one hand, the other dropping to his waist to keep him close. I guide him up the stairs without a stumble and lead him to the center of the loft.

"Clark, what's with the subterfuge? Come on, let me see, already."

There's a lightness to his voice that wasn't there when we left the car. Good. No Debbie Downers allowed. I remove my hand from over his eyes and step back, releasing my hold on him. 

He turns slowly, taking in the sight of the rearranged and redecorated loft, a confused, wide-eyed wonder growing on his face. 

The Look to the Stars banner I managed to find stashed away in the school's supply closet is stretched across one wall. Glittery streamers and twinkling lights hung from the ceiling, their effect slightly muted by the sunlight streaming in through the window, but still glinting and casting shadows around us. The furniture is all pushed back against the back wall, leaving the majority of the floor bare. I couldn't risk using mom's punch bowl that she uses during the holidays, but there were a few snacks and drinks set up on the coffee table. 

"Clark, what - what is all this?"

"Kinda thought it wasn't completely fair that the man who paid for the band didn't get to see them play, y'know?" I speed over to the table and back before he can really register that I even moved, a small remote in my hand. "Prom was great, Dawn's ghostly antics aside, I got to dance with Lana, and it was just like I had spent years dreaming it would be. But, something was missing."

I press a button on the remote, and music rings out from the speakers hidden away in the shadowy corners of the ceiling. Pocketing the remote, I reach out a hand to Lex.

"Can I have this dance?"

Wordlessly, he places his hand in mine, letting me take the lead as I pull him in close. His hands wrap around my shoulders and mine around his waist, and we begin a simple sway to the music, his face tilted up towards mine, eyes bright in the light reflecting around us.

What day is it

And in what month?

This clock never seemed so alive

I can't keep up, and I can't back down

I've been losing so much time

I've only known Lex for less than five years, but I feel as though I've known him all my life. Like my life didn't really start until I met him. I spent the last four years and eight months unsure of myself, and unable to admit who I really am. The last twenty-four hours have been the best, most freeing, hours of my life, and I mourn all the hours between that moment on the river bank and now. I just need to make him understand. He's not the only one struggling here, not the only one who's vulnerable.

"You've done so much for other people, Lex, without even being asked, without even caring about the recognition. I mean, who even pays what was probably an ungodly amount of money to fly a real, popular, band out to the middle of nowhere for a high school dance, unbidden? I wouldn't have even known that you organized it if Chloe hadn't told me."

'Cause it's you and me

And all of the people with nothing to do

Nothing to lose

And it's you and me

And all of the people

And I don't know why

I can't keep my eyes off of you

"I did it for you, you know. I wanted your high school experience to be complete." He's still staring at me, wide-eyed and marveling. His voice is soft, almost below my range of hearing, like he doesn't know if he wants me to hear it. "I skipped my prom. I couldn't very well show up with the one person I really wanted to, and none of the girls from our sister school seemed an acceptable replacement. I'm not very fond of what I remember of that night. This…this is better."

"It's better for me, too. 'Cause it's you."

What are the things that I want to say

Just aren't coming out right?

I'm tripping on words

You got my head spinning

I don't know where to go from here

"Clark," his voice so raw, trembling, and I've never heard it that way, not even last night, when we were stripped bare in every way. "I'm…I'm not good at this. At relationships, at love. And I love you, more than I've ever loved anyone, or anything in this fucking world. But I - Clark, I don't know how - how to do this, how to love you and not hurt you and not be afraid of being hurt."

'Cause it's you and me

And all of the people with nothing to do

Nothing to prove

And it's you and me

And all of the people

And I don't know why

I can't keep my eyes off of you

God, I love this man in my arms. I want to show him what I see, but I don't know how to put it any plainer than I already have. I hate the world that has made him so jaded and scared so young. We've stopped moving, just staring at each other as the song continues on, neither of us blinking for long stretches of time.

"You do, Lex. I've seen it. When you're not trying to be the man your father spent years trying to mold you into. When you're completely yourself, you're one of the best people I know." 

There's something about you now

That I can't quite figure out

Everything she does is beautiful

Everything she does is right

"Just…help me? If-if I fuck up, if I slip into that man I don't want to be?"

'Cause it's you and me

And all of the people with nothing to do

Nothing to lose

And it's you and me and all of the people

And I don't know why

I can't keep my eyes off of you and me

And all of the people with nothing to do

Nothing to prove

And it's you and me and all of the people

And I don't know why

I can't keep my eyes off of you

"Always, Lex. We balance each other. That's what people who are meant to be together do."

What day is it?

And in what month?

This clock never seemed so alive

The song ends, and I release him, reaching for the remote and stopping the music before the next song begins, needing the silence. Until this moment, I hadn't decided on whether to give him this next part of the surprise or to wait until we were more settled. I know now, there will be no moment better than this. Forcing myself not to speed, I cross back over to the makeshift refreshment table and pick up the metal box I had hidden behind a bag of chips. Lana had wondered why I asked for it back after all this time, but she accepted my bumbling explanation with the same grace she always does, even through the glint of sadness that flashed behind her eyes when she handed over the lead box made from St. George's armor. I think she sensed the finality of the dance between us as she placed it into my waiting hand. If she ever sees the box in Lex's possession, I don't think it would take her long to put two and two together. 

Fingering the blunt spikes lined along the sides nervously, I start the music again, leaving the remote on the table, and cross back to where Lex is still standing, waiting, his eyes flitting down to the box and back up to mine in confusion.

Lex's POV:

How many times can a person be overwhelmed with emotion in such a short span of time? I had expected Clark to lead me up here for some simple, distracting, fooling around before running the risk of being caught by either elder Kent or the ever-nosy Ms. Lane. Not this. No one's ever done anything like this for me. 

I'm confused by the St. George box in his hands, and the opening strains of guitar coming from the speakers makes my heart clench slightly in trepidation. Whatever's inside is obviously important, like every moment of the last twenty-four hours has been. 

Desperate for changing, starving for truth

I'm closer to where I started, I'm chasing after you

The funny thing is, I'd never even heard of Lifehouse until I started searching for the perfect band to play at Clark's prom. Chloe had given me a burned cd of the most popular alt rock and pop songs of the last four years, and the second I'd heard You and Me, I knew they were it. My decision had been cemented after I did a bit of research and came across a few more of their singles that seemed like someone had gained insider information on just how deeply my feelings for Clark ran. I'd listened to them so many times, their words were imprinted at the back of my brain. Wonder how  much it would cost to keep them on retainer.

"I thought you gave that to Lana?"

"I did. I thought it was time it was returned to its rightful owner, along with something else I once mistook as being meant for her."

Clark handed me the box, and I opened it warily, wondering if it was perhaps some kind of test involving Kryptonite. Instead of a green, glowing meteorite, within the lead box, lay a thick-banded silver bracelet with a diamond-shaped, blue-hued opal delicately placed within the circular cutout in its center. 

I'm falling even more in love with you

Letting go of all I've held on to

I'm standing here until you make me move

I'm hanging by a moment here with you

"This…Clark, isn't this the bracelet from the cave drawing? The one with the girl?"

Clark stepped closer and carefully, almost reverently, plucked the bracelet from the box, letting the gem catch the light and throw it back across the room, dazzling me even further. 

"According to the Kawatche legend, this is meant to be given by Naman to the one he's destined to be with." He hesitates, his fingers tracing around the pattern pressed into the edges of the silver. "Over the two years I've had this, I almost gave this to three other people; Kyla, Lana, and Alicia, but something held me back. I'll always miss Kyla and Alicia, always regret that we didn't get to follow things to a natural conclusion, but I don't think either of those relationships would have ended any differently than it did with Lana, even with them knowing about my abilities. You don't have to wear it, obviously, but if I am Naman, then, Segeeth or not, this belongs to you."

Forgetting all I'm lacking, completely incomplete

I'll take your invitation, you take all of me now

I take the proffered bracelet from him, my fingers lingering as they brush over his. Setting the box down on the floor, I pointedly clamp the bracelet around my wrist, the open ends just lightly touching to mold almost perfectly to the shape of my wrist. I can see the emotions swimming in his eyes, a surge of unexpected confidence washing through me. Clark loves me, trusts me despite everything. 

I'm falling even more in love with you

Letting go of all I've held on to

I'm standing here until you make me move

I'm hanging by a moment here with you

I'm living for the only thing I know

I'm running and not quite sure where to go

And I don't know what I'm diving into

Just hanging by a moment here with you

"I'd be honored to wear it whenever I can, Clark." I wish my voice didn't sound so raw in my own ears. "Sometimes, it's better not to fight destiny."

There's nothing else to lose, there's nothing else to find

There's nothing in the world that can change my mind

There is nothing else

There is nothing else

There is nothing else

The smile he flashes is stunningly bright, a shaky laugh falling from his lips, and I can't help but pull him to me. 

Desperate for changing, starving for truth

I'm closer to where I started, I'm chasing after you

I feel his arms slip back around me as I capture his mouth, sealing all the promises we've made each other today, both spoken and silent. My lips part under his as he takes control of the kiss, my eyes falling shut. 

I'm falling even more in love with you

Letting go of all I've held on to

I'm standing here until you make me move

I'm hanging by a moment here with you

I'm living for the only thing I know

I'm running and not quite sure where to go

And I don't know what I'm diving into

Just hanging by a moment here with you

At the first touch of his tongue against mine, I moan, my nascent arousal surging startlingly back into overdrive. As he clutches me close, I can feel the evidence of his own desire pressing against my hip and I can't help but buck up into the girth of him. I want him now. In me. Even more than I did last night. I feel like I've woken up on that river bank all over again, a rush of renewed life flowing through me, the lips of an angel, my angel, breathing his essence into my lungs to lead to redemption. 

Just hanging by a moment

Hanging by a moment here with you

Hanging by a moment

Hanging by a moment here with you

As the song trails down to an end, I break the kiss, feeling slightly off-kilter.

"Uh, Clark, we're floating again." 

I can't help but laugh at his sheepish look. At least nothing caught fire. The next song starts as we touch back down upon the wooden slats of the loft, and I sober quickly. 

A strangled smile fell from your face

What kills me that I hurt you this way

The worst part is that I didn't even know

Now there's a million reasons for you to go

But if you can find a reason to stay

"Is there still time before anyone comes back, Clark?"

He casts a quick look out the window, and I can see the laser-focus in his eyes as he scans the distance.

"Plenty. Dad's busy enough for the next couple hours, at least, and mom's just now going on break with Lois at the Talon." He crushes his lips back to mine, and he seems to be just as hungry for it as I am, a big hand sliding around my head to keep me from pulling away too quickly. I gasp into his mouth at the feel of his thumb caressing over the bump at the base of my skull, the gentle touch an unexpected shock to my system. "What do you want, Lex? Hmm? Want me to suck you off properly this time, baby? Wanna fuck me? God, I just, I love you so much, Lex. So beautiful, inside and out. Want to make you see that. Anything, baby, just tell me."

"I want you in me again, Clark. Need it." I'm moaning in-between kisses, grinding up into the hand that slides teasingly over my crotch. Turning my face into the curve of his shoulder, I let the fear seep out. "Fuck, please, baby, show me. Show me how much you love me. Show me what I'm fighting against the Luthor name for. God, Clark, I don't know how to be that man you see, but I want to. I want to be worthy of you."

"Dammit, Lex, you already are. Just by being here, by trying even though you're afraid."

I'll do whatever it takes

To turn this around

I know what's at stake

I know that I've let you down

In a whirl of air, Clark is gone, leaving me feeling bereft. The tortuous emotion is fleeting, as he is back in front of me, taking my hand again and leading me over to a shadowed corner of the loft where there's an impromptu set-up of blankets and pillows. 

I expected another mad rush to nudity, but he simply dips his head to brush his lips against my own as his fingers untangle from mine, sliding up my arms and across my shoulders, down my chest to the hem of my shirt. Thumbs caress briefly over my abdomen before he slowly tugs the shirt up, my arms raising without thought for him to pull the slightly sweat-dampened cotton over my head. 

I've never been undressed by a lover like this. So reverently, like unveiling my pale, nearly hairless, skin was something to be savored rather than a means to an end. Clark's kissing me again, a slow, sweeping exploration of my mouth that exudes such a quiet desperation that I can't even try to fight against it, merely allow it. 

When he finally relinquishes my mouth, I tug his shirt off, eyes roaming over golden skin that should never have to be covered by a single stitch. My hands join in, running slowly over dips and planes, my head starting to follow their path until Clark stops me with his forefinger under my chin, nudging me back up. 

And if you give me a chance

Believe that I can change

I'll keep us together

Whatever it takes

A whisper of a kiss to my lips before that sweet, sinful mouth of his starts a trail along my jaw, down my throat, feather-light, his hands sliding up my sides and over my chest. His lips work their way across one shoulder, tongue sliding slowly over the freckles I know are there. I swallow hard, trying to will away the tremble I feel running through me, my hands clenching lightly on his hips as he travels along my collarbone to the other shoulder, teeth clamping, oh so gently, over the skin stretched tight across bone. 

I watch the top of his head as he continues his downward path, kissing and licking, tasting, every bit of me he comes in contact with, thumbs sliding up to scrape over my nipples, sending a jolt of electricity straight to my aching cock.

A broken moan escapes me, and Clark's dips briefly into my navel, swirling erotically around the indent before kneeling on the hard wooden floor. His eyes raise back to mine, deep pools of onyx within thin rings of emerald, and I want to capture that look in stone, in something I can wear, always, and remember this moment. This instant, with his head upturned to watch me watching him, his hands slipping down to the waist of my jeans, fingers easing the button through its hole, sliding the zipper down so excruciatingly slowly that I swear I hear each tooth parting.

She said if we're gonna make this work

You gotta let me inside even though it hurts

Don't hide the broken parts that I need to see

Fly open, he groans softly as he discovers I've gone commando, pressing his face into the sparse russet curls and inhaling deeply, the movement visible in the muscles of his bare back. So close to freedom from its denim confines and Clark's mouth, I feel a spurt of pre-cum ooze from my cock, so much like Pavlov's dog drooling at the sound of the bell. Addicted to him already. Hands slide down my legs, and I curve forward slightly, my hands now on his shoulders to stabilize myself as he lifts first one foot, then the other, removing shoes and socks before pulling my jeans down, helping me step out of them.

Face back on mine as his hands wrap around my hips and he leans forward, engulfing me in the heat of his mouth. Swallows me down in one slick slide of lips and tongue, until I'm pressing at the back of his throat. It takes everything in my vast well of willpower not to tear my gaze away from his, let my head fall back on my shoulders, as he shifts me back and forth, guiding my hips into a steady, if too slow, pace. Christ, too much and not enough, and this is not the way it's supposed to be, so sweet and gentle and not at all the overwhelming and almost brutal taking of last night. 

Not supposed to go this way. Never has. No one has ever been so gentle, so passionate, so caring, not with me. Not even…no. Blink away the memory of blue eyes and swim in the green staring up at me. I don't deserve this, this barrier-breaking affection and selfless attention as he lets me take over, thrusting down his throat, his jaw going slack to take me so completely, lips brushing against the sensitive skin at the base of my cock with every push in. I'm a Luthor, and this is not what Luthors are given, never willingly, not with such blind trust and complete faith, never when it isn't a well-masked lie paid for exorbitantly.

A sound like a sob slips past my lips before I can choke it back, sight momentarily blurry until I can blink away the salt sting. Clark's face changes minutely, just enough to show it didn't escape his scrutiny. His hands tighten on my hips just enough to halt me mid-thrust. One last, slow, backward pull along the shaft of my throbbing cock before he releases it from its newly found haven.

She said like it or not it's the way it's gotta be

You've gotta love yourself if you can ever love me

His mouth shapes into those two lines of verse, and a shudder wracks through me, and my eyes fall shut, trying to block out the world, him. 

"I…I don't know if I can." I wrench my eyes open again, hand sliding up into Clark's hair, tugging forcefully, enough that it would hurt anyone else to resist. He gets the demand behind the action, allows me to pull him up to standing, to guide his mouth to mine in a kiss that rattles me more than it does him. Tongues overlapping, sweeping into each other's mouths, his hands still tight on my hips, and I moan desperately against his lips as my cock drags over the rough denim of his jeans. "Teach me, Clark, show me how. Make me trust myself the way you trust me, the way I trust you."

I'll do whatever it takes

To turn this around

I know what's at stake

I know that I've let you down

And if you give me a chance

And give me a break

I'll keep us together

Without breaking the kiss completely, Clark manages to maneuver us down onto the pile of bedding, the remainder of his clothing lost in the transition from standing to stretched out above me. No thought involved as legs spread wide to accommodate the span of his waist between them as he settles, the brush of his cock against mine making me pulse again, slicking the slide as he rocks into me. 

My hands fall away from him to stretch above my head in surrender, (when had I even given in so completely?), as he pulls back slightly, his face more serious and open than I remember ever seeing it. A bottle of lube from fuck knows where, wetting fingers that disappear between us as I keep my gaze on him. Gasp out a breath when his hand grazes my aching cock for the briefest moment before continuing its way further down, my legs spreading wider, hips canting up, as slippery fingers slide over that sensitive bit of skin behind my balls and down, between, there. Flicker of heat in Clark's eyes as the pad of a finger finds that furled ring of muscle, only the merest circling needed before it relaxes, welcoming the intrusion. 

Years of sex without bottoming, without another man's fingers inside me, and after just one time with him, already it feels so natural, opening to him, giving him this part of me. And so different than last night, my urgent, raw need for more and more, replaced with a connoisseur's appreciation of his quickly learned skill. Savoring the way he eases his forefinger into me, his free hand at my hip, pinning me to the floor, the disallowment of movement allowing me to just lay there, just let myself really feel it, the way I never have before. It's…transcendent. His eyes, boring into mine, willing me to understand, to see myself the way he does. 

I'd let the knowledge of the literal bond between us fade into the background once we'd arrived at the barn, distracted by all of - this. I feel it again, now, a thrum running between us, and I can't help but gasp. 

"Clark." God, my voice has never sounded so ragged in my own ears, my breath coming out in short, audible huffs, and I have a flash of fear that my asthma has suddenly returned under the strain of so much emotion after years of denial. "Oh, God, please."

Another finger slips into me, Clark's head dipping down to brush his lips over mine as the digits stroke and stretch. There's no burn to it, surprisingly, even though I know my accelerated healing would have undone nearly all of last night's work by now. Just the slightest pinch as muscle loosens, and then pleasure, pure and honest pleasure. I feel the steady drip of pre-cum slicking my stomach as he thrusts slowly, have to fight the urge to reach down and touch, knowing it probably would bring this all to an embarrassingly quick end. I've made sex last for hours before cumming even once, but with him, it's just. Right. There. He tests my stamina and will with every touch, every look. 

I know you deserve much better

Remember the time I told you the way that I felt

And that I'd be lost without you and never find myself

Let's hold onto each other above everything else

Start over, start over

A few more strokes, and a third finger wiggles in, slightly snug, but still painless. I can tell he's deliberately avoiding my prostate, attempting to make this the least difficult for me that he can. I know there's wetness shining in the corners of my eyes, and know he notices it when his brow furrows minutely. Thankfully, he doesn't break the silence he's kept since he started stripping me bare. 

Barely notice the addition of his pinky, and I swear, he could fist me right now, and it wouldn't be any more difficult than the slight tug of skin as it's stretched taut around the breadth of his knuckles. If this moment wasn't so enthralling, if his face weren't so intently solemn, I might have begged for it. As it is, I already feel so completely owned, a realization that should have alarmed someone so thoroughly un-ownable as me. He's claimed me, through and through; I will never find this myriad swirl of emotions in the attentions of anyone else, even if I searched across the entire universe. God, I want to be worthy of this man, and he believes I already am. Fuck. I'm going to have to make some enormous changes in LuthorCorp. 

To turn this around

I'll do whatever it takes

I know what's at stake

I know that I've let you down

And if you give me a chance

Believe that I can change

I'll keep us together

Whatever it takes

One more deep, gentle stroke, and suddenly gone. Empty for the briefest second, barely enough to voice a mournfully breathy, pathetic, sound of disappointment, before the thick tip of his cock is breaching me. None of that hesitancy of night, no need for guidance, just the slow, steady slide of steel-hard flesh. Hand no longer pinning me in place, and my legs shift to brace against his sides as he stretches back out over me, hands wrapping firmly around my forearms, bracing us both. Feeling of fullness as he bottoms out, and a flare of light and heat from the band of silver clamped around my wrist.

Clark's POV:

Y'know, one of these days I'm going to have sex with Lex where he doesn't shed a single tear. It better be soon, or I'm gonna end up with some kind of complex. But, unlike last night's mystery tear, these don't seem borne of pain, more like a cleansing. Like he's finally just letting it all wash over him, soak in, and maybe it will scour away the doubt and fear he has of himself. I don't know how much clearer I can be on how I feel about him, about my trust in him to be his own Lex, not the carbon-copy Lionel tried so hard to shape him into. I don't have any more words, action is all that's left, and if the damp streaks down his cheeks are anything to go by, there's been at least some headway.

Find me here and speak to me

I want to feel you, I need to hear you

You are the light that's leading me

To the place where I find peace again

I'm not sure if he can even hear the music anymore, hard to tell what's making it past the intense focus he has trained on our lovemaking. I'll be sure to play this one again, repeatedly, just to make sure he gets the message. 

The feel of him around me, under me, is even more incredible than before. More than just giving into our lust for each other, this is Lex, the most willful, independent person I know, seeking guidance, asking me for help, for strength. And how could I ever deny him?

You are the strength that keeps me walking

You are the hope that keeps me trusting

You are the life to my soul

You are my purpose, you're everything

Taking the flare of light from the bracelet as a good sign, since it doesn't seem to be hurting Lex, I ease my way back, feeling my cock drag through the clenching passage. Nearly out of him as my hands slide down his arms to link my fingers through his, bracing, claiming. Slow push back into the twitching hole that opens so willingly for me, makes it so easy to be careful. 

And how can I stand here with you

And not be moved by you?

Would you tell me how could it be

Any better than this?

Yeah

I feel a thrum run through me, spreading out from my chest, down and outward towards Lex, like the brief connection I felt in the caves when Jor-El was transferring information into his mind. I'll have to ask Lex some time if he senses it, too. Later. Much later. 'Cause, God, not sure if I can utter anything more coherent than his name between the groans I can't hold in. 

Watery smile on his face now, small, but significant all the same, considering the startled look in his eyes. His legs lifting, wrapping around my thighs, heels digging into my ass, a wordless plea for more. And how can I deny him anything right now, with him all open and vulnerable and willing to let me be in control? 

You calm the storms and you give me rest

You hold me in your hands, you won't let me fall

You still my heart and you take my breath away

Would you take me in, take me deeper now?

I make a quick sweep over his lithe, pale body, unable not to notice the weeping, reddened cock twitching against his stomach, its contrast that much more obvious as he strains to stay still beneath me. I pull one hand free from his as I thrust slowly, deeply into him, my fingers trailing down his arm and over to his throat, thumb tracing along his jaw. Dipping my head to capture his mouth, my hand slides down to pluck briefly at his nipple, causing Lex to moan into my mouth, before gripping around his thigh, hiking the flexing limb higher up my back. The new position lets me slip deeper into him, and Lex wrenches away from the kiss, his head arching back with a jagged keen. 

And how can I stand here with you

And not be moved by you?

Would you tell me how could it be

Any better than this?

Rubbing my hand over his upper thigh like I'm soothing a startled horse, I thrust again, keeping aim on his prostate now that I've found it. 

"Clark! Please…I - oh, God, don't - don't stop. Don't ever stop."

And how can I stand here with you

And not be moved by you?

Would you tell me how could it be

Any better than this?

And this, this is what was missing last night. Pure, raw need, untempered by the haze of lust and four years worth of jerk-off fantasies. That was rutting, animalistic and dirty in all the best ways, but this. This is something more. Divine. 

Lex's free hand clutches around my neck, fingers twining into my hair, his other clutching my hand tight, nails trying to dig into flesh. Pressed against him like this, I can feel his cock throb, feel the slick warmth as another spurt of pre-cum rushes out. He's sobbing softly, his head turning away into the pillows. I bury my face in the curve of his throat, inhaling the sweat-slick scent of him, and wish I could mark him visibly, worry that bit of flesh between my teeth and show the world that he is mine. This beautiful, fractured, amazing, human is mine. 

You're everything, everything

'Cause you're all I want, you're all I need

You're all I want, you're all I need

You're everything, everything

You're all I want, you're all I need

You're everything, everything

You're all I want, you're all I need

Everything, everything

Tangled around each other, we fall into a rhythm, his body arching up into mine as I thrust into him. As slow as I've kept the pace, I can still feel my orgasm rushing towards me sooner than I thought possible. Lex flexes, his ass clenching around me, and I know it's a losing battle. 

And how can I stand here with you

And not be moved by you?

Would you tell me how could it be

Any better than this?

"I love you, Lex. So much. God, you're beautiful, baby, just…perfect. Look at me, Lex." I watch his eyes close for a moment, some internal war taking place, before he turns his face back to mine. Jesus, he's breathtaking like this, all his walls down, and it's like I can see straight into his soul, flawed and perfect at the same time. "No matter what happens, I'll never feel like this with anyone else. I chose you before I even knew there was a choice to make."

And how can I stand here with you

And not be moved by you?

Would you tell me how could it be

Any better, any better than this?

Lex's hand slides around to cup my face, his eyes boring into mine. My thrusts stilled, my cock protesting the sudden lack of friction.

"I-I can't promise I'll never fail you, Clark, but I promise to never stop trying. Since the day of the meteor shower, my life has felt…disconnected, incomplete." Lex let out a soft laugh, his warm breath ghosting over my lips as I stared down at him. "That feeling disappeared the moment I woke up on the riverbank, and saw the eyes of an angel looking down at me."

And how can I stand here with you

And not be moved by you?

Would you tell me how could it be

Any better than this?

He drew me into a deep, sensual kiss before I could respond. Not that I'm sure I would have been able to say anything more impressive than 'wow'. If there had been any lingering doubt that maybe there was someone out there better suited to me, that squashed it. Lex is only human, to expect him not to fail at some point, to never slip back into the darkness that had surrounded him for so long, would be naïve. But, even if he does take a wrong turn on his path, I know now that he'll let me help lead him back in the right direction. As he kissed me, he writhed against me, thrusting down on my cock, urging me back into action. 

"God", he whispered against my lips, voice rough and so thoroughly erotic. "Need to cum, Clark. Make me cum, baby."

And that was it. The tenuous hold I had on my own arousal snapped. With a deep groan that almost sounded like a growl in my ears, I clutched Lex to me as I began a faster pace, my tongue thrusting into his mouth in a mirror of my cock. I could feel my climax racing closer, my balls pulling up tight, that electric tingle pooling at the base of my spine.

Orgasm looming, and wanting Lex right there with me, I slid my hand up from his leg to wrap around his cock, swallowing his moans as I started stroking the thick shaft. It doesn't take much, a few firm strokes, my thumb brushing over the head of his cock in time with each nudge of my own against his prostate, and he stiffens beneath me. Bottomed out within him, his cry of pleasure smothered within my mouth, I feel the surge of warmth rush over my hand and against our stomachs as he cums. His nails are scraping at my impenetrable skin, tugging at my hair, and his internal muscles are clamping down on me, tight enough to actually register beyond my invulnerability. All senses narrowed down to Lex, the scent of his cum, the taste of his tongue on mine, the sound and feel of him coming completely undone. It's enough to send me falling over the edge just behind him, pulsing inside him, the backflow of my cum slicking my already sticky cock as I continue thrusting into him, riding him through our mutual release. 

Would you tell me how could it be

Any better than this?

Panting heavily, half-sobs hiccuping throughout, Lex goes limp in my embrace the instant his climax ends, limbs unwinding from their tangle around my body to flop unceremoniously to the floor. If he weren't so devastatingly beautiful like this, it would almost be comical. As it is, the sight of him as I open my eyes, all sprawled out and attempting to recover his wits, tear tracks down his cheeks and lips red and slightly puffy from abuse, leaves me breathless as I freeze above him, two last, powerful spurts of cum emptying into him.

"Lex," and Christ, my voice is raspy in my own ears as I finally speak, barely remembering not to just flop down on top of him. "You okay?"

He hums in acknowledgement, pulling me down onto him, seeking comfort as he comes back to himself. My deflating cock slips out of his stretched hole on a rush of wet warmth, and I can't even find it in myself to care about the mess that's going to leave. Plenty of time to hide the blanket in the laundry later. Lex snuggles into me as I roll us onto our sides, my hand rubbing down his back soothingly. Distantly, I notice the CD has started back at the beginning and the soft sound of Lex's voice singing along draws my gaze to his face. 

"Seriously, Lex. That was…intense…are you sure you're alright?"

"I will be. Trust me, Clark, I'm good at compartmentalizing. I just want to be here, with you, right now. I'll process it all later."

I sigh and give him a wary look as he gives me a quick kiss before pulling himself upright, looking around us for his discarded clothes. 

"Okay, but…promise me, if you start having some kind of freak-out, all alone in that empty castle of yours, surrounded by…everything…call me? I'll hear you, even without a phone, and I'll be there in seconds. You don't have to go through this alone, Lex. This is new, and scary, exciting, but scary, for me, too. We have to navigate this together."

I know Lex. I know, that left to his own devices, with no one to confide in, to work things out with, he'll internalize everything and let his own doubts override everything else. And that could never lead anywhere good.

Lex smiles down at me as he stands, reaching out a hand to pull me up with him. There's a lot going on behind those bright blue eyes, but I see the walls falling back into place, shuttering away the deep turmoil that had been there before. He pulls me into a tight hug, briefly nuzzling his nose into my neck.

"I promise, Clark."

Lex releases me and starts rooting around for his jeans. I have to look away when he bends down to retrieve them, my spent cock twitching interestedly at the sight of his ass, the light glistening on the trails of cum wetting the backs of his thighs. Busying myself with my own redressing distracts my teenage libido enough that I'm not too uncomfortable by the time I pull my zipper up.

Once we're both dressed, I pull him into my arms, my eyes roving over his face, memorizing. There's still a bit of openness there, enough to see the determination to succeed cementing within him. When a Luthor sets themself on a goal, it's like a dog with a bone. A soft smile twists my lips as I dip my head to capture his mouth, my tongue soothing over his kiss-bruised lips before delving between them.

I'm so focused on Lex, his taste and the scent of his sweat and cum still filling my senses, I barely hear the soft gasp over the sound of his moan and the music still playing from the speakers. The clatter and crash of ceramic on the wooden floor breaks through, though. Wrenching away from each other, as one, our heads whip around towards the stairs. I gulp loudly at the sight of the figure standing on the top step. 

"Oh, my God."

*******

@leatafandom

[cripple-culture-is]

Cripple culture is not wanting to go to PT anymore after just six weeks because it feels like your (phys abled) physical therapists don't understand anything about your situation and keep pushing for you to stop using the mobility aids that have increased your quality of life ten-fold.

I don't care if I'm relying on my mobility aids "too much". They want me to not use my crutches as much (which already don't help as much as I need them to) because I'm "strong enough" to not need them, according to them. Maybe my muscles are strong enough, but several times I have not been able to just go across the parking lot to get into the clinic from the car without my knees failing me, especially my bad one, or my hips and/or knees hurting like hell, or both. I'm strong as hell, sure, but that doesn't do shit when I'm scared to just go to the vending machine in my school alone because I'm worried my knee will dislocate or subluxate in the middle of me walking in the hallway for five minutes--which has happened on too many occasions to count. Not to mention my hips subluxating on multiple occasions when I'm not even doing anything--just laying in bed or on the couch on my back.

Or, get this, I went to [big city] and walked around for 45 minutes, and I was already knocked out. Then my family decided that we had to go to the store, and we did, and halfway through the shopping, I was in so weak and in so much pain that I physically could not talk. Once we got home, even after hours of resting, even after a full day, I could not walk more than ten feet without my crutches, and I couldn't walk at all without pain, even with crutches.

That's not even mentioning how, without my crutches, I am regularly banging into walls and door frames, and I have a relatively wide stance because I have no balance when I try to stand "normally" without them and am constantly consciously self-correcting so that I don't topple over. I've slammed my face into so many closed doors not because I don't see them, but because of how shite my balance and proprioception are. I run up the stairs on all fours when I don't have my crutches because A) it helps me not fall over because I feel like I'm about to pass out whenever I stand up, B) it helps me not fall over because I have awful balance, and C) it takes the weight off my legs and makes it less likely that they're going to collapse beneath me, especially on bad days.

I feel like they're so fucking desperate to cure me so I can walk "normally", that they're less focused on my actual quality of life and more focused on getting me to stop the mobility aids that I've needed since seventh grade at least, and only just got in August of last year. I bet that if I told them I wanted a wheelchair (and have wanted since seventh grade because every time I stood up, I felt like I was going to pass out), they would be mortified and tell me that I'm just making things worse for myself. They act like I'm overreacting and exaggerating all of my experiences, meanwhile I haven't been able to write with a pencil--especially non-mechanical pencils--for longer than ten seconds because of how much pain I'm in; meanwhile I have to catch my breath whenever I sit down after walking more than ten feet; meanwhile I can't even use a lot of exercise equipment, especially for the legs, because after just thirty seconds it feels like my bad knee is stabbing me.

(Sorry about the vent, I'm just so fucking tired of this shit. Tl;dr, my physical therapists don't listen to me and act like because I have strong muscles, I actually don't need my mobility aids as much as I do because they personally think, after six 45-minute tops sessions where we barely talk about my abilities in the real world, that I'm basically healthy aside from chronic pain, meanwhile I regularly risk subluxating my hips and knees just walking the distance from the parking lot to the clinic where I go to see them.)

Oh no! I'm so sorry you're dealing with that. They should really know better. As a disabled person, you are the only one who truly knows what will work for you. If your mobility aids help you, keep using them, your PT's reaction and opinion be damned. It isn't about them. It's about you.

If walking without them increases your fall risk, use your crutches.

[goofygecko]

👻Ghostly Encounter👻

William afton x ghost!reader

Masterlist

Warnings

This doesn't make sense at all, ghost sex, necrophillia???? Ig????, reader died in the 60s, technically still older man/younger woman, pinv sex, unrealistic, reader cums ectoplasm? (weird, yes), slightly public sex (I'm not sure if this counts), slut-shamimg, no prep

Summary

It's Halloween night and you lost your ability to go through walls and somehow gained the ability to interact with the living directly! Unfortunately, before this newly found information, you wandered onto a strange pizzeria and the owner was made fully aware of you.

A/N: I know these are usually at the end of my fics but there are a few clarifications to make prior to the fic. This takes place in modern times, meaning, William has a cellular device and such. I imagine reader's character wearing this so you know, just in case I don't describe it well.

Now with that, let's get spooky! 👻

-

-

The halls of the empty pizzeria were covered in Halloween decorations; some fake spiders hanging from the ceiling at certain spots, other spots adorned with bright orange lights and purple streamers. A few small cheese cloth ghosts hanging down to a height that very well could hit some employee in the head if they don't pay attention to what's infront of them.

The stage in the main area of the pizzeria held 3 animatronics dressed on different costumes; the brown bear dressed to look like Frankenstein with 2 oversized screws sticking out the sides of his head and stitches made of black felt strategically placed all over his limbs and one on his forehead.

The yellow chicken had a vampire cape tied loosely on her neck, two vampire fangs sticking out of her beak to match the cupcake in her hand.

And finally, the blue rabbit was wrapped in white gauze, eyes covered with tinted red glass. Whoever was decorating definitely got tired once they got to him.

As you gaze at the cheesy Halloween decorations you feel a shiver go through your body, your plain white eyes darting around in slight panic just for it to be settled when you assure yourself you're alone.

Atleast you believe you are.

You glide over to the nearest wall, expecting to go through it, just to smash your nose against it.

"Ouch! What the��?" You reach a hand out to touch the wall, knuckles hitting against the wall lightly.

Your stomach drops as your eyes widen in panic at your suddenly solid form. You take a step back only to hit your back against the wall with a loud thud.

-

"What the fuck was that?" A man sneers at the sudden noise, standing up from his chair and walking out of his office to investigate. A pocket knife gripped tightly in his hand as he walks through the halls, footsteps loud and deliberate as his dress shoes click on the floor.

-

You scatter through the halls in fear as you bump into plenty of walls, not paying attention to anything infront of you until you bump into a tall man, jolting back and landing on your ass.

"What the fuck are you doing in here?" He scowls down at you, "are you trying to get killed?" He bends down at his knees to meet your eyes, opening his pocket knife and putting it up to your cheek as your eyes fill with terror.

You gulp, "I-I'm so so so very sorry mister! P-Please don't hurt —"

"What the fuck are you?!" He gets back up after noticing your blank eyes, his brows furrowing as he points his knife at you. His purple slacks slightly wrinkled after the sudden motions.

You take this chance to get away from him, scattering on the floor until he grabs your leg and pulls you back towards him, the bottom of your nightgown pooling at your hips as he pulls your leg up to his waist to keep you from getting away.

"I-.." Your face fills with embarrassment and fear as your bare bottom half is revealed to him. His eyes locking on what was beneath your gown.

"What's this now, hm?" He smirks suggestively as he bends forward so his face is closer to your body. His movement makes you open your eyes wide as you breath heavily.

You squirm on the floor, trying to pull your leg away as you place your hands over your crotch to try and spare your last thread of dignity.

"Tsk tsk tsk.." He tuts in disapproval as he swats your hands away from between your legs, "Now.. my name is William Afton... but, I think I'd like it more if you kept calling me mister. Especially with what I am planning to do with you." He chuckles mischievously, other hand dropping his knife taking hold of your other ankle.

"W-What do you mean?"

"Oh, I think if you look down you'll know exactly what I mean."

Your eyes trail down his body until you catch sight of the large tent in his pants, eyes locking on it as you practically drool at the sight.

William looks down on you, silver eyes piercing into you as he bites his lip and lets go of you ankles.

"Now, why don't you stand up and go to table over there, eh?" He orders as he points over to a kids party table, making it sound like a request that you didn't want to risk denying as you scurry over to the brightly decorated table that sat near the glass door and window at the front of the pizzeria.

This was dumb. You knew it was dumb. What if someone saw your still slightly transparent form and called someone? What if this ruined the pizzeria's reputation. Well, the last one you could care less about, that's one less place to have to worry about getting lost in again.

As you were lost in thought, the man came up to you and pushed you onto the table. Being snapped out of your trance as he pulled your nightgown up and began fidgeting with his own belt.

"W-Wait don't you need t-too—" "Shut up, you're probably enough of a slut that I'll slide in easily."

He slaps his cock against your soaked pussy before slowly sliding it in, the stretch painful to you.

"F-Fuck.." He groans, "you're so tight, god damn."

"Ouch! Ouch! T-That hurts!" You whine out, hands reaching out to grab at his chest and wrap your arms around his neck until he wraps his arms around your back and picking you up.

His cock slips into you fully before he grabs at your ass, nails digging into the flesh as her bounces you on his cock, making you moan loudly.

"God.. you can take it."

And soon enough, your cries of pain turn into cries of pleasure. Your fingers digging into his back as you get close already.

"A-Ah! I'm gonna cum!" You sob out in pleasure.

"Already?" He laughs, "pathetic slut."

He pounds into you faster until you finally cum on his cock, your glowing liquids spilling onto him as he slows his thrusts slightly to give you a short 'break'.

"C-Can you c-cum in me?" You moan out, making something in him snap as he starts pounding into you brutally. His cock twitching and throbbing as he nears his end, his groans turning into moans and whimpers.

"C-Cumming!" He moans as his seed spills into you, filling you up before he pulls out.

"Fuck.. I think I might just need to keep you."

-

-

-

A/N(2.0): Sorry for the rushed end! I published it but turns out it didn't save the end!

[thistimeitsticks]

I’ve had disordered eating all of my life. My family was poor and our food access was limited, my mother had what I would easily believe to be ARFID, my gramma ate shit like mustard sandwiches, and my sister was always smaller than me even when I tried to eat exactly what she ate. I was the chubby and then the fat and then the morbidly obese sister. I’ve never been thin in my life, though I did get close in high school.

I developed a fairly severe eating disorder in 7th grade. It didn’t impact my weight much until around 9th grade, when I started going to the gym 5-7 times a week for 3+ hours and eating less than 1000 calories. I’ve always had a very difficult time losing weight, and this was the only time the weight really came off. I was obsessive, I hated myself, and nobody knew besides my partner that lived 1000+ miles away and could do nothing but try to love me through it.

I got down to 190lbs and a size 16 for the first time since I was in elementary school. I’d lost 70lbs and was curvy and busty with a comparatively small waist and I absolutely fucking hated myself. Could not stand to be in clothes that didn’t completely hide every inch of me. I even swam in long sleeves. I was training for a 5k and lifting heavy and ignoring how much pain I was in from starving myself and ignoring my chronic health issues no one could diagnose.

Then I got hit by a car. My already severe chronic pain became debilitating, despite my injuries being very mild. I could barely walk, let alone lift heavy. I maintained around 210 and was absolutely devastated about it.

Then, months before my prom, I got put on zyprexa to treat a psychiatric emergency and I put on over 100lbs in just a few months. My psychiatrist insisted I did not have an eating disorder because I was fat, told me I was putting on this weight because I wasn’t exercising enough and was eating too much (I was still eating less than 1000 calories a day) and that I just needed to cope.

I have continued to be in the 300s ever since. I’m still very disabled, despite constant attempts to make my body more functional and less painful. I worked hard to fix my relationship with food and was unable to even think about trying to lose weight because I could feel myself immediately tumbling back into my ED until 2020, when I decided to go through a bariatric program. I ultimately dropped out a month before surgery because I wouldn’t be able to take NSAIDS and they were unwilling and unable to tell me how else I’d be able to treat my severe chronic pain. They also promoted ED behaviour and were severely fatphobic, so I just…gave up.

I’m afraid of trying to lose weight again. I’ve been in therapy for 15 years. I’m not fatphobic anymore and I’m not trying to lose weight because I’m terrified of being fat. I am, and have been, and I’ve lived a life this way for years and been fine. I’ve felt pretty and ugly and capable and incapable in turns. I’ll feel that way if I lose weight.

But god I just want access to things. I want my friends to not have to worry about my ability to fit places they invite me. I want my knees to hurt less. I want to wear cool clothes. I want to feel comfortable on top during sex.

So today, through insurance, I’ve signed up at a few gyms around town (for free). I’ve been counting calories to get an idea of how much I eat for a week and with some mindfulness I’m landing at around 1500 a day. I’ve started going for walks every-every other day. One of the gyms I joined is 24 hours so I won’t have to struggle to get there around my roommates’ work schedules.

I’m excited. :) I’m not trying to lose super fast or do anything outlandish. I want to be smaller and stronger, and the process of getting there is going to be half the fun.

[sukirichi]

good girl (m.)

You’re such a good wife to Naoya that he rewards you for your obedience.

request. naoya coming home to his beloved little housewife and feels like giving her a treat for being such a good girl.,,.,, read: man’s gonna re-arrange your guts and have some soft moments with you after (not that he would ever admit that shsghshsj)

cw. explicit smut, riding, dirty talk WITH praising bcos why not, dom! husband naoya, sexism, overstimulation, creampie, lots of kissing, titty sucking, you might end up liking naoya and that’s a warning

note. LISTEN. this is purely self indulgent even if this is a request. my bestie requested this to me anyway so ik she won’t mind i pictured myself as the reader :) so if you don’t like how the reader and naoya was portrayed, that’s a you problem :) EDITED BECAUSE IT’S NAOYA YAY, also got inspired by @caizen​ ‘s ask about naoya wanting his wife to not bow too deep because he wants to see her face :)

[part of the trophy wife collection]

Being Naoya Zen’in’s trophy wife required a lot of things. You had to be immaculate, précised, refined and full of dignity in everything you did. He already did the work all by himself just to keep the house running, his hard work the only reason you were able to live such a comfortable, luxurious life. On top of that, you had an extremely powerful man trusting you to welcome him every night, and who were you to not fulfill your duty as his wife well?

The moment the black limousine parked on the driveway, the guards lined on duty opening the doors of him and the rest of the house staff greeting him, you were already in front of everyone.

Keep your head down, but don’t look too hard at your feet. Naoya-sama wants to see your face – his lovely wife’s face – upon his arrival.

He would never say it out loud, but five years and counting of marriage with him meant you knew him better than anyone. Through his confident and arrogant self, Naoya worried about a lot of things, you included. There were times he’d wake up in the middle of a nightmare in which he lost you, his arms scrambling to find your body to press it against his for reassurance. You were there, you would always be there, but the confirmation never hurt.

You bowed down to him, skin cleared, cheeks flushed, and lips glossy – all telltales of a happy, nurtured wife who was well taken care of – present before him. And you were beautiful too; the most gorgeous woman he’d ever laid his eyes on.

“Welcome home, Naoya-sama.”

Naoya’s shoulders immediately relaxed at the sight of you dressed in your yukata, hair done perfectly and hands clasped politely in your lap. He tried not to let it show too much though, even though his staff had watched him grow up, he needed to keep his pride as the clan leader. Not even his precious wife could make him tear down his walls in public, though you did not need to worry about his brash attitude, following him inside three steps behind as he’d instructed.

He loosened his tie and dismissed the other servants, locking the door of your shared room. “Is my tea prepared?”

“Yes, Naoya-sama, mixed with jasmine just as you like.”

Naoya’s hands stilled on his tie. His gaze fluttered over yours, eyes still ducked down to the floor with a small smile playing on your lips, one that said welcome home in more ways than one.

The sight of you – so compliant and meek as ever – stirred something deep within his heart. His whole life, he believed women were useless, creatures that were below him. Until now, he held firm in that, but fuck, you were always so open and willing to do everything he asked that he could feel himself hardening in his pants. Women may be useless, but once they followed his orders and praised him so heavenly the way you did?

He fucking loved it.

Naoya’s tie went flying the other room, his cock swelling in his pants as he tugged you by your wrist. You landed on the mattress behind you, watching with a heaving chest as your husband crawled above you. His gaze felt predatory, dark eyes hooded with lust while he planted his knees beside your waist, his fingers looped with yours.

You smiled sweetly up at him, so temptingly sweet his resolve broke for a split second. He captured your lips to taste you on him, the sounds of your husband’s satisfied hum making your chest puff out with pride.

Everyone may look down on you for marrying such a ‘horrible’ man like him, calling you stupid and immoral, even going as far as claiming you were nothing but a dumb cock-hungry slut, but Naoya – even you – knew better. You were not foolish; in fact, no one could handle Naoya’s attitude better than you did, and you were smart enough to keep buying that strawberry flavored lip balm he loved so much, causing your husband to squeeze your palms.

“Good girl,” he mumbled absentmindedly, the praises shooting heat flush to your core. “You’re so good for me, you know that?” he peppered kisses all over your skin, a gesture so rare that you were panting underneath him, resisting the urge to rub your legs together.

Naoya was extremely skillful in bed, his virility as a man not to be looked down on for his ability to render you immobile to walk, throat sore and voiceless for a few days truly impressive. But he was different today; his usual tight grip the same but laced with a want that went beyond than lust. You could never say it out loud, especially not around him, but it was clear – Naoya treated you with affection and care.

“I’m very lucky to have found such a submissive woman like you, but that’s not true is it? Women like you aren’t found, you’re trained,” he harshly tugged the first layers of your yukata to the side, exposing the sensitive flesh of your collarbone that was free for him to mark. “Have I trained you well, my wife?”

“Yes, Naoya-sama, trained me so good,” you rasped out, bringing your legs forward, only for it to bump against the sides of his waist.

Naoya sucked on your skin until he was sure he’d completely marked his territory, the grazing sensation of his teeth so erotic and passionate along with his clothed cock rubbing into your folds. His hand trailed down your waist, yanking the ties of your clothes apart. You gasped as he teasingly rubbed your clit, even going as far as to roll it between his strong fingers. “For you, ah, I’d do anything for you, Naoya-sama.”

“It’s my love when we’re in the sheets,” he corrected you, “When a woman knows her place and obeys me so well, a good girl like you deserves to be rewarded,” hearing your small whines at his words, Naoya chuckled at your skin. “Do you want that? Want me to make you feel good?”

“Yes, p-please, I need you,” you moaned wantonly, gathering the courage to lift your hips up and grind it against his erection. He surprised you by not pushing you away, so you kept going, slathering your wetness all over the front of his pants. “Fuck me, my love, please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Naoya smirked, standing up to rid himself of his pants and belt. You whined at the loss of contact and sat up on your elbows, legs spread wide open as you feasted on the delectable way he discarded his clothing one by one. His fat cock, red and flushed with pre-cum, slapped against his toned upper body.

You would’ve groaned at his bare beauty, but he’d already crawled on top of you once more, completely ridding you of the multiple layers of modest clothing you wore, revealing a redolent set of white lace.

Naoya narrowed his eyes at the nearly transparent thong, his hands cupping your seeping cunt with a low hum. “Is this for me? Did my pretty baby get dressed up for me?” you nodded eagerly, pathetically reaching upwards to wrap your arms around him. You were growing needy, soft yet desperate as your stuttered gasps hovered on his ear. “Were you thinking of me the whole time I was away for work?”

“I always think of you, my love,” you breathed out, “Your smile, your voice, your lips, your hands,” legs twitching, you dared run your knee to brush his forearm, the teasing and confident movement earning you a seductive, warning glare from your dominant husband. But oh – you were just starting to have your fun. “Your cock inside me.”

“Naughty little girl,” he snickered, grabbing your hand and shoving it deep inside your panties. That evoked a high-pitched moan from you as your nails grazed against your shaved pussy, Naoya’s smirk present the harder he pressed your palm on yourself. “Did you touch yourself? Pleasure yourself like this?” He was testing you, reminding you of his power and authority, trying to see if you would break his rules that he’d been so firm into fucking deep into your skull.

Naughty as you might be sometimes, you never forgot your place. You were daring, but never in your wildest dreams would you dare go against him. Not because you were plain weak and submissive, but simply because the thought of pleasing him more and feeding his ego was far more satisfying.

You shook your head, pitiable tears already shining through. “N-no, I would never. Only you can make me feel good, just you, mmh.”

Naoya groaned deep in his throat, satisfied at your answer. “You’re always so sweet for me,” he says, leaning over to knee your legs open wider. He situated himself between your body, slow and sensual in removing your bra and panties, the lacy material disappearing somewhere on the black marbled floors. You laid there, vulnerable and wanting, clutching at his biceps as he grinded his cock on your puffy folds. “Have I ever told you’re the perfect little wife? So fucking needy for me always, fuck. This pussy was made for me.”

“This pussy is yours,” you acquiesced, breathing hard when Naoya pulled away to peer at your body. He liked his wife to be healthy, strong and ready to carry his child whenever he wanted, and his hands squeezed your hips appreciatively.

“I exist purely to serve you, my love,” you vowed, “I have no other purpose than to make you feel good and love you. You’re my everything, the world and more.”

He’d looked at you with lust before, the desire pooling in his eyes always making you feel wanted, but this was different. Naoya would never let those cursed three words fall from his mouth, but it shone clearly in his eyes anyway. He gazed at your curves and dips so lovingly that your arousal peaked, slick coating his cock from where he was slowly teasing your cunt with his tip.

Unable to hold back any longer, Naoya flipped you over. Your breath knocked out from your chest at the sudden movement, his hands tugging at your wrist to pull you close to him. He leant back on the bed, kissing you feverishly all the while keeping you shaking on his thigh. Due to your wetness gushing, you slid down his muscular thigh, and you moaned at the contact. “As I should be,” Naoya nibbled at your lips, his harsh words contrasting the tenderness of his hold on you. “You’re nothing to me if you can’t even do something as simple as that.”

You nodded with no hesitation, fully accepting that you were purely his now – and you would honestly not have it otherwise.

Naoya helped you lift your hips up, shushing you with a slap on your ass when you stared at him nervously.

Every time Naoya fucked you, he was direct and simple. He preferred to have you on all fours where he could focus on his own pleasure, or sometimes he would rather cum upon seeing your fucked-out face, the image of your tongue lolled out while he fucked you on oblivion enough to make him nut right away.

But now he was guiding your arms around his neck, kissing the sides of your lips as if to answer your silent questions. “Sit on my cock, baby, I’ll reward you for your obedience tonight,” he said, his cock twitching as he directed your entrance right above his cock. Naoya slid you down, allowing you to feel inch by inch, thick vein upon one another – sliding inside you and stretching you out so good. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead on his, teeth locked on your bottom lip as he bottomed out.

Fuck, you’d never felt so full.

However, Naoya wasn’t pleased. He clenched his jaw and tapped your bottom lip, scolding you with his mean glare. “Don’t hold back when you scream my name, you understand? Cherish this moment – I won’t always care about your pleasure. You should thank me for this.”

“I-I will!”

Torturous. That was how you would describe it. You had never been this close to him before; not in this position and angle. Each lift of your hips caused your hardened nipples to brush over his muscular chest, his attention sorely focused on the way you bounced on his cock.

Something about holding him this close felt so intimate, breaths tangled and moans shared, along with the pleasure delivered into your bodies with the way you were rolling your hips along his length.

“Still so fucking tight for me,” he said through gritted teeth, “I love this pussy so much, fuck, you’re mine. Just mine, all mine,” Naoya eventually lost it, hooking his arms under your armpits and feet flat on the bed. You kept screaming his name like a prayer, the worship falling from your lips like a broken record driving him to fuck into you faster. He’d had enough of your pace; he’d been good enough that now it was his turn to fuck you, and you were glad he did because his fast, brutal pace was so mind-numbing.

Naoya hitched you up higher until your chin rested above his hair, your breasts right at his mouth. He sucked and bit at the soft flesh angrily, grip so tight on your hips you were hissing from the pain. At the same time, it felt so fucking good unlike everything you’ve ever felt.

“My perfect fucking wife—a quiet, compliant wife is worth more than gold, baby. You’re my fucking treasure.”

Naoya thrusted hard and deep until the bed was creaking, mattress dipped from both your weight. The room felt so foggy with your lovemaking and you tightened around him, crying as he kept hitting that sensitive spot that had you seeing stars. “I’m c-coming!” you whined helplessly, hugging your husband deep to your chest while your fingers tugging at his hair. “Naoya, please!”

“Then come for me,” he nibbled at your ear, delivering another hard slap at your ass. “I’m allowing you to. Come. Make a mess around me.”

“Oh my gosh, ugh, fuck,” you came around him hard, your orgasm making you shake. He still wasn’t done, but his breathless murmurs of close, I’m so close had you holding him tighter, whispering dirty words in his ear to assist your husband into reaching his high. The oversensitivity of him plowing into you even after you came was too much, but you took it all like the good wife you were. Biting the protests down at your tongue, you rode him to meet his hips thrust by thrust, his balls snapping at your ass. “Mmmh, I love you, I love you. I-I love you.”

“As you should, baby. You’re supposed to love me,” Naoya devoured your mindless babbling by sliding his tongue inside your mouth, his hips stilling inside for a moment. Fingers clutching desperately to him, you shut your eyes tight, cunt dripping as Naoya spilled his seed deep inside you.

You kissed him one last time in refusal to let go, but Naoya wasn’t having any of it. He was very iffy every after sex that you had no choice but to pull away from him, wincing as he pulled out.

He stumbled into the bathroom afterwards while you laid there on the soiled sheets, weakly fisting the pillow beneath you. You were so fucked out, tired after a long day of managing everything he wanted you to take care of. To be fucked good by your husband…there was truly no better way of life.

Just as you were drifting off, you felt something damp sliding over your inner thighs. You blinked sleepily at a silent Naoya, sending him a small smile as he wiped both your cum away. He left the towel inside the bathroom before he came back, sliding his white shirt over your frame and tugging a fresh pair of his boxers to your legs. Aftercare with Naoya…while it wasn’t impossible, it also wasn’t a daily occurrence. Your heart kept fluttering inside your chest, that feeling blooming harder when he slid under the sheets beside you, his strong arms pulling you taut in his chest.

His skin remained mark free. You knew Naoya hated being marked; reminding you all the time he wanted to be flawless. You respected that and pressed a deep kiss on the spot above his heart instead, madly and hopelessly in love as you traced circles on his bare chest.

You could stay like this forever, in the warmth and safety of your husband’s arms, but you still had wifely duties to fulfill. Naoya had already done his, prompting you to lean up to trace kisses at his sharp jaw, sweet and docile as ever as you asked, “Naoya…how was work today?”

“Same as usual.”

That meant he didn’t want to talk about it, so you didn’t pry further.

“You need to rest and regain your strength so you can work hard again tomorrow,” you mumbled sleepily, “I’ve already planned your meals for the next week. We’re going plant-based for a while, you need it.”

Naoya remained silent. You would’ve assumed he’d fallen asleep if it wasn’t for his hand caressing your back in a manner so gentle that seemed so alien with him, the strangeness of it all intensified when you looked up at his face, only to see that he had already been studying your features a long time before. There was an unsettled frown on his face, one that you tried to smoothen away with the pads of your fingertips. “What’s wrong, my love?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’ve already forgotten about all my worries. They don’t matter anymore,” he whispered, his voice way too soft. It fit the atmosphere, however, whatnot with the newfound intimacy that you basked in. Suddenly, Naoya cupped your cheek, utterly serious as he croaked out, “Baby.”

“Hmm.”

“Do you love me?”

You didn’t have to think twice about it. The answer would be – “Always and forever.”

However, Naoya wasn’t satisfied. He needed more, wanted to understand more, craved to find a logical reason behind your devotion to him.

“Why?” he demanded, “What is it about me you love so much?”

“Everything,” you confessed, the love so clear in your eyes that even for a small moment, Naoya felt like he understood now. “You’re perfect to me, Naoya. I’m glad you’re the one I’m spending my life with. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

“But why?”

“Because,” you giggled, “You’re handsome, you’re caring even if you don’t show it that much, you’re smart, ambitious, hardworking and the best husband I could ask for,” Naoya opened his lips, probably to ask a stupid why again, until you cut him off, silencing your odd husband with a kiss. Thankfully, Naoya gave in, relaxing at your touches. “Loving you is second nature to me. It’s not living if it’s not loving you.”

Although he didn’t – and would never say I love you – he had his own way of expressing it. He let you know that he shared the same stance at you, staring deep into your eyes while he cupped your cheek, surprisingly somber as he proudly said, “I made the right decision of marrying you.”

“I’m glad you don’t regret it.”

“I could never regret it,” he whispered back, but you had already fallen asleep. That night, you dreamt no more. There was no need to when everything you’ve ever wanted was already right there at your reach, and Naoya joined you long after, the faint linger of a loving kiss a husband only ever gave to his wife the last thing you felt before you faded off into dreamland.

[hollandsmushroom]

What about doing the same thing to the reader like your last blurb but instead of push ups she's doing squats?

Mother Fucking Squats || T.H.

this is a sequel to Mouth Fucking Pushups(one of your guys' favorites it appears lmao)

Warnings: Smut 18+, mentions of fellatio, explicit descriptions of cunnilingus

Word Count: 1,641

You and Tom often worked out together, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence and in fact it was an activity that the both of you enjoyed greatly, loving pushing each other and encouraging each other to do one more rep. There were times that the company had its downfalls, it was when his muscles looked too good underneath his shirt, much like that night a couple weeks ago when you had ended up on the floor beneath him with his dick buried deep in your throat as he did push ups, really the devolution into sex was the only downfall(if you could even call it that).

It was a beautiful Sunday and you and Tom were in your home gym, both dressed in your workout clothing which was alway something so alluring, Tom’s shorts accentuating his thighs and his tight spandex shirt showing every ridge of muscle that you wanted nothing more than to drag your teeth over, to lick the sweet sweat from his body as held his body above yours. Your mind flicking back to that night a couple weeks ago, the thought tempting you to drop your kettle bell and slide beneath Tom once again but he looked so determined, watching himself in the mirrored wall to maintain his proper form, or at least that what you thought Tom was doing, that's what it looked like to you.

In reality, Tom was watching your reflection, the way that the fabric of your legging stretched around your body as you hinged downwards into a squat, drawing your kettle bell up to your chest and letting it strike softly at the valley of your sternum, the only thing that Tom would think about was being the weight against your chest, pressing heated kisses between the mounds of your breasts, your skin sweet under his mouth. He could feel himself getting hard, the temptation for your body to be flush with his overwhelming to a point of no longer being able to fight it, dropping the dumbbell softly on the padded floor and pushing himself up into a standing position, walking over to you on his toes, careful to not make a noise louder than the music that was ringing through the room. The rounds of your ass looked so alluring to his chocolate eyes, the temptation to sink his teeth into the tensed muscle something that he had to actively fight, instead he opted to get in a position much like the one that you had been in a couple weeks ago, placing himself between your spread legs, looking up at your crotch.

“Tom, what the fuck are you doing?” you asked, stopping your movements, bending over and resting your weight on the ground, looking him in the eye, noticing the devilish glint that danced in his tree ring colored irises.

“Watching the show” his voice was playful but it was clear he was dead serious and had no intention of moving, he was going to stay there and watch how your body moved over his face, the smell of your cunt reaching his nose, enhanced by your exercise heated state, he was loving it.

“You are such a fucking boy” you giggled, returning to your work out, dipping lower so your ass was closer to Tom’s face, temptation getting the better of him as his poked your cheek.

“Correction, I am a boy who fucks” his voice was sultry, the poke turning into a full as grab before you pushed back up to a standing position, your breath having left your chest when Tom grabbed your ass so harshly.

“Are you gonna let me work out or are you gonna distract me” his hand was still on your ass, dipping down with you, following your motions.

“Haven’t decided yet” you didn’t have to look at him to know that he was smiling at you cheekily, his signature smirk that made you weak in the knees, and if you became weak in the knees now you would collapse on his face, maybe that is what he wanted. You continued going along with your squats, thighs tiring slightly as you exerted yourself. It was only about a minute later that Tom gives in, his hand that had stayed on your ass for the past minute gripping in, tugging down at the fabric until your ass was on full show, your movements having ceased as he worked to make you bare.

“Tom” you whimpered as he blew cool air on your bare cunt, dripping already from having watched him work out.

“Mhm, baby” Tom sighed, his hand running up your thigh, the side of his hand nestled in the pit between your inner thigh and your cunt, thumb dipping between your wet folds and softly tracing them, running across the ridges. “So wet,” he stopped, retracting his hand from your pussy and bringing his thumb to his lips, pressing onto his tongue and smearing your arousal across his tongue. “So sweet”

“Fuck Tommy!” your knees were shaking and he hadn't even really touched you yet, his hand was coming back up your leg but it stopped at your knee, breaking the brace you had been held in and forcing you to fall onto your knees, your cunt now hovering directly above his face.

“Reminds me of a couple weeks ago” he spoke purposefully breathy, the air fanning lightly across your hyper sensitive cunt, drawing a long plantiful whimper from your throat, your hands falling between your spread legs and raking their way through Tom’s sweaty curls, tugging from the root. You pulled so harshly his head came off the floor, forcefully burying him in your cunt, a groan escaping from his chest and vibrating through your core, an inadvertent delivery of stimulation to your clit, your back arching and head throwing back in a moan.

“Fuck fuck fuck” the cries of pleasure left your lips rapidly as his tongue snaked past his pleasure coated lips and beginning to lap at your clit, flexing his tongue as it flicked underneath the hood of your clit, savoring the way your body jolted every time he did. His arms wrapped around your thighs, pulling your as close to his face as possible, your lips spreading on his cheeks as he started to rock his head into you. His tongue left your clit, licking a hot stripe from the bundle of nerves to your entrance were he began to circle the clenched hole with his talented muscle, dipping into you and lapping up into you, his head moving with every thrust of his tongue, nose rocking against your engorged clit. It felt like heaven, there was no other way to put the sensation into words, it felt amazing and like pure euphoria.

Tom groaned something into your cunt but he was so deep in you that you couldn’t make out what he was saying, not that you would have been able to fully comprehend it even if you had, you were too lost in the dizzying amounts of pleasure that was running up your spine and winding tight in your belly.

“Oh Tom, fuck oh fuck, Tommy” You cried, your body falling forward and forcing your hands from his hair, bracing yourself on the floor, finger nails leaving crescent in the padding as your gripped into it. Your hips began to inadvertently grind against his face, riding it like you would his cock. The added pressure of your new position shoved his nose harder against your clit, the notch of his incorrectly set bone burning with friction against you as his tongue curled into your g-spot. Your toes curled with pleasure as your head fell forward, looking down to where Tom was buried and the sight of him, he messy hair and the arousal slickening your thighs and his cheeks sent you, the coil in your stomach snapping as you came on Tom’s tongue, hips stuttering against his face as you ceased ability to move, your whole body tensing as a cry of ecstasy left your lips. Tom carried you through your high, not letting up on his movement until you were shaking above him, your thighs quaking around his head as your moans turned to soft whimpers. He raised his hands, gripping your hips gently and pulling you from his face and helping you lay down next to him, your eyes meeting his for the first time since you had been doing squats, his face glistening with your cum.

“That was a great post workout snack” Tom mumbled as his fingers dragged across your cheeks, gathering the rest of your cum and arousal on his fingers before pushing them between his lips and sucking them clean, not wanting any of your sweetness to go to waist.

“That was a great workout,” you sighed, your thighs shaking as you curled into his side.

“I'm sure it was, you were really working it against my face, my nose hurts” he joked, raising his hand up and playfully rubbing at it as if it was sore.

“Oh shut up” you groaned, swatting his chest as you buried your face in his neck, hiding from his teasing eyes.

“Hey hey, no none of that, I am just teasing” he mumbled, his fingers catching your chin and pulling your face from hiding, his eyes softened from their previous playful mirth. “I love you” the words came out as a whisper and your heart was pounding, it was not a new phrase to be exchanged between the two of you but it still made you glow to hear him say it.

“I love you too, Tommy” you pecked his lips, tasting hints of yourself in his mouth. You pulled back, your tone shifting to one similar to Tom’s previous teasing one “You give good head, how could I not love you”

♡Taglist♡

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[father-time-and-baby-new-year]

OFF WITH YOUR HEAD

PART 2 OF HEADS WILL ROLL

SYNOPSIS: Whenever school is in session, Eren will just keep finding new places to corner you.

PAIRING: BULLY! EREN x FEM! READER

DEDICATED TO: you guys, always you guys.

WARNINGS: unedited, slight dubcon, groping, degradation, bullying,

WORD COUNT: 2.4K

Gooooood Morning Paradis Birds! Remember to give a big round of applause to the football team for clutching the victory against reigning champion Marley High! We stay undefeated thanks to our excellent and hardworking team. Special shoutout to Captain Eren Yeager for guiding the team to another flawless victory-

You're half-heartedly paying attention to class, sleepily listening to the school announcements over the speaker until the mention of his name douses you like a shock of ice-cold water.

You can't catch the rest of the announcement because your class erupts into cheer, enthusiastically clapping their hands for the boy of the hour.

The only one not joining is you.

Eren's smile is brighter than 100 kilowatts. In the back of your mind, you wonder where he learned to smile like that. When his emotions became so practiced.

Mr.Berner tries to calm the kids down, especially Sasha who bangs on her desks and howls, creating even more hype and ruckus. The class, now in a chattier mode, excitedly breaks into little conversations.

"Man, thank god. That school is so pretentious, I'm glad we finally have something over them."

"Jeez, I know our team was good, but it's this good-?"

"-Bro, year of XXXX is stacked as fuck. It's literally never been this stacked before. We have a whole team of prodigies, it's insane-especially Eren. "

"Yepp. My dad went to Paradis too and he said shit like this never happened during his time. The academic comps were one thing, but these footballs wins? We're being put on the fucking map."

The announcements are still going on, but it's hard to hear over the noise. You're only able to catch the tail end, a useless tidbit about the word of the day.

pre·mo·ni·tion a strong feeling that something is about to happen, especially something unpleasant. Here is an example: "She had a premonition of imminent disaster" Have a good day folks, hope it's free of any premonitions!

Overhearing the unceasing praise of the boy who pinched your thighs until they bruise blue and purple was a little painful-but you were used to it. After all, he's putting Paradis on the map. Whatever the fuck that means.

While you didn't love sharing this class with him, he was seated far across the room and surrounded by a gaggle of friends. You might as well have been invisible, the way he did not acknowledge you. Maybe you should treat it as a small mercy.

Unwittingly, your eyelids grow heavy. You're sitting in the back of the class, no one would notice if you took a little nap right? Assured by the fact no one will notice, you lower your head into your folded arms and let your thoughts float.

You dream of vaguely nothing but shadows of smiles, tufts of dark hair, and the smell of the wind at sea until a noise confined to the shape of your name breaks the harmony.

"[y/n?]"

"[y/n?]"

You startle awake with pairs of eyes piercing their gazes at you. Swallowing thickly, you apologize to Mr.Berner who looks worried. He's a good teacher, and one of your favorites.

"I'm sorry Mr.Berner. I had a migraine so I laid my head down." You lie smoothly, with more grace than you knew you were capable of. Course, you could have just said you were taking an unprompted nap, but that would disappoint your lovely teacher.

He sighs, "Guess that can't be helped then. Go to the nurse ok?"

Bingo. The nurse was an understanding lady, she'd let you sleep the rest of the period off. You nod, and start to gather your materials, relieved the class' attention on you was beginning to dwindle.

"Wait, Mr.Berner, let me take her. What if she gets disoriented and falls in the hall?"

Fuuuuck. You should have known. You should have expected this because attached to the request dripping with faux concern was none other than the precious jewel of the kingdom. Eren's intrusion makes your peers perk up again at the scene unfolding in front of them.

You smile, lips tightly pressed, "I'll be fine. I don't want to distract anyone from the lesson and it's a short walk-

"It's still potentially dangerous.", Your teacher interrupts, pinching the bridge of the nose, "And while I'm completely surprised by Eren's sudden streak of altruism, he's right. Something could happen. He'll take you there safely."

A very convenient streak of altruism, all right. You think it over in your head, yeah the nurses' office is right down the hall, and once you're there, he'll leave. Sure, he'll taunt you but you can handle a few minutes worth of cruelty.

It's awkward getting up, and walking in front of the class while Eren props the door open like a gentleman. You know what a sharp contrast it must look like, you and him, you cowering into yourself, not meeting any eyes while he stands tall and confident.

"Do you have everything?" His tone is one of reassurance, and for the barest of the moments, feels too familiar. You know he's not being genuine right now, and for the first time, you question if he was genuine back then.

"You can hold onto my arm if you're too dizzy to walk." He says as you guys slip out of the classroom, purposefully a little too loudly. You hear coos from girls and a stray "She's so lucky!"

He must have heard it too, because he lowers his head to whisper into your ear, "Yeah, very lucky, aren't you?" Wisps of dark hair tickle your cheeks. You see the glint of tiny silver hoops and wonder when he had gotten his ears pierced. The illusion breaks and the performative charming prince's reassuring smile is replaced by a sneer.

"Didn't know you could lie like that, by the way. Some good girl you are if you're trying to ditch class like this." Fingers dig deep into your waist as he drags you along the empty hallway that seems to stretch on for miles.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, "How did you know I was lying?"

Viridian eyes narrow, "I've seen you get migraines before." There's a knock on your heart. As if realizing he was talking about something far away ago, a vindictive edge laces into words pouring out of his mouth, "I bet you wanted this to happen, didn't you? Wanted to get us all alone."

He's trying to get a rise out of you, that much is obvious. So you ignore him to the best of your ability.

...which quickly proved to be futile, as you suddenly find your arm pinned to your back, and your front facing the nearest walls.

"I asked you a fucking question bitch." He's practically growling, "Fucking answer me."

If there was a world record for the shortest temper, best believe Eren Yeager will have collected that accolade too. He's getting too worked up, and you could definitely feel his harness poking the back on your ass, as he grinds into you.

You manage to crane your neck, wanting to have your face shoved into the wall, and then venomously spit out, "You're not looking for answers. You just want me to repeat whatever you think is true."

This position brings back flashbacks to the library when he caged you in against the bookshelves, and like then, he spins you around to face him quite abruptly.

His smile is full of sharp teeth, "No. I know I'm right."

You don't respond. He moves in closer, his breath fanning on your earlobes. Your body can't help but let an involuntary shudder, and you close your eyes, not wanting to see his pleased grin or the way the fluorescent light makes his hoops gleam like silver bullets.

One calloused finger flicks your nipple, "Do you want to know why I'm right?"

At your lack of response, the dark-haired boy rolls your nipple in between his fingers before pinching it painfully, eliciting a small whimper out of your fuckable lips. "N-no", you answer finally. You're wearing your thinnest bra because of the seasonal heat, and you can't help but regret that decision right now. The fact he's only paying attention to one of your nipples is driving you insane. Not that you want it, but you're so fucking sensitive right now. You struggle in his hold, causing him to hold you tighter, and by now his nails were probably embedded into your skin.

He chuckles at your honesty, rewarding you with a thick stripe of his tongue over the collared shirt of your uniform making you gasp. Did he just-, over your shirt too-, you look down and see a very visible wet spot.

Taking advantage of your distracted state, a eager hand snakes under your skirt until it settles in the middle of your panties. He licks your earlobe before speaking, his voice like ice under your heels.

"You were so fucking wet that day in the library while saying you hated me the entire time," he pauses as his fingers scissor you through your panties, as if to drive the message home, "About as wet as you are right now."

There's a wet spot there too, also caused by him. You crush your eyes shut, "Eren...please just take me to the nurse." You're not even struggling anymore, holding onto him out of your own accord, worried that if you don't hold onto anything-you'd fall on your knees.

The very headache you lied about having seemed not so non-existent after all.

Eren hooks his arms under the plush of your thighs, "Yeah. Of course, that's what I came to do, right?"

*

You had hoped you'd be granted a reprieve in the nurses' office but you'd forgotten that luck was never really in your favor. Because while you guys had entered the squeaky-clean office, the nurse was nowhere in sight.

Instead, a note sat on her desk in unassuming frilly cursive that Eren read with glee.

Sorry students! Minor emergency to take care of, and I'll be back by the middle of the next period. If you're badly hurt, see Mr.Ackerman in room 203. If not, just sit tight! Feel free to take up the beds.

Thank you,

Ms.Ral

Eren had turned to you with shining green eyes, "Since no one's here, I guess I'll have to keep you company. Don't want you to hurt yourself."

There was something claustrophobic about how Eren stood in front of the door as if to signify to get out of here, you had to get through him.

"Maybe I can get Mr.Ackerman..."

Eren's sudden bout of laughter makes you wince and retreat inside of yourself, "For what? A fake headache? You really wanna inconvenience him like that? Mr.Ackerman?"

You take slow steps backward until the back of your knees hit the school bed, making you stumble as you clumsily take a seat. Eren's been marching forward with every retreating step you took, and it's no surprise when he pushes you down the bed, strong hands on the side of your head, while his muscular legs force your thighs apart so he can settle himself in between.

"We have some time to kill, you know." Strands of dark hair fall into his eyes, and without thinking, you reach upwards to brush them aside.

He grips your wrist before you make it that far, nearly gritting out a "What are you doing?"

You just stare, not really knowing why that was your impulse either. Finally, you mouth out, "I want you to leave Eren."

The grip on your wrist is tighter than ever, and you very well know that you're going to have new finger-shaped bruises before the old ones even finish healing.

"And I want to stay." He punctuates each word slowly, and all you can think is how being pinned to a bed is much less painful than having the hard surface of wood digging onto your back.

You're fully aware of the heat in your core, and having Eren on top of you doesn't make this it any easier because fuck, he is attractive. Maddeningly so. And maybe you want him to go away so bad because you're afraid that if his fingers are caught inside of you, you'll thank him for it.

As if reading your mind, he lets go of your wrist (making a mental note of your sluggish movements and slipping resistance) and massages your warm hole from your panties.

"Eren please" You grit out. He merely chuckles, "What are you asking for, whore?"

You could feel tears threatening to fall. This was so embarrassing. Did you want this? Yes, yes. yes, yes. You were so wet right now and had enough of the teasing.

He alternated his kneading from slow and soft to fast and rough, and you couldn't help but let out the prettiest little moans Eren's ever heard. Since you lose all pretenses of resistance, his other hand roughly brushes against your hardened nipples, straining against the fabric of your shirt.

Okay, he decided. He's going to make you beg.

"Beg." It's announced like a command, and while you hear it, you don't really register it because your hips are busy chasing the heat, and it's all too much of an utter disappointment when his long thin fingers leave.

"I said beg slut."

"Eren, please, please. I need you so bad." You're blubbering and you don't care. You just want his pretty fingers to shove aside your panties and rub against your folds. You think back to the library, how wet you were, how the stupid fucking phone call from his coach interrupted him pumping his fingers inside of you. And you didn't know if you were happy or mad he left. But now, all you crave is the blissful wave of pleasure- the very pleasure he's been denying you.

Eren looks down at you, green eyes scrutinizing. After a long while of what it seems to be him just staring, he wipes his fingers on your skirt, brushes back his hair with a wayward hand.

"Looks like I should head back to class. See you later."

Too numb to say anything, you watch him leave with a smirk on his face. When you're sure he's walked away, you curl into yourself and cry.

[latetaektalk]

(he)art thief | jjk [i, preview]

“jungkook is charming, kind, smart, and funny. jungkook is the guy to fall in love with. he is perfect in every sense, except that he is also a member of a notorious heist group and only getting close to you to steal from you. but what does he do when he starts to fall for you? who does he choose? his brothers or you?

genre: heist! AU, thief! jungkook, art curator daughter! oc, ocean’s! AU, fluff, angst, sexual themes/implied smut (in later chapters)

pairing: jungkook x female reader

estimated word count: 35 to 40k

warnings: cursing/swearing, a bit of alcohol consumption

a/n: this is loosely based off the ocean’s film! to be added to the taglist, shoot me an ask/message! also, gureum is jungkook’s dog! and thank you to movie club for helping me come up with this amazing title!!

coming sunday, may 30th 2021  

Jungkook avoids playgrounds.

Does so because when he was at the tender age of just seven, he fell off a swing. He ended up in the hospital (his first but not last visit); seven stitches, his mother told him, but he could swear it was a million.

Needless to say, Jungkook has been avoiding playgrounds like the plague ever since.

But here he is, in the middle of one, dog leash in his hand, and heart pounding in his chest so violently it might just explode.

A mob of boys runs past him, all of them no older than six—which means that, for the most part at least, they’re harmless—but still, Jungkook flinches. It’s embarrassing, even more so because Gureum turns and stares at him. If one of them should flinch, it should be Gureum, with him being a dog and Jungkook a full grown adult, but God, today is just not his day. He’s stressed! Out of it! Nervous! A wreck-

“Did you just flinch?”

Jungkook feels his heart drop. Fuck, he thought he walked out of sight!

“No, I didn’t, Tae,” he hisses, pressing the earpiece further into his ear.

“You flinched! We can still see you- ah, okay, not anymore. But we saw that-”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I definitely did not flinch-”

“Denying it is pointless. We all saw it. Back me up here, Jimin.”

“You definitely flinched.”

Jungkook stops dead in his tracks, is about to walk back to the car and tell them that they must be hallucinating because he definitely did not flinch when-

“Can you see her already, Kook?” Namjoon asks and for a moment, Jungkook forgot why he is here, you.

He looks around himself, and it doesn’t take him long to find you, sitting on a bench, under a big tree, soft shadows dancing on your skin.

“Yeah, I-I see her,” Jungkook says under his breath.

“Okay, good. I’m gonna need you to focus up then,” Namjoon continues, and Jungkook nods like Namjoon could see him.

“Yeah, if you screw this up, it’s your fault if we end up in jail-”

“Tae!” Namjoon warns, and judging from the ‘ow’ that follows, someone punched him. Jungkook’s guess is Jimin.

“What? I’m just saying-”

“I knew I shouldn’t have let you come,” Namjoon mumbles and runs a hand down his face. “Hey, Kook, don’t listen to Tae, yeah? He’s just messing with you.”

“Yeah… I know,” Jungkook mutters, and he means it. He really does know that Taehyung is messing with him, but there’s a part of him that takes it to heart, that is worried sick about how he’s going to fuck this up and be the reason for why they all end up in jail.

“Don’t worry, Kook,” Jimin cuts in, taking the phone from Namjoon. “We’ve got your back. All you have to do is repeat after me, say what I say. You’ve got this. Remember what I taught you?”

“Always smile and laugh and never talk about yourself. Keep the conversation about the other person because people love talking about themselves,” Jungkook repeats, and looks at you again, heart heavy in his chest.

He shouldn’t feel like this, wishes he wouldn’t. But he can’t help it. This isn’t how he imagined he’d meet you. Jungkook thought he’d meet you at some fancy event, sipping expensive champagne, or at some luxury clothing store maxing out your parents’ credit card—after all, your mother is a world famous art curator. But instead you spend your time at playgrounds, babysitting.

There’s actually no reason for Jungkook to be this nervous. Jimin did practise with him this exact scenario, but he can’t help but think that with a flute in his hands and some alcohol buzzing through his system, he’d feel more comfortable. But here he is, in the middle of a sea of children.

“Kook, do you copy?”

“What? Sorry, I wasn’t…” Jungkook pauses. He shouldn’t admit that he wasn’t listening.

“Get your head in the game, please,” Namjoon tells him over the earpiece.

“Sorry, you’re right. I’m here,” Jungkook says and starts to walk again even though he still feels fucking lost as a goddamn adult at a playground. Gureum follows him when he tugs on the dog leash.

“Okay, good. Just- just try your best,” Namjoon says, voice a bit muffled. “You’ve got this.”

Jungkook could swear that there’s a waiver to his words.

“Don’t worry. We’re here,” Taehyung tells him before Jungkook can think about it too much, distracting him from the quiver he heard.

He stops behind a tree, close enough for Gureum to spot you, but not close enough for you to spot them. His knees crack when he kneels down to stroke Gureum’s ear.

“Hey, Gureum? I’m gonna unleash you in a second and then I’m gonna need you to run towards,” Jungkook points as discreetly as possible to you, “her, yeah? Just like we practised? Remember? Remember how you ran towards Seok and Yoongi? Do it exactly like that again, okay? If you do, I’ll get you your favourite treat.”

Gureum doesn’t run away instantly when Jungkook unclips him because he’s trained, but when he points at you and whistles, he’s gone.

You react surprisingly calm to a dog barreling towards you, barely flinching. You lean down and greet Gureum.

“Approaching target now,” Jungkook mumbles quietly and can only faintly register how Namjoon tells Taehyung to be quiet from now on, all of his attention on the mission now.

With the leash in his hand, Jungkook jogs towards you, heaving extra hard to sell the act of a dog-owner-who-has-been-chasing-his-dog-for-the-last-ten-minutes to you.

You look up to him when he stops in front of you, eyeing him. Jungkook stands there, bend over, his hands on his knees, breathing like he’s struggling to catch his breath.

“Uh…. hi,” you start, brows pinched together.

Jungkook puts on his most charming smile, ignoring his thumping heart to the best of his abilities.

“Hi.”

“Oh, we’re starting- okay, showtime: I’m sorry, are you okay? My dog- he just ran and I couldn’t stop him. I’m so sorry,” Jimin says in his ear.

“I-I’m so sorry.” There’s a quiver to Jungkook’s voice, and it isn’t on purpose. “Are you okay? He just ran and I-”

“It’s fine,” you tell him with a small smile, still petting Gureum who has clearly taken a liking to you. During practise with Seokjin and Yoongi, Gureum always ran back to Jungkook, but now he’s staying at your feet, relishing in your pets. “Is that your dog?”

“Yes, yes, it is. I’m so sorry. I just unleashed him for a second, but then he ran away and I couldn’t catch up with him. Are you okay?”

“Yes, and I’m so sorry. I just unleashed him for a moment, thinking it was okay, but-”

“Can you prove it?” you interrupt and Jungkook pauses. “I mean that it’s your dog. It’s just that he isn’t really reacting to you, you know?”

Jimin’s response comes a bit late. “Oh, yes, I can. His name’s Gureum and he is- what’s the breed of your dog again? I don’t remember. If you look at his collar, you’ll see I’m telling the truth.”

“Oh, yeah, I can,” Jungkook smiles, wiping the non existent sweat from his temple. “His name’s Gureum and he’s a white Maltese dog. If you look at his collar, you’ll see that I’m not lying.”

You actually look at the collar and part of Jungkook is offended that you don’t just believe him. Does he look like a liar to you? “Actually, I have pictures too-”

“No, no, it’s fine. I believe you,” you say before gesturing for Gureum to go back to Jungkook. He does, but somewhat reluctantly and Jungkook doesn’t know how to interpret this.

“Ask her if she’s okay again.”

“Are you really okay?” Jungkook says and offers you a smile the way Jimin taught him to. “I really am sorry about-”

“It’s fine,” you tell him and wave him off. “Nothing happened. Don’t worry about it. Just leash your dog.”

And then, you turn away from him. Jungkook stands there awkwardly for another moment before kneeling down to Gureum, absentmindedly petting him, mind filled with questions because what now? How does he communicate to the others that you turned away from him? That the conversation has ended and he has no idea how to start it again?

“What’s going on Kook? Is she smiling-”

“Ah, Gureum, no,” Jungkook cuts in. “Don’t turn away- I can’t leash you if you do that. Don’t turn away.”

“Oh, shit, she turned away, huh?”

“What now, Jimin?”

“Shush, Joon. Let me think, yeah?”

Jungkook fiddles with the leash like he has a problem clipping it, hoping that maybe you’re going to offer him your help. You don’t. And why would you? He’s an adult after all.

Before Jimin can come up with anything though, the solution to the problem presents itself. It comes in the form of a girl running and tripping right next to Jungkook and him catching her just in time before she can faceplant in the dirt and scrape her knees open.

“Oh, hey, careful here!” Jungkook brings the girl back up on her two feet. She stares at him with big eyes, and he recognises her from the pictures. It’s Siyeon, the seven year old girl you babysit regularly, the reason why you’re spending your afternoon at a playground today. ”You okay?”

“Kook, what’s happening right now?” Namjoon asks.

Siyeon looks at you, and you’re already kneeling beside her, fixing her hair.

“Siyeon, I told you not to run. See, you almost fell now!” You say it the same way a mother would, less strict though. “If he hadn’t caught you, you would have hurt yourself, wouldn’t you have? Now, what do you say?”

“T-thank you,” Siyeon mumbles, and Jungkook isn’t sure if she’s staring at her hands because she’s embarrassed or just about to cry.

“Who’s that? Who are you talking to? Who’s he talking to?”

“Was that a kid?”

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks Siyeon, ignoring Namjoon and Taehyung to the best of his abilities.

“Y-yes, thank you.” She won’t look at him.

Jungkook smiles. “Well, I’m happy that you didn’t get hurt there.”

“Kook, answer please. Do you need help?”

“Should we interfere?”

Jungkook’s about to snap. Does it seriously sound like he needs help? He’s talking to a seven year old, for fuck’s sake! Sure, he didn’t practise this scenario, but God, he was capable of improvising!

“Thank you. She’s really clumsy,” you say to Jungkook.

“Ah, don’t worry about it. I’m like that too. After all, I let,” he looks down at Gureum and finishes his sentence by gesturing to him and then you. You laugh.

And that’s when Siyeon seems to notice Gureum for the first time, eyes growing big at his sight like she has never seen a dog before. A chance.

“His name’s Gureum. You wanna-”

“Do you think we should go over there? See if he’s okay?”

And with that, Jungkook snaps. Yoongi is going to give him an earful for destroying his oh so precious equipment, but he can’t do this any longer with Jimin, Namjoon and Taehyung in his ear. So in one smooth movement, Jungkook digs out the earpiece and crushes it between his fingers, hiding it in his hand.

“Sorry, a fly, I think,” Jungkook says, swatting at his ear, and before you can think about it, he moves on. “Do you wanna pet Gureum, S- Is it okay if I call you Siyeon?”

Siyeon stares at Jungkook like he can’t believe he just asked her that. It’s probably the first time an adult has asked her for permission to call her by her name, and she seems to appreciate it immensely because she beams at him and gives him a huge nod.

“Okay, Siyeon, do you maybe wanna pet Gureum? He doesn’t bite, I promise.” Jungkook can feel your eyes on him. He’s doing it, charming you!

Siyeon turns to you.

“Can I-?”

You hum. “If Gureum is okay with it-”

Siyeon kneels down. “Hello, Mr Gureum. Sir, can I please pet you?”

Jungkook melts, and so do you.

Receiving no response from Gureum, Siyeon looks back up to you. Jungkook quickly takes his paw and waves. “Hello, Mrs Siyeon, if you promise not to hurt me, you can pet me. I like it especially if humans pet me at the back of my head. Just, please, be nice to me.”

In all of the years he has had Gureum, Jungkook has never tried to imagine what his voice would sound like, but he knows for a fact that he doesn’t sound like a chain smoker. It’s a questionable choice, but he doesn’t regret it. Because not only does it make Siyeon laugh, it also elicits a chuckle from you.

You look at him with a grin. “I don’t think I’ve introduced myself yet, have I?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Jungkook says, and you two rise to your feet when Siyeon starts to pet Gureum and he doesn’t bite her.

“Well,” you stretch out your hand, “I’m Y/N.”

Jungkook swallows the ‘I know’ that wants to slip him and takes your hand. He has to stop himself from bursting with pride, only allowing his smile to grow into a blinding grin.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he says, and he means it. It’s really nice to meet you. “I’m Jungkook.”

coming sunday, may 30th 2021

[fairyoftbz]

insecurities | l. juyeon

🧸 pairing: idol!juyeon x (insecure) fem!reader 🧸 word count: 2.7k 🧸 genre: angst, fluffy end 🧸 tw: mentions of insecurities, doubts 🧸 a/n: sorry i forgot to post, i had a busy day and im exhausted, i hope it's gonna be enough! 🧸 requested: yes! thank you, it is very cliché but i hope this is what you had in mind! 💝

╰☆☆☆☆╮

Juyeon came home tired but happy, excited to see you again after a long day of intense practice and a show where he participated as an MC. You, on the other hand, were not as happy as he was, but you were for sure tired of something.

You couldn’t deny it, dating Juyeon had positive points, he was everything you could ask for in a man, but there were just as many negative points. He was an attractive, sweet gentleman, and it was almost impossible for him not to attract other girls, not even doing it on purpose. And it was one of your many insecurities even if you considered yourself pretty, you couldn’t help but get insecure every time he talked to someone else.

Because let’s be honest, in the Korean music industry, every single woman looks like an absolute goddess. So, when he interacts with someone, and they’re a bit too friendly, your heart pinches in pain as he gives them the smile he keeps for you and you only.

You think that they are more interesting, prettier and funnier than you, which has the ability to send your thoughts to the dark side of self-consciousness, not feeling pretty or enough next to those women. And tonight, it was hard to watch on National TV your boyfriend being extremely friendly with the other MC.

You had tried to comfort yourself that it was just a mask, that he had to look friendly and handsome on TV. However, you couldn’t help feeling disappointment and anger as he gave attentive eyes to the other MC as she explained something, his eyes falling on her lips pressed against the mic.

Juyeon walks through the main door, tossing his keys on the chest of drawers, getting rid of his jacket and shoes before joining you in the living room, happy to see that you were watching the same channel he appeared on. Eyes glued on the screen, your thumb rubbed against your lips, feeling the skin of the cuticles you scratched while watching your boyfriend feeling rough against your lips.

“Hi love,” he said as he sat next to you, pressing his lips on your cheek. You didn’t react, only emitting a slight hum as he sat comfortably.

Juyeon frowned but didn’t raise your bad mood, trying to think what was going on inside your head. Maybe you had a bad day, or you were just tired, despite scratching his head and think, he couldn’t pinpoint what had brought you in such a bad mood.

“Did you have fun?” you bitterly spat, and Juyeon’s eyes widened, surprised by your tone, the wrinkle on his forehead deepening as his brows furrowed at your attitude.

“I did. Are you mad or something?” he bluntly asked, and you sighed, taking the remote to turn the TV off, falling in an unpleasant, uncomfortable silence.

“Oh no, I’m super fine. I really enjoyed my boyfriend giving heart eyes to another girl on national TV, it was such a nice thing to watch,” you bitterly chuckled, and Juyeon’s eyes widened even more, not expecting you to pull out the jealousy card on that.

“Babe, what are you talking about? You know-”

“Please, spare me your fake confusion and lame excuses, I clearly saw what I saw. My eyes never deceive me,” you said while standing up, but Juyeon was quick to imitate you and grab your wrist to prevent you from walking away. You tried to free yourself from his grip, but he only tightened his hand around it.

“Juyeon, let me go,” you said through clenched teeth, trying to prevent the tears from escaping your eyes. Breaking down was the last thing you wanted to do in this situation.

“Not before you explain to me what this fuss is all about,” he said, irritation replacing confusion in his eyes. You let out a mocking scoff, your eyes filled with anger and disdain boring into your boyfriend’s, holding eye contact for a few seconds.

“You really think I’m this dumb? I clearly saw the eyes you gave to the other MC when you were both animating the show. Cracking jokes, giving her smiles that could outshine the sun, your eyes ogling her lips when she was talking or smiling. Did you really think I wouldn’t catch that?” you raised your voice, letting anger take over your body.

“I never did all of that, I don’t know what you are insinuating,” he spat, trying not to show it, but your words hurt him, hating the fact that you could imagine him cheat on you or fancy another girl.

“Go on social media then, you will see what I am ‘insinuating’! Everyone is already talking about how whipped you are and how cute of a couple you would look together. Some fans are even starting to make edits!” you shouted, shoving your phone in your hoodie’s front pocket.

Juyeon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to calm his nerves a bit, a gesture that had the ability to enrage you even more. Your family used to do that when they found you annoying or wanted to belittle you, and now seeing Juyeon doing the exact same thing as them really made you even more insecure about this whole situation. Your family made you feel like a real burden during your childhood and teen years that it hurt you to think that Juyeon was probably agreeing with that thought right now.

“Y/N, I don’t know what you are talking about. I was just trying to be nice, I can’t be rude or it’s mine and the group’s reputation that I’ll take down with me-”

“No it’s okay, no need to explain yourself, the message was very clear,” you said, and you finally freed yourself from his grip, your heart breaking as Juyeon sighed in annoyance again, seeing him almost roll his eyes.

“It’s not what I meant, and you know it. Don’t react like that, please,” he started, but you waved your hand in front of you.

“No, no, I got it, you-”

“Y/N, for the love of God, stop being so fucking insecure, it’s getting so fucking annoying at this point! I can’t do anything without you getting fucking doubtful, start having faith in me and in this relationship, dammit!” your eyes widened as Juyeon eventually snapped, his mouth slowly closing as he stared at you, realisation hitting him that his words and tone made a lot of damage once he saw the tears gather in your eyes and roll down your cheeks.

The couch separated the two of you, creating the illusion of a painful wall that made you shiver, feeling like your apartment had lost all of its warmth on the spur of the moment. His words were brutal, and they bounced around your skull, your head turning towards the corridor to swallow the lump forming in your throat, trying not to break down in front of him.

“Y/N, I’m-”

“Leave me alone,” you replied, voice wavering as you walked out of the living room, slamming the bedroom door shut before locking it.

Juyeon sighed and carded his hands through his dark locks, closing his eyes as he thought of the words that had escaped his mouth too quickly. He cursed under his breath as the living room fell into a deafening silence, his hands linked at the back of his neck as he thought of what just happened.

“Why did I say that,” he muttered under his breath and collapsed on the couch, unlocking his phone and scrolling on social media to try and momentarily forget your beautiful face painted with a hurtful expression because of him, but it was to no avail.

He saw what you saw; the fiction, the edits, the collages, he saw and read everything. He already hated seeing you cry and being hurt, but he actually loathed himself for being such an idiot and not comfort you about the whole situation with what was happening on every social platform.

His heart shattered in millions of pieces as he pictured you crying in your shared bed, holding the stuffed animal he got you for your anniversary tight against your chest, letting you drown in your insecurities and intrusive thoughts. He loved you very much, but despite him trying to remind you every single day, your intrusive thoughts always managed to get the upper hand when you found yourself hanging out on your own or with some friends. It was as if your brain shut out everyone who tried to reassure you or make you feel better, letting you drown and struggle in your sorrow.

Yes, the other idols were pretty, but they were nothing compared to you. Juyeon had only eyes for you and cared about you and, of course, his members, but never had he thought about leaving you for someone else. His intentions were just to sound and appear nice and welcoming on TV because he knew that some fans, antis and media wouldn’t hesitate a second to bash him on different platforms and articles for his rudeness and insensitivity towards his idol colleague. And not only would he break his reputation, but also the group’s, and that’s the last thing he wanted.

However, he also understood that it was something hard to watch for you, even if he reminded you every single day that you were the only one that mattered in his eyes.

Sitting on the couch, he started reflecting, putting himself in your shoes for a second. How would he have reacted if he saw you being super friendly and affectionate to another man? Someone more handsome, nicer than him, cracking jokes here and there to see you smile and laugh.

He tossed his phone on the couch space next to him, where he wished you were instead of crying yourself in your shared bed, watching the device bounce, collide with the armrest and fall on the ground. He didn’t even fret checking if the screen cracked, head too high in his thoughts to bother.

Resting his elbows on his knees, he pressed his joined hands against his mouth, tongue poking his inner cheek as he realised he had really messed everything up. His knee started bouncing at the disgusting thought of losing you, perfectly knowing that he had to do something before you could slip through his hand like grains of sand.

Juyeon stood up and knocked on the bedroom door, softly calling for your name.

“Y/N?” he asked, and you didn’t respond, faintly hearing you cry on the other side of the wall. “Go away, please,” your strained voice barely making it to his ears, his fingers drumming against the surface of the door in frustration.

From your side of the bed, still holding that teddy bear close to your chest, you let your tears damp the top of its head, feeling the exhaustion of crying kicking in. Juyeon didn’t knock another time, trying not to push your buttons too much to save his chances to talk to you.

You heard a small thud on the lower part of the door, frowning as you wondered what it was. Deep breathings filled in the silence lingering in the corridor, selfishly feeling a bit relieved that you weren’t the only one hurt in this situation. Juyeon was a smart, tolerant man, he knew when to put his pride aside and not blame you for something you said or did. Well, it’s not the case for this time, and it’s probably exhaustion that spoke for him, and that, of course, doesn’t excuse anything, but he wanted to apologise and make up for everything.

“I know you probably don’t want to see me or hear my voice after what I’ve told you, but I really want to apologise for what I’ve said,” you held your breath to hear his faint, low voice on the other side of the door. You sat up and felt dizzy for a quick second, still holding the teddy bear against your chest, your face buried in its head as you let the tears keep rolling on your cheeks.

“I know it’s hard to date me, and I’m really sorry, I wish we had a simpler life, where we could hang out and go on dates like two normal people. It’s also hard for me to not be the type of boyfriend everyone wishes to have, but I’m so damn grateful to call you mine.” Juyeon marked a pause and ruffled his hair, pushing the front pieces away from his hair while thinking of his following words.

“I… you don’t know how much I’m sorry for using your insecurities against you. I shouldn’t have, it was the dumbest move I could ever do, but I just didn’t know what to answer. You are so pretty, so beautiful, amazing, and absolutely wonderful to have around to me, so seeing you this insecure makes me mad every time you compare yourself to someone you think looks prettier, thinner, or more perfect than you. It’s... really frustrating because I try my best to make you feel like a goddess and worth it every day, but those unrealistic society standards and god damn social media make you feel like you are not worth an ounce of love,” he took in a big breath and raised his knees upwards, letting his forearms rest on them.

You slowly opened the door behind him and dropped the teddy bear by his side, letting him know of your presence. He was quick to notice it and turn around to hug your legs tightly, your hands finding their way in his hair and started massaging his skull.

“I’m so sorry, Ju,” you faintly whispered, and he breathed in deeply against your skin as if he finally found you again after being separated from you for years.

He grabbed your cherished stuffed animal and stood up, holding it against your chest with a tender smile. He sat you down on the bed and gave you a proper hug, mouth pressing loving kisses on your forehead and temple as his hand caressed the back of your head, holding you as close to him as possible.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I really am. I love you so, so much, I’m really sorry for all the stupid words I’ve thrown at you,” he said, and you shook your head, squeezing your arms around his middle tightly as an answer.

“I guess I have to accept that you have eyes only for me. But you know, it’s hard to acknowledge it and believe it when you find everyone around you ten times more beautiful than you are,” you mumbled against his chest as you sat on his lap, and he nodded, feeling a lump rising in his throat.

“I know Y/N, I know. I wish I could rid you of those insecurities, my heart breaks each time I see you so unsure of yourself. You're just so beautiful and amazing, it honestly kills me to see you like this,” he whispered, and you bitterly chuckled, gently pulling away to look at him with pearly eyes, his arms around you holding you still tight, making sure that you wouldn’t go too far from him.

“You can’t do that, but maybe you can help me soothe them by keeping loving me the way you’ve done since day one,” you mumbled, and he smiled, his eyes shining with tears just like yours.

You both cupped each other’s face and sadly smiled at the other, Juyeon feeling comforted at the sensation of your thumbs wiping the tears away from his cheeks and vice versa.

“We just need time, love, but I promise I’m going to help you realise how much you mean to me and how beautiful you are. And how much I don’t care about other girls,” he mumbled, and he gently drew your face closer to his, your lips grazing against his mouth. You closed your eyes at the proximity, feeling so much love and passion in his kiss that it was getting hard to breathe.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” Juyeon pulled away from your lips and whispered against your mouth, his hot breath mixing with yours.

“I love you too,” you smiled, burying your face in his neck, your boyfriend kissing the crown of your head while hugging you tight.

You giggled as Juyeon applied pressure on your waist, making you fall on your side on the bed. His hand gently cradled your cheek, thumb caressing your cheekbone with a soft smile on his face. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead against his, feeling him chuckle and gently press his lips against yours.

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Green (Bucky x Reader)

Word Count: ~3k

***Warnings*** : Graphic and explicit consensual non-consent. It’s all pre-negotiated roleplay, but it includes fighting, struggling, spitting, scratching, the whole nine yards. 

A/N: The companion fic to Red. You do not need to read that first; this stands on its own. However, without that as an introduction, there’s no obvious indication until about two-thirds into the fic that what’s happening is consensual. 

More on this in another note at the end, but thanks to @thoughtslikeaminefield​ @fangirlxwritesx67​ @katwillrise​ @mskathywriteswords​ @cracksinthewalls​ @littlegreenplasticsoldier​ @stunudo​ and the rest of the Slack squad for helping me sort out my feelings about “dark” fic, and for being a safe space to talk through stuff like this. This was really fucking difficult for me to write, but I’m glad I did. 

You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

- From “Wild Geese,” by Mary Oliver

It’s just like any other Friday night, until it’s not. 

One moment I’m turning on the light in the entryway, hanging up my coat — next there’s a prickle down my spine, some primal reptile-brain instinct — 

Run! Now! 

— but there’s no time to recognize it for what it is. My body isn’t in the habit of being threatened; my body is tired and lazy, moving on autopilot through the comforting routine of Friday night. In the heartbeat between instinct and action, he pounces. 

The hand over my mouth is metal: unyielding, unliving, chilling me down to my core, and if it wasn’t for the heat of the rest of his body all down my back, I wouldn’t assume he was human. His right arm is around my ribs, locking me in place, and it feels feverish in contrast but it’s trapping me as securely as if it was iron. 

I can’t reconcile the cool metal against the human warmth, or the awful metallic tang mingled with the barely-there whiff of sweat. My mind is moving all jerky and slow. I can’t make sense of this. 

Doesn’t matter, though, because I’m trapped anyway, like a wild animal in a snare. Trying to make sense of it won’t change the fact that vicious iron jaws snapped shut around me. 

It was just like any other Friday night.

Panic clutches around my lungs all at once, adrenaline flooding in, and everything in me screams, fight back. 

I thrash and squirm in his grasp, but he has my arms pinned down at my sides, and I’m small and helpless against the solid wall of muscle that is his chest. My raw strangled gasps come out as tiny hitched sobs, muffled by metal, barely audible in the still half-dark entryway of my apartment. He leans back, hefting me up so that my feet don’t quite touch the floor any more, like I weigh nothing, and takes a few steps away from the door. 

“Don’t make a sound,” he snaps, before spinning me around, slamming me back against the wall and pinning me there with his metal hand at my throat. 

Panic makes everything sharper. It’s too sharp, sharp like the shadows cast by the angles of his jaw and cheekbones, sharp like the way he’s watching me with pale hard eyes. 

“Why — why are you here?” 

He tilts his head, considering me. 

“I was sent,” he says simply, in a low rasp of a voice. 

“What do you want?” 

Something cracks open in his eyes, like a tectonic shift bringing magma to the surface, and then the strangest expression spreads slowly over his features, fierce hunger and wild terror all at once. Fear splinters like lightning down my spine. 

“Take off your clothes,” he says quietly. “Let me see you.” 

I lash out with both hands, ready to claw at his eyes, but with his arm outstretched, he’s just out of my reach; when I scratch and slap at the metal wrist, he doesn’t even seem to notice, and when I strain against his grip, I only succeed in choking myself. Black spots dance across my vision, and I draw ragged wheezing breaths, clutching uselessly at the sleeve of his black leather jacket, still twitching and twisting feebly. 

At least he can’t undress me with one hand, I think, for one absurd second. 

Then his free hand twitches down to his side, and he’s raising a knife. Dark oxidized metal gleams in his fingers. I freeze, staring at the wickedly honed edge of it as he brings it closer, holding it up at eye level before lowering it slowly. 

The tip hooks under the first button of my blouse, and when he flicks the blade upward, the fabric separates like it’s nothing. I barely dare to breathe as he cuts my shirt open, one button at a time, with surgical precision. The knife is so close to my skin that one wrong move could slice into me. 

When the ruined remains of my blouse gape open, he lowers the blade, ready to cut through the waistband of my skirt, and my frayed nerves snap. 

“Don’t,” I blurt out. “I’ll do it. I’ll cooperate.” 

I unzip it, trying to step out of it without moving my head, still trapped by the constant silent threat of his fingers around my throat. 

He sheathes the knife so that he can push my shirt roughly down my arms. My bra straps follow; he tugs them down my shoulders and reaches around to pop the clasp open, and when it falls, he pauses, licking his lips as he gazes up and down my body, taking in the revealed skin. 

There’s a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes when they meet mine for a long, frozen moment. He draws a breath like he’s about to say something, and his grip loosens a fraction. 

I’m not done fighting. 

I spit in his face, and when he flinches, I wrench myself away, twisting out of his grasp, bolting down the hall toward the bedroom door. 

Just as I wonder whether he’s reconsidered, whether he’ll let me go, he snarls, “You’ll regret that.”

I go down hard and fast when he tackles me, barely getting my arms out in time to break my fall, and the impact sends a flash of pain through one elbow but there’s no time to think about that — no time to feel it — not when I’m thrashing and kicking and squirming — but he’s too strong, too heavy — I almost writhe away but then he rolls me onto my back — pins me, sitting on my thighs — and my fists are swinging, flailing uselessly against his face and shoulders, but he doesn’t even seem to notice — and I let out a desperate sob as I realize I’m helpless again. 

I want to scream, but there isn’t enough breath in my lungs. 

He shuffles up on his knees until he’s straddling my waist, looming over me, blocking out everything else, and he snatches my wrists as I beat my fists against his stomach and chest. His lip curls, baring his teeth in a feral approximation of a smile, and he gathers my wrists together so he can hold them in the bruising circle of his metal fingers. 

Flesh fingertips dig cruelly into the hinge of my jaw, forcing it open, and he leans forward to spit into my open mouth — something twists and clenches deep in my gut as I sputter and choke, skin crawling with disgust. 

“Not so nice, is it?” he sneers, sitting back on his heels. 

Worn black denim stretches over muscular thighs as he shifts, drawing attention to the fact that he’s hard — the thick shape of his cock is obvious, straining against the fabric.  

My eyes snap back to his face, but it’s too late. He chuckles, throaty and smug, and then he rubs himself through his jeans, squeezing roughly, making it impossible to ignore his arousal. 

“Is that what you want?” he asks — taunts — and I shake my head frantically, throat too tight to speak. He smirks and drops his hand to my chest, tweaking one nipple hard enough to make me yelp. He shrugs off his jacket, letting it fall, and light catches the dark metal plates of his arm. 

Hot stinging tears well up and roll down my temples, blurring my vision, but not before I see his fingers on the button of his jeans, popping it open. 

“No,” I choke out. “No. Please, please, please —” 

He has to move to shove his jeans down, has to let me go for a moment — a fresh wave of adrenaline surges up with sickening speed, and I scramble back, twist, flop onto my stomach — it’s graceless and uncoordinated but I’m not giving in, not yet. I’m army-crawling out from under the cage of his body and I’m almost free — almost — but before I can get up on my hands and knees he’s yanking my panties down. 

Panic rises to a crescendo. 

I shriek — thin and pathetic even to my own ears — too frantic to even see straight, and then my breath is punched from my lungs as his hand slams down between my shoulderblades and crushes me to the cold hard floor. I curl an arm around my head protectively, burying my face in the crook of my elbow, and I whimper into the dark space it makes, trying to hide from what’s about to happen. 

My body is vibrating with tension like a rubber band about to snap, every muscle clenched so tight it hurts, and when I feel the blistering-hot pressure of his cock between my thighs I almost snap. 

“Struggle all you want,” he growls. “Won’t make a difference.” 

And it doesn’t make a difference. He shoves, and after a split-second of resistance he’s slamming into me with skull-rattling force. He grunts as he grinds in, working himself into me as deep as he can be. 

The weight lifts from my upper back, and I suck in a desperate breath, only to sob it out again as he braces himself on his left hand and tangles the right in my hair. It stings, but somewhere along the line I’ve lost the ability to feel pain as pain; it’s only another sensation, and it’s eclipsed completely by the flint-to-tinder flare as he starts to move. 

I bite my lip so hard I taste blood, but I can’t hold back a moan. 

It’s too much, too fucking much, he’s too big, wrenching me apart, taking up every bit of space inside me and forcing me to accept the intrusion. There’s no rational thought left beyond I can’t take this. 

There’s nothing rational about it, though. 

Something catches and sparks — ignites — and wildfire licks up my spine before bursting out through every inch of me. It’s going to burn me alive, and there’s nothing I can do about it. 

There’s nothing wrong with it, I try to tell myself, but shame slithers through my belly anyway. 

I’ve never been this wet in my entire fucking life. 

I’m breathing fast and panicked, I’m naked and squirming on the gritty floor, and it’s humiliating, and it hurts… but friction is friction, and my traitor of a body is slick and eager even though my rational brain is screaming for it to stop. 

“Stop,” I choke out. “Stop, don’t —” 

“Don’t what? Don’t make you come? Don’t make you admit how much you like this? Not fightin’ back any more, are you?” 

I sob and shudder, squeezing helplessly around him. “Please.” 

“Shit, can feel you gettin’ close — gotta see this,” he says, panting harshly, and then he’s pulling out, grabbing at my shoulder to flip me onto my back. 

He hooks an arm up under my knee to open me up and drives in deep again, and I spasm around him, spine arching so forcefully my head slams back against the floor. He’s wild-eyed and wrecked, but he stops for the space of a jagged-edged inhale, pausing, slack-jawed with shock when I look dazedly up at him. 

“Green,” I breathe, and slap him across the jaw with a crack. 

He moans and surges forward all at once, hips snapping down, and the pleasure-pain coils tighter inside me, ratcheting up to new impossible heights.  

I’m not going to stop fighting — not now, not ever, no matter how good it feels. I hit and scratch and claw, and when my nails catch on his cheek he gasps, rhythm faltering for the first time. 

He’s scorching-hot, steely-hard, every thrust a solid filthy smack against my skin, a vicious stretch pushing me to my limit — and it hurts, it hurts, but the adrenaline makes the pain feel faint and distant, and the pleasure is raw and immediate and building (faster by the second) into something inescapable. 

I can feel it starting to overwhelm me. My muscles are seizing up, but I’m fighting back on pure animal instinct, still. I grab him by the throat with one hand, pull his hair with the other, and his face is the last thing I see before my world dissolves: cheek bleeding from a rough scratch, features contorted, mouth open in a wide red O that’s somehow, unmistakably, a smile. 

Bucky is breathing just as hard as I am, when I swim to the surface again.

 We’re both drawing deep wet gulps of air, gasping on each exhale. I twine my arms around his neck limply, resting one palm between his shoulders so I can measure the rise and fall of his lungs. 

I can’t bring myself to open my eyes, but I feel everything: every little tremor and twitch that goes through him, the slick warm tickle of aftershocks as he starts to go soft inside me. His face is buried against the side of my neck, and his right hand cups my cheek, so very gentle, thumb stroking my temple and wiping away tears. He kisses me softly where my pulse hammers under the skin. 

My heart is racing, beating against my ribs like a wild bird caught in a cage, but my head seems very far away from the mess of my body.

I whimper when he pulls back, but he doesn’t go far, not yet — I can hear the barely-there rasp of fabric as he shifts. 

“Can’t believe you’re still wearing pants,” I mumble, slurring like I’m drunk. 

“Wearing is a generous word,” he says flatly. 

It’s a weak impersonation of his usual deadpan snark, but I let out a cracked giggle, and for a hysterical second I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop giggling. 

Bucky whispers, “Gonna get you up now, okay?”

He slides his hand under my head, cradling the back of my skull, and kisses my sweaty forehead before gathering me in his arms. He sits up carefully, pulling me against his chest and letting me burrow into the soft cotton of his t-shirt. 

Then there’s a disorienting swoop of motion that means he’s standing up. I feel fragile and strange as he walks, like something inside me will break if it’s jostled, but I trust him to keep me safe. He nudges the barely-open bedroom door with his hip, easing us through it, and behind my closed lids the quality of the darkness changes as he steps toward the soft golden glow of my bedside lamp.

“Not going anywhere, just going to put you down for one second,” he warns me. 

The comforter is already pulled back when he settles me on the bed, and he pulls it up around me, wrapping me up. 

“Water,” he says quietly, holding the glass to my lips, and I sip carefully. “Juice? Something sweet?” 

I shake my head. “Not yet.” 

He steps back. I hear the soft thump of his shirt and jeans dropping to the floor, the click of his dog tags as he puts them back on, and then he’s sliding into bed next to me. I shift closer and trace the chain around his neck, touching the familiar imprint of letters in the metal. 

My swollen lids are heavy when I open my eyes, and they sting when I finally look up at him, taking in his puffy parted lips and the red line of dried blood on his cheek where I scratched him. It’s already healing, it’ll be gone within a couple hours, but I brush my finger over it anyway, making an apologetic face. 

“It’s okay,” he says softly. He clears his throat and swallows hard. “I’m the one who — I’m so sorry.” 

I shake my head. “Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry about. It was…” 

I don’t know how to finish that sentence; I shrug, helpless, dizzy with the enormity of getting exactly what I wanted — of getting what I never thought I’d be able to ask for, let alone have. 

His lashes are wet, his eyes shining in the low light, and that’s when it really starts to sink in. I shiver, and then I can’t stop shivering, and I curl forward, burying my face in his chest. 

It’s hard to believe that the world is still turning and even harder to believe that he’s still here. 

“God, sweetheart, you were incredible,” he whispers, voice breaking, wrapping me up in his arms and kissing the top of my head. 

Shuddery, convulsive sobs wrack my body, one after another, and I don’t try to hold them back even though they’re so powerful I’m afraid they’ll crack my ribs on the way out. The tears are nothing to be ashamed of. It’s more like they’re physical evidence of shame leaving my body, purging it with each ugly sound wrenched from my throat. 

I never would’ve said it out loud if we hadn’t stumbled into his violent fantasies. There’s nothing wrong with you, I told him, and I sounded so sure, but I still had a hard time believing it about myself. My rational mind knew that it was natural… but it was like knowing that the person who grabbed me tonight was the same man holding me now — it was like knowing he would never hurt me, but feeling my body panic anyway. 

Bucky holds me, crooning nonsense fragments against my hair, until it subsides.  

I sit up enough to look at him, and I’m conscious of how blotchy and swollen my face must be, but I let him brush away my tears. I feel soft and raw inside where I’d been holding all that guilt. Everything is starting to ache. 

“God, we’re a mess,” I say thickly. He lets out a huff of laughter. 

“I love you,” he blurts out. His eyes go a little wide, like that wasn’t what he intended to say. 

“I love you too,” I say, wobbly but warm, and I duck my head again, resting with my ear over his chest to hear his heartbeat. 

His sigh is long and shaky. 

“Yeah, we’re a mess,” he whispers. “Feels good though. Feels human.” 

fin. 

N.B: If you’ve spent any amount of time around my masterlist, you probably will have noticed that one of my favorite subjects is the shame people (especially women) frequently feel about sex in general and their fantasies in particular. I also really love writing enthusiastic consent, and so in a way this is very different from anything I’ve written before. 

I have trouble with the way a lot of fanfiction seems to glorify coercive or under-negotiated dom/sub scenes, and most so-called “dark” fic is triggery for me in its oversimplification of things like rape fantasies; they’re normal and common and natural, but frequently the way they’re written has the same flat, male-gaze approach as a lot of exploitative porn, which I hate. Rape has never been a fantasy for me personally (although it has been an actual life experience) but my #1 fantasy is finding the sort of trust and partnership and support that would make this sort of roleplay emotionally safe. I also just felt compelled to tackle the challenge of writing about something that is often considered so shameful, and writing about it in a way that neither romanticizes or demonizes it. 

So. Yeah. In case you need a reminder: don’t punish your body for what it wants. 

(If you liked this, please reblog or leave a message?) 

[chuckbass-love]

20,39,42 with Andy Barber?

Hey, lovely anon. First of all i hope you’re doing well and second of all, i thoroughly enjoyed writing this and i hope y’all have a lot of fun reading it. It’s been a hot minute since i last wrote for Andy.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Andy Barber x Fem!Reader

Prompts Used: 

20) “You’d better be quiet or everyone’s going to know what a naughty little slut you are”

39) “I’m so sick of your voice. Why don’t you come over here and put your mouth to better use?”

42) “I guess i’ll just get off all by myself”

Warnings: Smut. Sexual intercourse, vaginal sex, spanking, daddy kink, love making (kinda), arguing, swearing, angst and a sprinkle of fluff for good measure. That’s right, used all 3. 18+ you know the drill.

Word Count: 6,796

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @cassercole go check them out💕

Do You Feel What I Feel?

After a long and interesting weekend, you’re a lot less eager to get back behind your desk to work for Andy Barber than you usually are. One reason in particular being that you’ve been dating other people behind his back. See the thing with you and Andy is that you’ve known him for 2 whole years, worked for him for 1 year and been fucking him since the evening of your very first day. He got you the job to work with him after you got laid off.

You met him after he showed up for one of your seminars at college and he gave a presentation on what it’s like to be a lawyer and you just clicked. But it was strictly platonic...until you showed up on that first day dressed in a knee length skirt, a semi sheer polka dot blouse with stockings and heels. He was shocked to say the least. You looked entirely different and he’d never seen you this way before. It turned him on and he let you know it. 

As you were packing your things away and bidding him goodbye for the day, he called you back into his office and instructed you to lock the door behind you before he began to inform you of the effect you had on him. Starting slowly by telling you how he was taken aback by your ability to think on your feet, use your initiative and then just like that, it all came out and he couldn’t control his hunger much longer. 

He kissed you so hard that night that the breath was knocked from your lungs but you loved it, you yearned for more of that feeling and he fucked you so good that you made it a regular thing, without even realising it was becoming one until it was too late. You’d just show up at each others places without a warning and before you knew it, he was fucking you into the mattress and making you cum with a cry of his name.

Now back to the present... you like Andy, in fact if you’re being truthful with yourself, you’ve fallen so madly in love with him that you know it’s time to quit him. He’s like a drug, an addiction and you need to stop going back for more. Hence why you decided that enough was enough. 

You met a guy online, his name is Ashley and he was more than keen to take you out so you happily obliged and sure you had a nice time but there’s just one issue lying in your way. Andy is unsuspecting of your little date and it’s been eating away at you since said date walked you back to your apartment. You know that you need to tell him but you fear that it’ll cost you your job, he did hire you to help you out after all.

Before you can wallow more in your choice to keep things from him, he calls you into his office and you haven’t even gotten any work done yet, you only sat down 5 minutes ago.

What could he possibly want so early on?

“Yes, Mr Barber?” you ask flirtatiously, making him glare up at you before gesturing for you to take a seat opposite him. Which you do.

“So today i’m gonna need you to file this paper work into the data base for me” he starts, lifting up a pile taller than the length of your forearm and now you’re annoyed for real this time. He knows full well that you’re still finishing off the stack from Friday and yet here he is presenting more work for you to do “get it done by the end of the day” he finishes, flashing you another stone cold glare as he looks back down at the paper on his desk, not even bothering to acknowledge your presence for a second longer.

Until you speak up “Andy, you know i’m still finishing off Frid....”

“That’s Mr Barber to you and you can leave now” his rude and snappy interruption makes you scoff as you shake your head at the tone in his voice, he’s not in any mood today to help you out or make exceptions. So you do as you’re told, hauling the heavy pile into your arms and lugging it back to your desk outside. Once it’s on your desk, you walk back to shut his door before he asks, making sure to slam it harder than needed to make it known that you’re angry with him.

He doesn’t seem to notice or care though.

Now to get started on all of this work that’ll probably mean you staying later tonight, just brilliant. Guess your second date with Ashley will have to be rescheduled.

------------------------

You finish off half of the pile by the time it gets to 1:30pm and you’re due a lunch break round about now so seeing as though Andy hasn’t left his office all day, you decide to pop out for some food with one of the other assistants, Stacey. Thank God you don’t have to face him since you have absolutely no clue what could have possibly rattled his cage this morning to make him snap at you like that. The two of you have always had this ongoing joke of you calling him Mr Barber and he usually allows you to call him by his first name until today when that alone was enough to anger him.

It’s obvious that you’ll have to put off telling him about your date until he’s in a better place to receive the news. You’re hoping that since he’s always been opposed to commitment that he’ll take it well but the halt in your fooling around might annoy him a little. It’s not your problem though, he always knew you were planning to eventually settle down.

Upon your return to your desk you find Andy sat in your chair, looking through your work “where the hell have you been?” he mutters as he avoids your eyes “you know what, don’t even bother making excuses, my office, NOW” you jump out of fear as he raises his voice slightly at you for the first time in the whole 2 years you’ve known him. Your anxious body shuffles into his office, scared of what’s about to happen.

“Was i not clear enough earlier Y/N? Hm? Because i specifically remember asking you to have this work done by the end of the day. You get off at half 4, it’s now half 2 and you’ve only done half. Do i pay you to galavant around town with Stacey or do i pay you to do your goddam job?”

In the 2 years that you’ve known Andy, he’s also never made you cry, yet here you are trying your absolute hardest not to let these tears fall in front of him.

“You pay me to do my job and i’ve tried my best to get it done. I-I’m sorry” you stand there awkwardly, picking at the torn skin around your fingernails as you stare hopelessly at your stilettos. “Well your best isn’t fucking good enough Y/N, try harder. You can stay here until all of the paperwork is done and that includes Friday’s load too now close the door on your way out”

Is he actually serious? He can’t be, surely. What is wrong with him?

“No” you stand tall, hands on your hips as you talk back and if he was angry before then now he’s livid with you “What do you mean no?” he questions, stepping towards you, hands in his pockets as he awaits your answer.

“I said, no. Just because you’re in a bad mood for whatever reason does NOT mean that you get to stand here and humiliate me. I said no and that’s final. I’ll do my best to get today’s work done before i leave but Friday’s work can wait and i don’t care what nasty comment you have in store to throw back at me”

His face screws up as he clenches his jaw again, you should feel really scared right about now, that comment might have just cost you this job but you don’t care. If that’s the case then you’ll walk out of here proud of yourself along with one less so called friend in your life.

“Bad mood? I’m furious and you don’t even know the half of it” he picks his phone up, tapping a couple times before handing it to you and walking back to his desk to sit down. You watch the clip in his camera roll, squinting as you try to make out the faces in it and then you realise that it’s you and Ashley. Fuck. He was there that night at your apartment, he was obviously coming to see you and you didn’t even know it. He must have seen you with another man and changed his mind. You feel awful as you look back at him, he just sighs once you place the phone onto his desk.

“Andy, i-i”

“Save it. If you wanted to cut our little deal off then you shoulda just said. I don’t appreciate being lied to Y/N and i don’t fancy talking about it with you for a minute longer so just do as your fucking told and get back to work”

All you can do is turn around and walk away since you’ve done enough damage already. But all you can think about is the look on his face after you watched the incriminating clip. He looked sad, broken even and it’s replaying in your brain over and over. Torturing you. 

This is why he’s been so nasty today, so demanding and harsh. He’s hurt that you lied to him, hurt that you were with someone else, even if it was just dinner. You still arranged a date with another man and went and what Andy has never wanted to admit before, not even to himself is that he really likes you. In fact no, he’s fallen madly in love with you. 

Every waking moment of his life is spent with you on his mind. You even corrupt his dream world too and it’s gotten out of control. Saturday he decided it was time to cut your little deal off and start over. He was going to do it right, confess his feelings, ask you on a date and then take you out and treat you like a princess.

Ever since he laid his blue eyes on you that first time when he was doing the presentation in your class at college, he liked you. You asked so many questions, engaged a lot in the debates and he knew then that you were going to play an important role in his life. And you have. You became close friends, going out regularly and doing things like bowling and eating dinner together more than a handful of times. He enjoyed your company and you enjoyed his but there was this unspoken rule that you had to remain just friends. He wasn’t ready for anything serious and you were still not over your ex.

But then when you walked through his office door on your first day dressed in that skirt, those heels and stockings and lets not forget about that blouse. He was trying his hardest not to drool. One things for sure though, he was painfully hard for you.

When he came to your apartment Saturday and saw you outside your door with some preppy douchebag who was around your age, he felt this lump in his throat form as his heart ached. Sure he expected you to get a man eventually after all you are 24 and he’s in his 30’s. But he didn’t expect it to happen so soon. He also didn’t expect you to have such an effect on him the way you have but here he is, angry at you for moving on without telling him and angry that you aren’t his anymore. 

He feels bad for shouting at you today, for being so harsh with his words. He could see the tears pooling in your eyes right away but he was too pissed off to stop and now he’s almost certain that any friendship the two of you had is gone for good thanks to his vile actions.

Another 2 hours tick by and you’re still working at your pile, you’ve still got a lot left being that he’s included Friday’s in your load too. It’s going to be a long night so you pick your phone up and call Ashley.

“Ashley hey, it’s uh, it’s Y/N. Listen, i have to work late today so i won’t be able to make it” you announce and as he responds, Andy opens his door but you don’t notice.

“Rain check? Uh...” you trail off, trying your hardest to decide if you even want to see him again. It’s like you’re torn. On one hand you have Andy, your dream man. A man who knows your body like the back of his hands and a man who can more than likely take care of you if you just took a leap and told him about your feelings but then on the other hand you have Ashley. A guy who is your age and who makes you laugh a hell of a lot. Before you can even decide though, you hear a cough behind you. It’s Andy.

“Ashley can i call you back? It’s just now’s not really a good time, i have a lot of work to get done”

You hang up the phone as your eyes are locked onto Andy’s and the moment your phone is placed back onto your desk he wraps his large hand around your wrist, lifting you up off your chair and tugging you into his office. You watch as he locks the door behind him before going back to sitting behind his desk.

“You gonna see him again?” he asks, jaw clenched.

“I-I uh, i don’t know. I’m a little torn right now” your eyes settle on his plump pink lips, wanting nothing more than to bite down on his bottom one as you sink down onto his cock but you’re dirty thoughts come to a staggering halt as he speaks. “Torn with what? You like him right?” why is he asking you these things? Is he trying to torture himself with the details.

“Yes i mean no i mean I don’t know. I like him but i don’t think i can date him”

“How come?”

“Because i like someone else, in fact i love someone else”

Andy feels his heart sink further as more cracks appear threatening to shatter it completely. You love someone else and now he’s truly out of the game.

Rage works it’s way back into his body and he can’t help but take it out on you “did you sleep with him? Huh? Did the douche bag get to fuck that tight cunt of yours?”

At first you find him funny, laughing as you look around the room, anywhere but his eyes but then your own rage sets in.

“Not that it’s any of your business but no, he didn’t. We had dinner and that’s it” you state, matter of factly as you place your hands back onto your hips..

“Bullshit”

“Is that what you really think of me Andy? You think i’d just give it up to any guy that even looked my way. Wow, i knew you were a lot of things but vicious was definitely not one of them and what’s that i smell? Is it jealousy? Surely not.” you tut, shaking your head “I don’t think i even know you at all by the looks of things if you thought lying to me was better than being honest and trust me, i’m not jealous in the slightest, in fact i pity you. It’s your sex life that will suffer” he doesn’t falter for even a second as he stares you down and just as he anticipated, you’re the first one to break, looking away from him. You can’t help the way your heart starts to race from all of the fury filling up your body. How dare he.

“I was only keeping it from you until i found the right time to tell you. And don’t you dare think for one second that just because we’ve slept together that you have any right to comment on my sex life. You made it perfectly clear that monogamy wasn’t your thing so don’t be mad when i finally want to move on from being someone’s fuck buddy” you spit, heat rising to your cheeks as you realise what you just said. Fuck.

“I’ll comment on whatever i fucking want to so quit the bitching and yeah, i don’t do commitment but i sure as hell wouldn’t be with you even if i did”

You don’t respond to him this time, there’s no quick comeback to fire his way, no insult that could mean you having the upper hand again. Nothing is left but shock and disappointment. He really said that, he really played on your biggest insecurity. He played on it and used it to his advantage, to get the upper hand and win the argument.

“What? Got nothing to say?” he snorts, smug grin on his face. Watch his smile disappear now...

“I love you, Andy” you finally get the words out and you feel as if you’re going to choke on them and die right here in his office. Cause of death, unrequited love.

“W-what?” he’s practically speechless, his words barely audible.

“I’m so madly in love with you and i have been for a while now. But i continued to shut my feelings out and reject other guys because i came to the realisation that having you in any way that i could would be enough for me even if it meant that i couldn’t have you in the way that i’ve always wanted. But none of this matters now, right? Because you’ve made it pretty clear how you feel and where you stand. You wouldn’t date me even you did date and that’s fine but at least now both our cards are on the table”

He looks up at you, using his index finger to force you to look back at him and when you do, he looks so deep into your eyes almost as if he’s attempting to see into your soul. Like he’s trying to search for any signs of dishonesty.

“Why didn’t you just tell me? Instead of going out with other guys you shoulda told me and been honest about it?” is all he can say and that’s the last response you expected but what catches you off guard the most is how he said it, almost like he was hurt and relieved simultaneously.

“Andy, you’re my boss and you made it clear that you didn’t want a relationship” he has absolutely no right to lecture you about honesty when he’s spent the entire time he’s known you blabbering on about how the single life is better for him and how he’d hate to be tied down again. You roll your eyes as you move away from him when he attempts to move closer.

Silence falls upon the two of you and it seems never ending, leaving you no choice but to leave. The moment you turn around to walk away he’s on his feet too “where are you going?” the tone his voice makes it sound as though he’s pleading for you to stay without actually saying the words.

“I’m going back to my desk to do my fucking job, just like you told me to do earlier” you turn back around but just as you expected, he stops you “look. I’m sorry, okay. I was just mad that you”

“Mad about what? That i went out on a date? I’m a single woman Andy and despite our little deal, i don’t belong to you so you have no right to be mad at me for doing what any other single person does”

He bites down on his bottom lip as he runs his fingers through his perfectly styled locks, messing them up instantly “God, you’re so fucking infuriating”

“I’m infuriating? You really are clueless to your own behaviour aren’t you? I just told you that i love you and you still haven’t told me if you feel the same. So i think that says it all, don’t you?” you stop yourself before continuing your rant, trying your hardest to prevent something worse slipping out. Right now in your state, you’re bound to say things that you don’t mean and will later regret. “you know what, i think i’m gonna take the work load home and complete it there. I’ll see you tomorrow, if i still have a job that is” you raise your brows at him, praying he doesn’t fire you for your attitude alone. But to your surprise he doesn’t.

“You really think that low of me? That i’d ever fire you because of what’s going on between us outside of this office? Wow” he leans back on his desk and his shoulders drop as he slumps over, looking down at his large calloused hands.

“It’s what i assumed would happen. You’re really gonna pretend like you don’t want me gone after today?”

“I don’t, believe it or not. But i have no time to deal with this discussion any longer, i have to leave early today” he says as he goes back to sitting behind his desk again and turning his computer back on “i don’t expect you to stay any longer, you can take that work home and finish it after your date” he mutters the last few words, pulling a face as if they make him sick.

“Really? We’re back to that again. God i’ve had it with you” you spit, biting down on the inside of your cheek before strutting over to the door but his hand stops you before you even get yours on the lock.

“Let me go Andy. I don’t even want to look at you, let alone be stuck in a room with you” harsh, but in this moment it’s true. He’s done nothing but upset you all day long and even after your stupid decision to confess your love for him, he’s still doing it. You feel so defeated right now that you can’t take another second of his shit.

“Just one more thing and then you’re free to go and fuck whoever you want, whenever you want. How many guys have you been on dates with since we started hooking up?” the desperation is evident in his eyes as they pierce into yours, searching again but this time for the answers before you can even open your mouth to give them to him “one. It was only one date on Saturday night with Ashley” and that’s the truth. You would never repeatedly date behind his back, this was a one off. A one off you’re regretting more as the seconds tick by.

An awkward silence falls upon the two of you once more as he walks back over to his desk, pacing next to it and creating a draft. “Are you planning to see him again?” and he’s back with more questions. Why does he care so much?

He clearly doesn’t love you too otherwise he’d have said it once you confessed your feelings for him. Instead he left you looking like the biggest joke ever, the clown. And you feel so mortified for even believing he’d say it back.

Silly little Y/N, always catching feelings for men who don’t feel the same way back. You’re starting to feel as though you’ll never find someone.

But still his behaviour has you second guessing him. Maybe he does like you and that’s why he’s acting so hurt.

“Maybe i will, after all i am single. That shouldn’t be a problem, should it Andy?” you know full well that you’re pushing down hard on his buttons and you can see his cheeks turn red as his knuckles turn white from his tight grip on the side of the table.

“What you don’t like that? You don’t like the thought of me on top of Ashley, sinking down onto his cock as he touches my body and kis -”

Out of nowhere he interrupts you, slamming his fist down onto his desk “dammit, Y/N, what is it with you? Trying to make me jealous? Because i’ve had just about enough of you running your mouth” he pulls one of the chairs out, falling into it and spreading his legs “In fact. I’m so sick of your voice. Why don’t you come over here and put your mouth to better use? Huh? Maybe then you’ll shut up about that fucking douche bag” he is jealous, it’s so obvious to you now. He’s jealous of Ashley, jealous of the possibility of him spending time with you and he hates the thought of someone stealing you away from his tight grasp.

You can’t quite believe your ears or your eyes as he spreads his legs further, grazing his hand over the tent in his dress trousers and you can’t help the gulp that follows.

“Andy”

“Shhh, enough talking. I don’t have it in me anymore to argue with you, just come here” he insists but you stand your ground “no. i can’t keep going round and round in circles with you with absolutely no end in sight and with no hope for you to reciprocate how i feel. I’m sorry but i’m leaving”

Yet again, as expected, he clears his throat “fine. I guess i’ll just get off all by myself”

Like they always do around Andy, your legs turn to jelly and your eyes glaze over along with your better judgement being clouded by x rated thoughts of him railing you. The idea of him touching himself, working his hand expertly around his girthy cock causes arousal to flood your panties. How dare your body betray you like this. How dare your mind do the same. It’s not fair that every time you think you have the upper hand and the dominance, he comes along, snatching it away from you and proving you wrong.

You have absolutely no idea why you’re about to do what you’re about to do other than the fact that your body gravitates toward him like a magnet and it’s out of your control.

So without a second longer to fester or overthink, you spin around on your heels, charging towards him. Andy watches in awe as you drop to your knees and make quick work of his belt. Once you free his cock from the confines of his black Calvin Kleins and into your small hand you spot the droplets of precum oozing out of the slit on his red bulbous head. You look up at him through your eyelashes, batting them as you give the tip a couple of kitten licks before spitting all over his shaft and pumping him agonisingly slow.

“Fuck” he groans, rolling his eyes back as he grips the arm rests on the chair when you take him into your mouth “attagirl, sucking daddy’s cock like a fucking pro” his hands grip your face as he continues to watch you go to work, making a mess of yourself as you gag around him,

You don’t bother to issue a warning before taking all of him in your mouth, all the way down to his balls over and over. Making sure to hollow out your cheeks as you bob your head up and down, your tongue licking the underside of him as your hands grasp his balls. He starts bucking his hips up, attempting to fuck your mouth but you push him back down as a whole batch of unholy sounds that only you can elicit from him fall from his perfect lips, the sounds that are so loud and downright filthy that he has no option but to cover his mouth with his hand, biting down one of his thick digits to keep from exposing himself to his unsuspecting colleagues outside.

He soon pulls you off and you do so with a pop. He forces you to look up at him, his hand grabbing your cheeks and squeezing aggressively “no matter what undeserving boys you go out on a date with, no matter who flirts with you. You’re mine, always have been and always will be” he moves you to straddle his lap before he stands up to move the two of you to the couch.

“So no more dates princess, no more other guys. Because i’m the only one who gets to have you. Is that clear?” he cocks his brow up at you and you nod in response before mumbling a quick “yes” to satisfy his need for confirmation and assurance.

He lifts your knee length dress up to your stomach before he gets to touching you, squeezing at your ass cheeks a little too hard for your liking but you secretly love the way he gets so rough with your body, the way he smacks both ass cheeks repeatedly until you wince from how sore he’s made you.

“God, these clothes drive me crazy. Ever since that first day i met you, i’ve wanted you and when you started working here, i was so desperate to fuck you as you wore these stockings and these heels. You’re so fucking hot, princess and you have no idea how crazy you drive me when you bend over, shoving this ass in my face”

He starts to kiss your neck, sloppy open mouthed kisses on the spot that has your back arching as you grip onto the back of his neck to steady yourself. He’s working you up all the more, turning the pool in your panties into a river. You’re dripping wet for him, desperate for him to just fuck your greedy pussy, desperate to clench down around his cock as he pounds into you.

“You’ve done it before Andy. Many times in fact”

His kisses halt as he smirks at you, that devilish look in his eyes. It always drives you wild “do it again, please, i need it” you beg pathetically and much to your surprise, he does exactly that. He takes your panties, tugging them to the side and playing with your soaked core a little as well as touching your bundle of nerves. You whine into the crook of his neck as you urge him to hurry before he eventually pulls his pants further down his legs to position himself at your entrance better. You don’t even have time to breathe before he’s knocking the air from your lungs as he fucks himself to the hilt inside of you.

The way his pace continues to pick up until it’s rendering on animalistic is causing you to let out the loudest and sexiest sounds, it’s like music to his ears but he can’t have anyone hearing this. He flips the two of you over so that you’re below him, your legs pushed back to your head and you hold them in place. His hand covers your mouth as he slides himself back in, not making any effort to start slow “you’d better be quiet or everyone’s going to know what a naughty little slut you are” he continues with rough snaps of his hips as he fucks into you with reckless abandon and causing the sweet music you make to vibrate onto his hand.

“Yeah, like this? Like the way i fuck this pretty little cunt?”

Thrust

“Bet his cock couldn’t even touch what mine does to you, the way you cry out for more and scream my name every time. The way i can make you cum with just my words and my fingers. God, such a dirty little girl for me, ain’t that right, princess?”

Satisfied hums follow his questions along with a frantic nod as you feel the coil tightening in your stomach, like a knot twisting and pulling, you’re so unbelievably close that you can almost taste the impending orgasm. “Don’t make a fucking sound when i move my hand, okay?” again you nod in response and he moves his hand, smiling down at you with adoration in his eyes before moving his hand to your aching sex. His fingers pressing down onto your bundle of nerves, rubbing firm circles on it and as soon as your walls flutter around him, he knows your close.

“Gonna cum, huh? Gonna make a mess all over my cock? My filthy girl, go on baby, cream all over me”

Just like that, along with his permission you let everything go, allowing yourself to really feel the pleasure. Your walls flutter around him again and again and each time he pulls out of you he spots your juices as they cover his cock beautifully. The sight alone has his hips snapping harder, the sound of his skin slapping against yours bounces off of the walls in his office and you accidentally let out a lewd moan that he swallows with his kiss as you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer “cum for me daddy” your encouragement sends his entire world spinning as his thrusts stagger. 

His cock jolts inside of you, twitching like crazy before his cream fills you up deliciously, painting your walls in thick ropes. You arch your back as your arms wrap around his neck. You need to feel his lips on yours.

He kisses you so hard that your teeth clash, making the two of you chuckle into each others mouths before attempting again. This time his tongue forces it’s way past your lips, battling with yours as he rides the two of you through your dramatic and intense highs.

Once his hips still and he pulls out, he flops down next to you. The two of you are nothing but a panting mess. Chests rising and falling along with your erratic heart beats.

“I love you too” he confesses, making you gasp as you turn your head to look at his spent body, the way his eyes meet yours and tears pool in them has your eyes doing the same.

“Andy”

“I’m not finished. I’ve felt this connection with you since the day i first met you, it caught me completely off guard. When we made the deal for it to be just friends, i was upset. I wanted a lot more but i know i wasn’t ready just yet. But the way you’d draw out laughter from me that no one else has ever been able to and the way you’d boss me around only made my feelings grow. Then we fucked and it was like confirmation to me that i was well and truly screwed. But i kept coming back for more because it was like an addiction, i had to have you in any way that was possible and if sex was the only way then i’d have stayed single forever just to keep you close. I’d have done anything to be able to hold your body and kiss your neck and make you feel good. If doing that as just your fuck buddy was the only way then so be it. But i got to a point where just fucking you wasn’t enough. I wanted something real with you. So on Saturday-” before he can even finish you sigh, sitting up.

“You came to tell me how you felt? Andy, why didn’t you just say that earlier?” you don’t know how to feel right now. You’re so consumed by emotions that your head is spinning. One one hand you’re angry, annoyed and upset that he kept this from you and didn’t just tell you he felt the same when you confessed how you felt. But then on the other hand you’re relieved and happy that he does feel the same. This was never some unrequited love, it’s always been reciprocated and real. 

All the lingering stares you’d catch, all of the compliments thrown your way and the insults hurled at random guys who’d ogle you whenever you were out in public with him or whenever another guy at work would take an interest.

“I saw you with that guy Y/N and i broke down. Then today, i expected you to come in and talk to me about it but instead you sat down at your desk, acted normal and didn’t say a word. I was hurt that you’d keep this from me. I know we both felt these things and i know both of us were unaware of the feelings being reciprocated but you still didn’t tell me you’d even thought about seeing other people and i guess i just expected more from you, more honesty”

He’s right. You don’t have it in you to argue because he’s right. He might have had his reasons for hiding his true feelings but you hid your date from him and that’s a lot worse. How was he supposed to just come out with it when all he could think of was you with Ashley.

“You’re right. I was wrong, i didn’t even think about the effect it would have and i was selfish. To tell you the truth i only went out with that guy because i was trying to move on from you, i didn’t want to keep feeling this strongly with no possibility of you feeling the same so i did the first thing i knew to do, date some other guy”

Andy can’t say he isn’t relieved to hear you admit that preppy college boy means nothing to you but it’s bitter sweet, you saying that you thought your feelings were one sided so you wanted to move on to avoid getting hurt further makes him hurt too. You’ve always meant more to him than just some friendship or some steamy sex. You’re the first woman he’s even looked twice at since Laurie and that means a whole lot more than you’ll ever know or understand.

“So what now?” you ask, puppy dog eyes showing as you await his response.

“I know it’s a bit backwards but how about a date tomorrow?”

God, he really is so handsome, so sweet. His deep and raspy chuckles make you giggle along with him as you straddle him once again, crashing your lips to his, his beard scratching at your face just the way you like.

He pulls away for a second “is that a yes?” once more you shake your head, tutting at him “a thousand times yes, Mr Barber. Yes i’ll go out with you” he wraps his arms around you as he pulls you flush against his suit clad torso, kissing you eagerly and smiling into it. He finally got the girl.

---------------------------------

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[inkandpen22]

California Dreamin’ (2/?)

Pairing: Topper x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: underage drinking, mild violence, drug use 

Part Summary: Y/N and Topper have lunch together and later attend the Cameron’s party. 

Masterlist

Y/N

After surfing for most of the morning, I've grown tired. The waves here are so different than in Malibu. I run out of the water onto the sand, tossing my hair to the side. I hadn't noticed Topper on the beach in the middle of a morning run until I return to my belongings. He slows to a stop once he reaches my stuff. 

"Morning," I greet with a warm smile. 

"I could see you down the beach. You're really good!" 

"Thanks! Years of practice." I giggle. 

He raises a brow. "What are you up to later?" 

"Well, there's the party at the Camerons since Ward and Rose are gone for the weekend. You're going right?" I ask. 

"I was thinking of making an appearance." He remarks wittily. "You free until then?" 

I shrug. "As a bird." 

"Would you want to get some coffee or something?" 

A faint blush forms on my cheeks. "Sounds good." 

____________________________________

Topper

Sitting at the small table outside of the cafe, I can't help but admire her as she talks about California. All changed out her bathing suit and into a cropped Boston band T-shirt and ripped up Daisy Dukes. Half of her hair is tossed up into a bun, the rest hanging loose in waves over her shoulders. She doesn't notice my absentmindedly listening as I analyze every inch of her, even her white Converse high tops, the laces so stretched that she can tie them around her ankles multiple times. 

The waitress interrupts my daze and takes our orders. 

"Regular black coffee and farmer's breakfast please," I request. 

"Lavender tea and granola acai bowl, please. Thank you so much." Y/N smiles, handing her menu to the girl. 

What the hell is acai anyway? Does anyone know? Because I don't. 

When her eyes meet mine, she giggles. "What? Are you gonna start calling me Granola Girl?" 

"I didn't even know how to pronounce acai until you said it," I admit. 

"You should try it! It's very good for you!" She encourages. 

I make a 'yuck' sound and cower. "Isn't it purple?" 

"Maybe... Don't let that scare you!" She giggles. "Branch out, Thorton." 

"Okay, I'll try it, but only because you're peer-pressuring me!" I laugh. 

After a few minutes, my coffee and her tea arrive. Almost immediately, she reaches for the bottle of honey on the table and squeezes some in. 

"Did you know it takes bees almost a month to produce honey?" She asks. "A little fun fact."  

I glance up from stirring my coffee right as she brings her honey-coated finger to her mouth and begins to suck on it. Her eyes meet mine innocently, not suspecting of my thoughts. Fuck me. 

I swallow hard and quickly return my focus to picking up my coffee. 

"Sarah mentioned a party happening at The Boneyard tomorrow. What's that?" She asks with furrowed brows. 

"It's uh... it's place on The Cut," I stammer, still caught off guard by the honey incident. 

She frowns as takes a sip from her tea. "Why is it called 'The Cut'?" 

"It's where Pogues live. It's just the less valuable part of the island," I do my best to describe. 

"Pogues?" 

"The people from The Cut." 

"Do you all from your neighborhood have a name?" 

"They call us Kooks." I shrug. 

"At least it's fair. Sounds rather West Side Story," she teases with a giggle.

The waitress appears with our food. My plate is rather basic, All-American breakfast. Y/N's is a symbol of the trendy West Coast. In summary, we fit our stereotypes. 

I'm hesitant to say what I'm thinking, but Y/N doesn't know the island as I do. She hasn't met any Pogues and should be careful. "You should stay away from Pogues. They have a tendency to steal and lie." I advise. 

Her face falters, apparently, they don't have stuff like where she's from. "Oh... wow... noted." 

"Yeah, I would stay close to Rafe or me tomorrow night," I suggest, genuinely concerned for her and partially for my own benefit. 

She smiles, taking a bite of her smoothie bowl. "Will do."

"Our friends will be there so you should be okay, but Pogues will be too. Tourons too."  

She laughs. "Is that what you call tourists?" 

I suppress a grin and drag my tongue across my lower lip. 

"So I'm a touron?" She questions with amusement. 

My eyes grow wide and impulsively, my hand travels across the table to land on hers. "No, no! Not you!" I then notice my hand resting on hers. Oh geez, I'm messing this up! "Oh.. uh.. sor-" 

Calmly, she glides her hand over, allowing our fingers to interlock. She brings them down to rest on her lap under the table. "You're fine, Topper!" She giggles. "You apologize too much. Relax. It's just me." 

A smile forms on my lips and I nod. She's right, it's her, she's not scary. She's kind and understanding, more relaxed than anyone I've ever met. 

"Here, try this." She scoops up some of her smoothie bowl, picking up some granola and fruit on top. She guides the spoon into my mouth and I try it. 

I nod, processing the experience. "Okay, I'm a fan." 

"I knew you would be," she grins, giving my hand a faint squeeze. 

The remainder of the meal, on the walk to the car, throughout the drive, and until I dropped her off, we hold hands. It felt so natural and right, as though our hands were made for each other. It was difficult to let go, to say the least. 

__________________________________________________

Well into the party at the Cameron's, Rafe challenges me to jump off the roof into their pool three stories below. Kelce gets him fired up, encouraging the challenge. Y/N and Sarah innocently stand nearby on the balcony, smoking a joint together. I would be lying if I said I haven't been watching Y/N all night. That yellow bikini should be illegal. 

"I'll do it if Y/N does!" I compromise. 

Rafe grins wickedly and I instantly regret what I said. He gets up from his spot on the couch and jogs over to the girls. He rests his hand on Y/N's lower back, dangerously close to her ass. I swallow hard, doing my best not to make a scene. As they talk and laugh, he glides his arm around her. The way she looks at him so intently, makes me wonder if it's solely friendly. Then again, Y/N has the ability to make everyone feel like they're the most important person in the world. 

"Oh, you're on!" I hear her tell him. 

Rafe takes her hand and brings her over. "She's down!" 

The next thing I know, Y/N and I are standing on the roof of the Cameron's house. 

"Scared?" I ask her as I peer down at the pool below. People stand with their heads tilted back, cheering for us to jump. 

She shrugs. "It's just like cliff jumping. I do it all the time back home." She slips her hand into mine. 

My eyes flicker down to our interlocked hands and an idea pops into my head. I tuck my arm behind her legs and scoop her up. 

She instantly flings her arms around my neck and squeals. "Topper!" 

"Ready?" I chuckle. 

"On three!" She giggles nervously. 

I nod and begin to count. "Okay! One! Two!" I jump and cheers ensue louder. 

Y/N screams and clings to me. Her face is hidden within the curve of my neck. Within seconds, the cool pool water consumes us. We break apart and I kick to the surface. When I pop out of the water and wipe my eyes, I find Y/N close by. She swims over to me, smiling brightly. I snake my arm around her and guide her legs around my waist. 

I point to her and announce to the cheering crowd. "This is the coolest girl in the OBX!" 

________________________________

Rafe

The party has died down, the sun threatening to rise in two to three hours. Topper and Kelce finish a game of pong outside and Sarah crashed a while ago. I watch dazed as Y/N takes another hit from the joint and hands it to me. She sits back onto the couch and leans into my side, resting her head on my shoulder as I take another hit. Once there's nothing left but ash, I set it down on the ashtray on the side table. I rest my now free hand on Y/N's knee as she rests against me.  

"So soft..." I mumble, rubbing my thumb over her skin. 

Y/N rises off my shoulder, resting her chin against it. I turn my head, meeting her red and dilated eyes. She smiles softly at me. 

I lift my other hand to caress her cheek. "So beautiful..." 

She stares into my eyes and I'm left wondering what's going on inside her head. My eyes flicker down to her lips and I want to kiss her. Following my instincts, I lean in. 

Shaking her head, she presses a hand to my chest and moves away. "Rafe, don't." 

I persist, scooting closer to her. "Why not? It's not like you're still with Nate," I chuckle. 

"We're friends..." She reminds me. 

I press against her shoulder to urge her down onto the couch. "We could be more." I lean in to kiss her again. 

Within seconds, Y/N's palm flies across my cheek with a smack. "Jesus Rafe! I said no!" 

I hiss, my hand covering up my cheek. 

Y/N takes the opportunity to slip out from under me. She storms off toward the staircase. I slam my fist against the back of the couch. Damn, that slap fucking hurt. She really knows how to hit! Suddenly, Topper and Kelce appear from outside, laughing and talking about the party. I pull out my vile of coke from my pocket, ready to release the pain in my face. 

"Where did Y/N go?" Topper chuckles as they plop down on the couch with me.  

"I don't know, bed? Who gives a fuck," I grumble, pouring myself a new line on the table. 

“What’s with the attitude?” Kelce questions. 

“Nothing, man. Just don’t care about her.” I hide behind a disdained expression. 

________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly @cc13723things@hockeybabe87 @jolomez @plutooryectors

[amphxtrite]

george weasley x fem!reader

warnings: smut, oral (male receiving), swearing, spelling/grammar mistakes.

do not read if you are not comfortable.

summary: When the twins and the reader move into their new apartment in Diagon Alley, you finally confess to George about the feelings you’ve accumulated through the years, which eventually leads to more.

a/n: This was request from anonymous for a george weasley x reader, first time smut, thank you for requesting, I had a lot of fun writing this!

word count: 4k

enjoy <3

__________________________________________

“Give her hell from us Peeves!” Three voices cry before soaring away into the clear blue sky.

Everyone knows of the Golden Trio, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. The students who disobeyed every rule, every year to save the wizarding world.

In the Hogwarts walls there was another group of students, while not as heroic, were just as well known. George Weasley, Fred Weasley and Y/n L/n were the notorious pranksters of the school. You couldn’t walk ten feet without someone being a victim of their work. For years, the school was their playground, pranks ranging from covering students in feathers, slipping belch-powder in professors’ tea and making products of their own that would take the world by storm in the years to come.

Every student at Hogwarts knew their group by name, swiveling heads in alertness when one of your voices was about, or running the opposite way when a familiar laugh rang out. There was never one without the others, so when your grand scheme of fireworks and sparks flew through the air, no one was surprised to see three brooms zipping about, accompanied by laughter and the screams of the pink toad who had terrorized the school of magic. Your names would go down in history among the students and as you zipped away through the clouds, a giant ‘W’ in your wake. The joyous feeling of freedom breaks free and you join the twins in the life you’d been dreaming about since you met the two in your first year, and away from the hell you’d endured.

With the help of Harry’s generous donation, the three of you set up shop in Diagon Alley, making the most bizarre and far-out designs the three of you could think of. Working long and hard to perfect each and every one of your products for your grand opening in a couple months.

The three of you spent most of your time in the apartment above the shop, concocting your brews and relishing in the new-found freedom you had taken for yourselves. The three of you worked, laughed, high-fived and dusted each other off after bad days, you grew even closer to the twins and with the new atmosphere and life, and feelings you’d accumulated through the years came about that had your stomach erupt in butterflies around your best friend.

If you were to ask anyone in Hogwarts about the mischief trio, first you’d see their head swivel and panic cross their eyes, next they’d tell you. While you were all close and the twins were practically connected at the hip, George Weasley and Y/n L/n had an unspoken ‘thing’ between them, and it was quite obvious to everyone, but them, and although cliché it was one of the castle’s favourite subjects for drama.

While oblivious to the gossip, George had fancied you since the moment he met you in first year. Watching your eyes light up at him and his twins’ antics and then showing them some tricks of your own. He must’ve been blushing beet-red because at that moment he fell. He fell for your sarcastic remarks, your love for books and muggle movies, he fell for the way your nose scrunched when you were concentrating and the way your eyes lit up whenever it snowed. George could go on for hours about all the things he loved about you, but actually telling you was a whole other story. You were such a positive, bubbly person, he could hardly tell the difference between a romantic or platonic action. Did you mean to brush his hand like that? Was that little smirk for a reason? Did you know what you did to him when you bit your lip like that? Or when you walked with a little more swing in your hips.

George wanted nothing more than to wrap you into his arms and hold you close against him, murmuring every moment he fell in love with you into your ear, listening to your heartbeat and pressing kisses across your temple, but at the same time he wanted to make you squirm beneath him, make you scream his name and take away your ability to walk, leave his mark across your skin and taste you. He just wished he had a hint to how you really felt about him.

“Oi, George! Get down here, we need some help with this stand!” Fred’s familiar shout shakes the daydreaming red-head out of his daze, cutting his thought of you short.

“Alright ya twat, no need to yell!” George huffs, speeding down the stairs to the shop area and walking towards you and Fred.

“How can I be of assistance, my dear brother.” George smirks as he approaches. “Well this stand won’t fit in between the other displays, we just need help pushing it in.” You shrug, jabbing your thumb towards the empty display stand.

George claps his hands together and the three of you get to work. You did your best to pry one of the displays to the side while the twins push the stand into place. Everything was going well, you made great progress and the display case was starting to slide in. It wasn’t until the twins gave a final heave, that you lost focus, your eyes dropping to a certain twin’s toned bicep, peeking out from his skin tight shirt, and you failed to remove your finger from the crevice.

“Bloody Hell!” You cry as your fingers are crushed in the closed space. Quickly yanking your digits out of the gap, you hold them close to your chest, you double over in pain. “Fuck, that hurt.” You groan, examining your fingers to be lightly scratched and bruised. 

George can only just register your pained yelp before he’s fussing all over you just like his mother would. “Oh my goodness, are you alright love? I left my wand in my room, come on, I’ll fix you right up.” George gently takes your arm and hurries up the stairs leaving a confused Fred behind. 

“Hey it’s alright Georgie, it’s just a small cut!” You try to reason with the persistent ginger, but George doesn’t let go. “Nonsense darling, your finger is bleeding, I’ll heal it in no time.” He continues, sitting you on his bed as he picks up with wand from his bedside drawer and takes a seat next to you.

You extend your hands to George and without a beat he murmurs the healing spell. “Episkey.”

Your cuts begin to close and the bruises fade away, leaving no pain and no sign of injury. “Thanks George, you’re the best!” You giggle wrapping your arms around the tall Weasley and inching closer to him.

It had become something of a tradition for the two of you to heal each other if one of you were to get hurt back in school. Whether you’d scraped a knee or had come to the other bearing Umbridge’s scar, you’d done your best to help one another, learning new healing spells for this specific reason. 

A smile spreads across your cheek as you think back to the days you’d run to George with a burn or a cut, only coming to peace once he’d had a go at it, or at least wrapped it in a bandage.

“Do yo remember, back in Hogwarts, when we’d come to each other just to heal our little wounds.” You pull back from the hug and take George’s hand in yours. 

“Of course darling, how could I forget.” George grins, reminiscing of the days not so long ago. 

Back in your days with the pink toad, George would be the first person you’d run to after detention, small sobs racking through you as you showed George the first of many scratches in the back of your hand. 

‘I must not laugh in class’ 

George had helped you reduce it to a pink scar, but the pain remained with you for long after as the memories of that horrid quill raked your brain.

George was always your comfort, he’d stuck by your side and was there for you when you needed it the most. Long nights of star-gazing, studying, planning and laughing had also helped you come to terms with the love bubbling inside you for George Weasley.

“Thank you for everything, back in school I mean.” You sigh, leaning onto George’s broad shoulder, a light smile gracing your face.

“There’s no need to thank me love, if anything I should be thanking you for saving me from detentions.” George smirks, wrapping an arm around you. You begin to laugh a bit as you think back to when you’d trick filch into leaving his post before pulling the red-head through the long halls. 

“Feels like so long ago.” You murmur and look up towards George, finding him already gazing back at you. “Last time you did it was only a year ago love.” The younger twin smiles, leaning closer.

Your eyebrows knit together and your face heats up at the sudden closeness and a question that has plagued your mind for years spills from your lips. 

“Not to be nosy, but why do you always call me darling or love, Georgie?” 

This was it, George’s thoughts began to race. This was the moment he could finally confess to you, finally know how you felt about him. 

His lips turn up into a huge smile, as he pulls you closer to him and looks down for a moment, gathering courage. 

“Y/n, I’ve fancied you since the moment I saw you on the train. You immediately caught my attention, but once I really got to know you, I knew that I was done for. You’re so funny, beautiful and absolutely perfect, but you’ve never really showed me you fancied me and-” George pauses for a moment, trying to pick his words right. “Well, I just want to know how you feel.” He simply states, looking deep into your mesmerizing e/c eyes. 

Your smile widens as George finishes his confession, and tackling the red-head onto the bed you hug him tight against you. 

“I fancy you too idiot! Why else do you think I’d only go to you for my scars and bruises, why I’d save you from detention all those times, I’ve fallen in love with you!” A melodic laugh rings from your lips as George wraps his arms around you with a hearty chuckle, pressing kissing on your head just like he’d dreamed of doing. 

Rolling the two of you over, George now on top, the blushing ginger admires your laughing form beneath him. You were positively angelic and he couldn’t help himself from what came next.

George leans down and captures your lips in his, snaking his arm up to hold your hand against the mattress while the other cups your face. The kiss is chaste at first as George familiarizes himself with your lips, truth be told he hadn’t had his first kiss yet, only daydreamed of doing it with you. Now, with your lips finally against his, he wanted it to be perfect.

Running his tongue against your bottom lip, George wordlessly asks for permission to deepen the kiss, nipping lightly on your soft pink lips. Parting your lips you allow George to run his tongue around your mouth, as your teeth clash and your tongues swirl around each other. 

George eventually pulls away to catch his breath, never letting go of your hand and stroking your cheek with his thumb. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that love.” the prankster smiles, pressing a small kiss to your nose. 

“Oh I can imagine, especially with that pressure on my thigh.” Your eyebrow raises in a teasing tone as George goes a brilliant shade of scarlet, his freckles seemingly disappearing under the dark hue. 

“I- uh, I’m sorry. It’s just-” George begins to ramble, trying his best to explain himself to no avail. 

A small smirk plays on your lips as you capture George’s lips into a loving kiss again. 

“It’s alright Georgie, I want this too.” You sigh onto the gryffindor’s lips, circling your hips around underneath him.

George lets out a low moan at your action, squeezing your hand and looking back into your eyes, pupils dilated and dark with lust. “I’ve never done this before.” You admit, running a finger up and down George’s side, glancing down at his lip caught in between his teeth. 

“I haven’t either, but I’ve imagined doing this with you before.” George shrugs, removing his hand from your cheek and placing it on the waistband of your shorts. “That makes two of us.” You tease, running your free hand up the beater’s toned chest. 

George doesn’t hesitate to crash his lips onto yours again, rolling his hips against you. Your mouth parts enough for him to slip his tongue past your lips again and explore every inch of your opening as his hand pulls the waistband of your shorts down your thighs before promptly flicking them to the floor. George uses his long digits to tease your clit through your panties as he kisses down your jaw and collarbone nipping and sucking, leaving a path of pink marks down your upper chest. “So wet for me already love?” He smirks as his fingers find the soaked patch on your heat, eyes darkening as he pushes harder against your clit.

“Yes George, f-fuck, right there.” You plead softly as George continues to ravage your clit, hitting the sensitive bud perfectly and sending waves of pleasure through your being. The gryffindor obliges, rubbing your heat faster and harder as your eyes shut and your head falls back against the soft pillows, allowing George access to your neck, sucking dark hickeys onto your skin as you writhe beneath him from the stimulation from his fingers and lips were granting. 

Slowly inching your fingers up, you pull the beater’s shirt up to his chest, motioning him to take it off as your fingers move lower to the waistband of his trousers. George removes his fingers from your panties to teasingly pull off his shirt, sitting up a bit to show off his toned abdomen, taking his sweet time to throw the shirt aside and fix up his short hair, sending a wink down at you. 

Your hands seem to gain a consciousness of their own, slowly tracing down each muscle, drawing dangerously low before George leans down to push your shirt up your chest. Raising your arms, your shirt joins George’s on the floor. “You’re absolutely stunning love.” George praises as he reaches behind your body to unclasp your black bra, quickly throwing it away and pressing kisses across your breasts. 

You begin to run your hands up the toned red-heads chest when he takes hold of your hands and pins them above your head against the soft cushion, his grip soft, but firm, unabling you to move despite how hard you squirmed. 

“Don’t bother darling, now stay still like a good girl.” George smirks, lust evident in his low rasp as he kisses down your naked chest, swirling his tongue around your nipples and massaging them with his calloused hand. Your attempts to escape George’s grasp are forgotten as his teeth begin to nibble on your sensitive buds. Head falling back between your arms, you arch your back against George, silently begging for more. George grins into your skins and pulls back to admire your pleading form, reaching down to undo his belt with a small fumble, eventually pulling his trousers and briefs down completely. Your eyes fly open at the feeling of George’s hard cock brushing up against your inner thigh as George’s dark, brown eyes display a playfulness as he teases his tip against your clothed core. 

You begin to struggle against George’s grip again, wanting to take his throbbing length into your mouth and make him beg beneath you. Unfortunately, George has different plans and his clutch stays firm. 

“Ah ah ah, just let me make you feel good y/n, save that for another time.” George purrs, hooking his fingers into your panties and pulling them down your legs. Your arms grow limp as George uses his hand to spread your thighs apart and place himself between your thighs. Right in front of where you needed him most. “Please don’t tease me anymore George, I-I need you.” You beg shakily, desperately rolling your hips to gain any friction, your timid demeanor being overthrown by overstimulation and need. 

“Patience darling, you’ll get me I promise.” George smirks, closing the space between you to press another heated kiss to your lips and continuing to coat himself in your slick, sliding himself up and down. Bringing his free hand to your clit again, George pushes his thumb to your sensitive bundle of nerves, swirling it around with a light pressure, swallowing your loud moans into the kiss. Once you were squirming beneath him again, back arched and hips thrusting up for more, he finally begins to push himself into your soaked core.

A feeling of ecstasy and satisfaction runs through your veins, bringing a whole new feeling of pleasure and clouding all your senses as George pushes deeper into you, awakening an intoxicating new feeling you could get addicted too.

George pauses for a moment, pulling away from the kiss for a moment to check in on how you were. Your eyes are shut, your mouth agape in a small ‘o’ and with the loss of his lips, desperate moans spill past your lips, mixing beautifully with George’s name. 

The toned red-head begins to thrust in and out, incoherent groans falling from his lips as your core clenches around him and your hips buck up to greet him. Picking up the pace. You cry out George’s name over and over again as he continues to snap his hips in and out of you, your body growing limp and your eyes rolling into the back of your head with each thrust. George continues to pound deep into you using all his strength to go deeper and harder, reintroducing his fingers to stroke your clit as he desperately swirls and thrusts his hips. 

“Fuck, you make me feel so good darling.” George growls against your ear, peppering kisses to your jaw and burying his face into your neck to try and stifle his loud moans. 

With George whispering sinful praises into your ear you can feel a knot tighten in your lower stomach, and your hips begin to buck again and again, begging for release. “Oh fuck George, d-don’t stop, I’m gonna cum.” You mewl breathily.

George, fueled by your moans pushes himself even more, thrusting and swirling his hips until he feels your core clench deliciously against him and your shaky moan cry out.

As your coil snaps, spots flood your vision and your body tenses as shockwaves of euphoria shake your body and your hands beg to grip onto something, cries of pleasure mix with the sound of George’s skin hitting yours as the beater continues to snap his hips into your throbbing core, his cock twitching and pulsing deep inside you as you ride out your orgasm and his release builds up. 

George throws your leg over his shoulder in a desperate action for release, using the new angle to push deeper into you and feeling your core contracts to grip his cock, driving him absolutely insane. 

“Oh my Godric, George you make me feel so fucking good, please let me help you.” You look up to your constricted hands and back into George’s dark orbs, pleading with him to release you. 

George gives a couple more lazy thrusts before he releases your hands and pulls himself out of you. Despite your legs being unsteady, you lay George’s head down on the other end of the bed and begin to kiss down his sweat stained body, slowly making your way down his long body.

Licking a stripe from the base to the tip of his cock, you slowly take George’s length into your mouth, swirling the pulsing tip around your tongue and hollowing your cheeks before going deeper. George’s eyes shut once again as you take him, burying his fingers into your hair and helping you to guide your lips down. Taking what you can’t fit into your hands you start to bob your head up and down, using your lips and hands together as you lick and suck at the sensitive skin. George begins to spew profanities and buck his hips into your mouth, pulling your hair up and down a little more forcefully as you begin to gag lightly. George continues to buck and moan, your name being sobbed from George’s lips as he feels his orgasm taking over him and hot cum floods your mouth. You try your best to swallow every drop, only a couple beads sliding down your chin as you lift your head from George’s length. 

“God you look so gorgeous with my cum dripping down your face.” George smirks pulling you onto his bare chest and kissing down your cheek. Your only response is a blush as George continues to stare down at you as if you were his last meal, drinking in all of your post-sex features. Messy hair, flushed cheeks, heavy breathing and swollen lips. Sighing, he pushes those thoughts away as he pulls you up to see him face to face. 

“That was amazing love, thank you.” George grins, pulling you against his chest and playing with your soft hair.

“Of course Georgie, but Merlin my legs are sore.” You groan into George’s chest as his chest vibrates with a chuckle. 

“I’m afraid Episkey won’t cut it for that darling.” The red-head prankster teases, reaching down to caress your legs lightly. “That’s too bad, have you got any other remedies?” You joke, wrapping your arms around George’s torso, a smile growing on your lips. 

“Just lay here with me darling, Relax.” George sighs, pulling back to gaze into your eyes again with a growing smile. “Sounds good.” You respond, a small yawn falling from your lips.

“I-I love you y/n, I’ve fallen in love with you so many times over the years and the fact I still haven’t asked you this question yet is killing me, would you be my girl? Please?” George pouts, giving you his best puppy eyes as you giggle and cuddle closer to his chest. 

“I’d love nothing more, my love.” You sigh happily as George’s eyes light up and he peppers your face with butterfly kisses.

“Next time the two of you shag, at least put a silencing charm over the room!” A disgusted shout, causes the two of your to flinch. “Sorry, Fred!” You laugh at the older twin’s plea and turn back to your love. “Guess we were a bit loud, weren’t we?” You tease.

“Me? Oh no darling, that was all you.” George smirks. “And who’s fault was that?” You reason, pressing a gentle kiss to George’s lips once again. 

“All mine, I can say that with honor.” The red-head smiles victoriously and pulls you against him again with a chuckle.

“Godric, I can still hear you!” Fred’s annoyed scream rings through the room again.

The two of you only laugh at Fred’s interjection, too busy staring into each other’s eyes to care. The two of you had come so far, from pulling pranks in the Hogwarts halls, running to each other for a spell you could easily perform when you were hurt, to moving into the same apartment to follow your dreams and making love to each other after your confessions of love. You’d only dreamed of being able to hold the boy who’d stolen your heart with each Episkey and prank, and here you are lying in his arms with love bites scattered across your chest and legs too tired to move, slowly drifting to sleep as all your dreams came true.

[imarvelatthesight]

Spar

A/N: I’m trying to branch out to more Marvel characters :) let me know if I should start adding a fic summary

Summary: Reader fights Thor on Saakar.

Pairing: Thor Odinson x Avenger!Reader

Pronouns Used: Gender Neutral (They/Them)

Recommended Song: Tia Tamera by Doja Cat ft. Rico Nasty

Word Count: 1,578

Warnings: fighting, one mention of blood, reader has super strength and partial magical abilities, mention of alcohol, swearing, it’s kinda sad in places

   The day you had been brought to Sakaar had been possibly the worst day of your life. And that was truly saying something. Being in a relationship with a god-- never mind the fact that he was also an Avenger-- was a trick in itself. Trying to have a good relationship with his adopted brother? Well, that’s how you ended up in this mess. Get caught snooping around his room once and suddenly you’re on a different planet.

Your clothes were uncomfortably tight and the decorative paint on your face had you dying to itch it. Every week for the past two years you’d suffered this same treatment. Though, the fact that you had survived your rounds in the pit meant you were treated more well-off than others. A nice room, any alcoholic drink you could wish for (but because you were from Earth, more than a couple of sips would have you off your ass in moments). Even with all of your so-called luxuries, you felt empty. Why had no one come to rescue you? Did the Avengers even notice you were gone?

The door opening in front of you interrupted your thoughts. There was no time to think about anything else other than trying to survive. The roar of the crowd above you had your ears nearly ringing. “My champion!” You heard The Grandmaster announce. You burst out into the area, the crowd seemingly getting even louder. Before you had time to revel in the applause, one of the few advantages of your predicament, your eyes settled on your opponent. “Oh shit.”

“Yes!” The god of thunder boomed, excitement covering his face. Silence befell the crowd. Your features softened for a moment, happy to see your lover. You knew, however, you would not be able to express it. If you showed any fondness for each other it would surely compromise your life. “They’re my lover!” He threw his hand in the air, swinging his weapon up with it. “This is great, Y/N! I’ve been looking for you- Loki’s alive. Loki!” 

Your eyes snapped up to the god of mischief. You scowled. You could faintly see him gulp and mouth something. “Thor.” You turned back to him, leaning forward slightly. “If we don’t fight, they’ll kill us both.” 

“Nonsense, come with me and we’ll go-” Thor’s words were cut off by you grabbing him and flinging him away from you. His body slid through the dirt, a pained groan leaving him. The stands erupted with joy at the battle beginning. Thor jumped to his feet, brushing himself off. “Love, this is embarrassing! I told them we’re lovers!”

His words made you hesitate. You didn’t want to hurt Thor. But you couldn’t risk both of you dying. Someone would figure something out. Hopefully. You raised your hand and Thor’s weapon flew out of his grip, finding it’s home in your palm. The mace was in your hand for a fraction of a second before you flung it back at your partner.  Your eyes clamped shut, not wishing to see if it struck him. After a few seconds you opened them and watched as Thor caught the mace and swung it back in your direction. Quickly, you raised your hands in an attempt to catch it again, but the tip of the mace nicked your cheek. You dropped the weapon, your thumb sliding over the wound to collect the blood from it. 

Your feet carried your body with agility as you leapt through the air. Thor threw a swift punch to your abdomen, throwing your frame into the wall where it dented from the force you landed with. Fuck, that hurt. A collective gasp filled the arena. 

The sound of quick footprints coming closer caused you to groan and assume a pleading position with your hand outstretched in front of your face. “Y/N, sweetheart?” You lifted your head, watching as Thor crouched to your level and extended a hand to you. “It’s alright. I won’t hurt you anymore. No one will.” The god of thunder cooed. Timidly, you reached out to him. “There you go, c’mere darling.” He smiled and pulled you into a hug, practically purring.

You melted into the contact. You were home. Anywhere with Thor was home. But part of you couldn’t resist looking up to where The Grandmaster sat. A frown soured his expression, Loki bouncing his leg at the opposite end of the couch. “Shit.” You whispered, though your Asgardian boyfriend didn’t notice as he placed a tender kiss to your forehead. The crowd was growing restless. Reluctantly, you pulled out of his hold. You grabbed his biceps, mentally admiring the way the muscle rippled under your touch, and lifted him in the air--using both your strength and your magic to assist-- before slamming him into the ground again. 

Your fists found purchase on his face, tears filling your eyes and a scream tearing through your throat. To the crowd, it was a war cry. To you, a plea of mercy to whatever higher being was listening, and a shriek of forgiveness from Thor. The god laid there, your punches landing blow after blow on his cheeks. Within moments, his body and eyes flowed with electricity, and he returned your action, the lightning launching your body into the air and backwards, where your head made contact with the loose dirt. 

Both astonishment and horror ebbed through you at the sight of Thor, covered in lightning, walking in your direction with purpose. You thought to do the same move you’d tried previously and leap at him. Only this time, he copied your movement and delivered an uppercut to your jaw. The sonic boom that erupted from Thor’s fist had your ears feel as if they were bleeding. Luckily, you’d managed to gather your bearings and land in a three-point stance. As Thor paced toward you, blue flashes decorating his muscles and dancing from his fingertips, he suddenly began to convulse and fell on his side. “Thor!” You cried, falling on your knees beside him. 

Your gaze shot to the large window again. The Grandmaster slid his finger back on a device and Thor stopped twitching. Of course. He couldn’t afford to lose. You stroked your lovers face. His hand covered yours. “My love, I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t want to hurt you.”

He chuckled. “It was quite a fight you put up. I’m sure Tony would have liked to see.” 

“We’ll tell him when we get back to earth.” You muttered. As Thor went to speak again, he started shaking again, the veins on his face darkening. Mere seconds later, an electric jolt shot through you and your consciousness slipped away.

When you awoke, it was with panic. You recognized the room as the one you’d been forced to stay in for so long now. You groaned and attempted to roll over, being stopped by the weight of another person. Your breath hitched and you tried to move away, only for an arm to be wrapped around you and pulling you closer, a deep sigh escaping the person.

“My love.” Thor rasped out as you flipped over to face him. He playfully rubbed his beard against your jaw. His contentedness left as his hand gently grasped your face, his thumb moving over the scratch on your face. “Oh, Y/N. I wish this had never happened. I’m sorry it has taken me so long to find you.”

You turned your head and placed a kiss on his palm. “A few years is quite a long time.” You agreed.

“Years? You’ve only been gone for a week, dove.” He cocked an eyebrow at you. “Though according to Loki, time does move quite differently here.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ugh, Loki. That fool is the reason I’m here in the first place.” You snuggled into Thor’s chest and he pulled his arms tighter around you like you would disappear. “I want to go home, Thor. I want to listen to Steve complain, and I want to watch TV with Wanda, and I want out of these stupid devices-” You barely noticed the sobs leaving you as you tugged on the technology implanted on your neck.

Thor took your face in his hands. “We will get out of here, sweetheart. I will be sure of it. And Loki will right his wrongs, I swear it.” He kissed you softly. You nodded, silently acknowledging his words. “I love you, Y/N L/N.” Another kiss. “The light of my life.” Another. 

You held back a laugh in favor of burying your face in the crook of his neck. “Stop, you big sap. I love you, Thor Odinson.” You suddenly pulled away with wide eyes. Thor only smiled in confusion. “Valkyrie! She and I get along quite well, she’ll help us. I know it!”

Footsteps from down the hall had Thor scrambling out of the bed, standing politely with his hands folded. You rushed to the door, where Valkyrie nodded in you greeting. “Y/N. It was quite shocking to learn that you are romantically engaged with our lord of thunder here.” She motioned with her hand.

“It’s god of thunder, actually-”

“We must get to training, Y/N. You two can kiss it up later.” She looped her arm through yours. You cast a look over your shoulder at Thor, who gave you an enthusiastic thumbs up. 

“So, Val, I must discuss a proposition with you...”

“Does it involve drink?”

“It can.”

“I’m listening.”