#n he just goes there to hang out and laugh at the gamblers sometimes

[whisperinggbreeze]

Eight hundred years ago, a powerful martial god— the god of wealth, luck and gambling— ascended.

After he was mortally wounded because of a selfless act in an intense battle to save his people, he ascended and his healing was personally seen to by the Heavenly Emperor himself.

This god, Hua Cheng, is as mysterious as he is powerful. Nobody knows where he came from, or what battle he was in that caused him to ascend.

Only a couple of centuries after he first ascended, Hua Cheng destroyed the lair of one of the four Heavenly Calamities, causing it to rain blood. He earned the title Crimson Rain Sought Flower when he used an umbrella to shield a lone flower from the bloodbath.

Now, he is as feared as he is revered. In some locations, he is respected and prayed to as an all powerful being. In others, he is a story to keep children in line. No matter where you fall on the spectrum, one thing is for certain:

You don't want to make Crimson Rain Sought Flower angry.

---

HC's part of the prologue is here! it's a lot shorter than XL's, but that's because there's meant to be a lot more mystery surrounding him and his origins

also a clarifying note for if I do post the first few chapters of this fic in full: XL's calamity story is very well known, but I very deliberately didn't put his actual name in his story (and mentioned that it had been forgotten over time). this is why HC is confused and thought he hadn't heard of XL before (this is implied in the chapter 1 excerpt I posted)

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

top shelf, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Sometimes you just want to be pinned down and fucked like a whore, you know? Should you ask the strange woman wearing the leather bondage collar to do it? Probably not. But she’s going to ask for a shot of Don Julio and Jeon Jungkook’s going to ask to get fucked.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; smut (fem reader, sex on top of a bar, the wrong use of tequila including [but not limited to] sucking a shot off JK’s balls, handjob, m-receiving oral, cowgirl); non-idol!BTS; black-haired, ponytail, bartender, sub!Jungkook x pansexual, dom!reader; Jungkook’s POV, ft bartender!Taehyung

did i maybe question if i should put this on the internet? eh, it’s here now

--

"Shot of Don Julio, please."

He poured it out. Placed in front of her. She smacked the payment down on the bar. She didn't have to tell him to keep the change. He already knew. His eyes trailed from her smirk to her neck. 

"Let me wear it tonight."

Kim Taehyung, his co-worker and fellow bartender for the night, spoke up.

"You're a fucking psychopath, Jungkook."

She raised the shot glass and grinned. Downed it with one gulp. Tipped her head back to do it, so the white leather collar covered with clear Swarovski crystals glittered menacingly, the large silver ring on the center thudding against her collarbones. There was a chain attached to the ring, the end looped around and hooked to a white leather band her left wrist. 

She lowered the glass, placing it on the napkin upside down. Unfazed, acting as if she had just taken a sip of water. That wide grin still playing on those dark red lips, teeth white and brighter than most people’s futures. She reached up behind her head.

The buckle unclicked with finality. 

The club was insanely busy, but it was like time stopped. Nothing but those dangerous eyes, red lipstick and the scent of her perfume, clinging on to the white leather as it neared, closer. Closer. It disappeared from his vision, brushing against his neck. He could smell her perfume on the leather now. 

Sweet chestnut. Spiced pepper. Hint of musky, burnt wood. 

Intense. 

"Here you go, Jeon Jungkook," she purred, fitting the bondage collar into place and pulling it taut. He gasped. She loosened it a hair. He could breathe just fine, but it was molded to his neck now, the metal ring hitting his tie and shirt collar. 

"You know he has a whole damn shift, don't you?" Taehyung muttered, in the middle of making a cocktail. 

She chuckled. 

"Of course." 

She backed up, and Jungkook almost whimpered, but he controlled himself. She unhooked the chain from the ring, still grinning. Dangerous. So dangerous. 

"Now you can work." 

Jungkook couldn't take his eyes off her. 

"You know how this goes, pet. You've watched me all this time, haven't you?" 

She laughed, almost maniacally, and disappeared into the crowd. 

"You. Are. Crazy," Taehyung hissed. "You're lucky the manager isn't here tonight and I'm in charge."

Jungkook turned to face his friend. Curly dark hair, honey tan skin, handsome strong features, and a scowl on his normally boxy smile. The metal ring knocked into Jungkook's chest, heavy and foreboding. The Swarovski crystals glittered points of light all over his chin and vest, scattered by the flashing club lights.

Jungkook’s lips curved into a wicked smirk. Taehyung rolled his eyes, already knowing his reply. 

"That's why I asked."

-

"Shot of Don Julio, please."

Jungkook did not know it then, but this request would become familiar to him.

"Hey, hey, been a while. How's it going?"

Jungkook was in the middle was chatting pleasantly with three girls when she slid up to the counter. He was making the girls' cocktails, but they all froze when they saw her. The entire length of the bar seemed to still at her appearance. Guys, girls, everyone in between and on the fringe, sneaking glances or just full-on gawking. It was hard not to stare. 

The woman was wearing a white bondage collar covered with Swarovski crystals.

The metal ring that laid against her collarbones had a silver chain that connected to a matching leather band on her left wrist, the excess wrapping around several times. It clinked against the wood top of the bar as she elegantly laid her hands on the edge. She was wearing a long, slinky, forest green satin dress with high slits in the front, hair slicked back into a ponytail, ears dotted with dangling green gems and silver studs. Dangerous eyes framed with black, dark red lipstick. 

She acknowledged no one but Taehyung and yet her presence silenced them all. Only Taehyung was completely unfazed, pouring out the shot cleanly, with extended reach and his typical showiness. 

"Ah, business trip and all that nonsense. I did end up going to Vegas, which was fun, but you know me, I'm not a gambler," she sighed dismissively.

Taehyung chuckled. "You bring the collar?" He spoke to her with his usual smooth baritone voice.

She snickered. "Maybe." The faintest hint of a smirk on her lips, making one question if it was there or not. Taehyung’s brows raised, his attention on her and her alone.

"Bad girl."

It was hard to tell if Taehyung was flirting or not. But that was the point. His brown eyes sparkled with amusement. Newcomers would swoon over that look. Regulars cooed over that look. Her? She merely traced a finger over the lip of the glass and ticked an eyebrow, full smirk on display now. 

Then she picked up the glass and downed it with one gulp. 

Jungkook's eyes widened. He expected her to choke or at least make a face, but she placed the glass upside-down on the bar calmly. Not even a shake of her head. So quick, so efficient, leaving nothing behind. She placed the bills on the counter. Taehyung grinned.

"Keep the change, Taehyung."

She was about to leave the bar, but Taehyung called her name in a low purr. Jungkook jerked his head to him, confused. Taehyung only used that tone when he was trying to entice someone. It always worked. She turned her head, ponytail swishing, eyebrow arching elegantly. 

Taehyung quirked his head to Jungkook beside him. 

"New guy. Jeon Jungkook. Say hello."

Her gaze shifted to him. He got a good look into those dangerous eyes now. The tip of her tongue flitted out and licked her lips. Jungkook felt his chest constrict. 

Smirk. 

"Hey, Jungkook."

A cold shiver slid down his spine. 

She turned around, disappearing into the crowd. 

-

"What's her deal?"

"You'll see," was Taehyung's answer. 

-

Later that night, Jungkook saw her again in the chaos. Except she wasn’t at the bar. She was standing off to the side, the chain wrapped around her left hand.

Her neck was bare.

The leather bondage collar was on a woman who was nervously ordering a martini from Jungkook, eyes flitting about, her already blushed cheeks three shades redder.

Jungkook was used to the patrons being nervous around him. He had a work persona – suave, personable, charming. But it was clear she was apprehensive for a different reason. The crystals on the white collar glittered on her neck, scattering light across her chin and the top of her gold minidress. Even Jungkook couldn’t keep up his work persona seeing this obvious display of power. He just made the drink mechanically and slid it over to her with a napkin.

He saw the woman reach down to her purse, but then an elegant, chain-covered hand slid down her shoulder, resting just above the collar of the square-necked dress. The young woman gulped leaning back against her. Dangerous eyes. Dark red lipstick.

“Don’t you remember, pet? Drinks on me.”

She placed the crisp bills on the counter. Her fingertips brushed against the top of the woman’s breast and she squeaked, pressing back into that green dress. Those dangerous eyes found Jungkook’s shocked ones. Her lips parted, tracing her teeth. She leaned in, lips brushing against the woman’s ear, right in front of him.

“What do you say to the sweet man who made you your drink?”

Pink tongue sliding out, tracing the woman’s earlobe. If possible, the woman turned redder, backing into that green dress and those graceful arms, as if she could hide while wearing a crystal-studded bondage collar.

“T-Thank you.”

“His name is Jungkook, pet.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened.

The woman’s eyes glazed over a bit with the soft, teasing licking to her ears.

“T-Thank you, J-Jungkook…”

Now Jungkook’s dick was impatiently punching the inside of his pants, fighting to get out.

“N… no problem…”

That chain covered hand reached out and curled around the martini, pulling it towards the two women. Those dangerous eyes lingered on him before they returned to the woman in the gold dress.

“Let’s find a quiet corner, you and I,” she purred darkly.

And then she disappeared into the crowd, leading the woman by the chain leash.

-

“Holy shit.”

“Yup,” was Taehyung’s calm reply.

-

She would always come in with the same leather collar and leave with someone else wearing it.

Leading them with the silver chain wrapped around her left wrist.

Men.

Women.

Those in-between.

Those on the fringe.

All of them different in their own ways. All of them willingly led around for a few hours with a crystal-covered white leather bondage collar before leaving for what Jungkook could only assume to be a very good night. When they looked nervous, her arm would be around them, cooing in their ears, offering sweet praises or stern reprimands. They must have discussed beforehand, because Jungkook could tell they were into it, hanging on her every word, eagerly letting themselves to be seduced by a stranger. Some she would kiss freely, the other embarrassed and aroused. Some she would barely touch, the other pining quietly, desire building with every look. Probably at their own request.

One commonality.

In the collar, they were all her pets.

“You should thank Taehyung, pet.”

“Don’t be rude to Jungkook, pet, or you’ll be punished.”

“You talk back one more time and I will pour this glass onto the bar and make you lick it up like the pet you are.”

Jungkook was glad he worked behind the counter. No one could see his reactions to her words. Well, except…

“Bro.” A flick to the back of his head. “Pay attention to the customers.”

Jungkook jumped at the baritone voice. Taehyung raised an eyebrow at him. Then he smirked, glancing his eyes down for half a second. Jungkook jerked his hips away, scowling, turning to a waiting patron, who was also staring at this woman curling her fingers around the silver collar ring, yanking the man in a suit forward to whisper in his ear, turning his face red and his knuckles on the counter white. Jungkook only heard a little bit.

“…if I make you cum right here? Let you explode in your underwear right now and make you walk around with your own cum soaking through your pants and the collar around your neck like the dirty pet you are?”

Even Jungkook’s ears heated.

“… M-Master, please…” the man whispered, nearly a moan.

Something was happening on the other side of the bar.

Jungkook could not let himself hear anymore, otherwise he was going to explode in his pants.

She seemed to have different styles that she rotated between, reflected by her clothes. Slinky dresses, tailored suits, casual streetwear, cute minidresses, but always with the white bondage collar and chain. Her different outfits reflected what she was looking for that night. Someone feistier usually went for the more covered-up, elegant ensembles. The timid ones went for the sexy, confident style. It was fascinating and intimidating to watch. Taehyung seemed to be amused whenever she appeared, verbally pointing out prospective targets to Jungkook, casually betting on who would be tempted next.

Time passed.

Weeks.

Months.

Play it cool, Jungkook.

“Shot of Don Julio, please.”

He poured the shot. Slid it over on a napkin, smooth.

Those dangerous eyes raked over him. He was in his uniform – black vest, white dress shirt, neat tie, black apron, crisp black slacks, although she couldn’t see his lower half. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing his tattooed right arm. His black hair was getting long, so he tied the back of it up, leaving a small ponytail and exposing his undercut. His bangs framed his face, brushing against his brows and temples.

The women loved his ponytail.

She inspected his face, the hint of a smirk on those lips. Pulled the glass to her, licking her lips. Today she was in all white. White mesh shirt with a white bra underneath, baggy high-waisted white cargo pants, and white sneakers. Hair slicked back into a high ponytail. Dark eyes, scarlet red lips. As usual, the Swarovski crystal-studded white bondage collar around her neck, chain wrapped around her left wrist.

Fucking hot as hell.

She rose the glass, cocked a brow at him.

“I like hair long enough to pull.”

She downed the glass, lowered it, turning it upside-down and sliding it back to him. Full-on smirk now as his ears heated. He was about to make small conversation, but she raised her right hand, placing her index finger on her lips. The left suddenly produced the bills, setting them on the counter.

“Keep the change, Jungkook.”

Purred his name like a lover. Chuckled and turned away, disappearing into the crowd.

“Your mouth forgot how to work?” Taehyung mused beside him.

Jungkook clicked his tongue. “Shut up.”

Taehyung chuckled.

-

“You ever ask to wear it?”

Taehyung snorted, in the middle of cleaning the glasses after closing. “Hell no. I heard once she got a guy to jack off on the hood of his own car in the parking lot. I’ll keep my dick to myself, thanks.”

Jungkook was wiping down the counter. “Mmm, you sure collect a lot of numbers for a guy who keeps his dick to himself.”

Taehyung snickered. “That’s part of the job. I’m not actually going to call them. That’d be crazy.” He pointed his towel at Jungkook, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Don’t tell me you’re considering it. During work? Are you insane?”

Jungkook shrugged.

Taehyung shot him an exasperated look. “If the manager finds out–”

“What if he doesn’t?”

“What if she’s a serial killer?”

“I didn’t say I was going to take her home or let her take me to her home.”

Taehyung jabbed the bar counter. “What the fuck are you going to do? Let her fuck you right here?”

Jungkook didn’t say anything.

Taehyung threw up his hands. “No!”

“Maybe.” The mischief was sneaking into Jungkook’s tone now, unable to hide it any longer.

Taehyung looked like he was having an aneurysm. “What, are you into that shit or something? Actually no, don’t answer that. I already knew the answer,” he winced, slapping the towel on his shoulder. “You can’t be serious. She’s a regular! Everyone is going to know why you’re wearing it.”

Oh, Jungkook knew that. His dick knew that too. Fuck. It was making him hard just thinking about it.

“Okay… Okay…” Taehyung seemed to be steeling himself even though he wasn’t the one that was going to be doing it. “I don’t actually think she’s a psychopath. She’s come here for a long time. I think you’re a psychopath for wanting to wear it during work. All night, dude.”

Jungkook’s cock twitched, soaking his underwear.

Fuck yes.

“All fucking night. Jeez.”

-

"Shot of Don Julio, please."

This was it. This was the night. Black leather two-piece set of bra and miniskirt, matching thigh-high boots, black bomber jacket with a white dragon on the back. Glittering crystal-studded white leather bondage collar, silver chain from the collar ring to her left wrist. Black liner framing dangerous eyes, dark red lips.

“Let me wear it tonight.”

Jungkook had agonized on how to ask millions of times, chewing on his lip as he stared into the bathroom mirror at home. He thought about how it would make him feel. Edged himself to it. Didn’t let himself finish. He didn’t want to finish with imagination.

He wanted to finish to the real thing.

Sweet chestnut. Spiced pepper. Hint of musky, burnt wood, mixing with the scent of leather. Smelled so fucking good, intoxicating him, making his cock throb. The heavy weight was on his neck now. Jungkook didn’t have the chain. He wanted it, but he couldn’t work like that. She seemed to know in advance, taking it off without asking, and letting him be. All the eyes on him, knowing. He acted as if it wasn’t there, charming and suave as usual, nerves jumping and jittering under his skin.

Guys. Girls. Everyone in-between and on the fringe. Looking at him with envy, with pity, with lust, sometimes all three. Jungkook made drinks all night, the heavy silver ring banging against his tie, sending shocks of anticipation through his torso and down to his core. Taehyung was beside him, mumbling under his breath every time he saw it.

“You’re crazy, my dude, actually insane…”

Jungkook thought he would be nervous, but he actually felt calm. Relieved. She had handed it over with a gleam in her eye, not hiding how pleased she was.

“It looks pretty on you, pet.”

All the way at the far end of the bar. Jungkook turned to face her, seeing her chin perched on the back of her hand, staring at him with a hungry expression. Shivers danced up and down his spine, breath catching his throat. He tilted his head.

“Shot of Don Julio?”

She smirked. “Oh, I’ll take more shots. But later, my pet.”

Oh, fuck. The way she drawled out her words, red lips forming them neatly and sensually. Thank God he was behind the counter.

“I can’t wait to ravish you.”

She turned and re-disappeared into the crowd. The pre-cum in his underwear was making life unbearable, the tip of his cock sliding against it and stimulating himself just the slightest amount, but not enough to be satisfied. Jungkook wanted to run to the back and get off right then and there, but he couldn’t.

He couldn’t and that made it better.

-

"Don't forget to lock up."

Taehyung was about to turn around, but spun back, jabbing Jungkook in the chest with his finger. 

"And clean up after yourself, you animal."

Taehyung pointed to the end of the bar. A single bottle of Don Julio Blanco with the pour spout in it. One shot glass.

"She paid for the whole damn bottle," he muttered. "I really don't wanna know what you two are going to do with that."

-

She swung the chain round and round. 

The anticipation in his chest was threatening to explode. 

Smirk on those red lips. Dangerous eyes. 

"You want to tell me what you like? Or you want me to take you on a ride?"

The chain wasn't attached yet. She was standing maybe a meter away from him, swinging it in the air from her left wrist. He was standing in front of the bar, hands in his pockets, apron removed, black oxfords together. Still wearing the bondage collar. He didn't take it off all night. A few people asked about it. Some teased. 

"Felt like being decorated tonight. You like it?"

"Heh, maybe you'll let me wear it," one woman flirted.

"Oh, it's not mine. It's hers."

"Hey, darling."

Her chain clinking against the bar as she smiled at the startled woman. 

"My pet providing excellent service to you? Or do I have to reprimand him later?" she purred.

"O-oh... I didn't know he was taken. I'm sorry!"

And the woman had scooted away quickly, not even collecting the drink she paid for. 

Jungkook liked that. The idea of being taken. Forcefully, with very little discussion. He smiled at her now, listening to the chain swish through the air. In general, he was careful with his sexual partners and his heart. That was the safe thing to do. 

But sometimes he just wanted to be pinned down and fucked like a whore.

He locked his gaze with hers. Those dangerous eyes. Slow hungry smirk on those dark red lips. He hadn’t had a chance until now. Waited a fucking long time for the stars to align. Now the chance was right in front of him. 

"Take me on a ride," Jungkook breathed. 

The chain jerked and wound around her forearm rapidly, snapping into the sleeve of her satin bomber jacket. The sound of metal on metal was loud in the empty club.

"Did Taehyung tell you that you're crazy?" she chuckled, taking a step towards him. Her black leather thigh-high boots made a loud thud when the heel hit the floor.

"Yeah."

She advanced on him slowly. "Are you?"

"Little bit."

Stopped right in front of him. She dropped her arm and the chain tumbled down, landing in her right hand. She took the end, held it up next to her head, clicking the carabiner. To be honest, it wasn't a very thick or strong chain. Definitely only for decoration and symbolism. 

"You can call me Master or by name. Nothing else."

Jungkook smirked. 

"Yes, Master."

She hooked the chain onto the metal ring on bondage collar. 

"Polite. I like that."

Those dangerous eyes flashed.

"Get on the bar.”

-

Sweet chestnut. 

Spiced pepper.

Hint of burnt wood, like a smoking fireplace.

Standing over him. 

She climbed onto the bar top, her sleek ponytail swaying. She had removed her jacket, standing over him in that bra, miniskirt, and thigh-high boots combination, all black leather. Legs, waist, tits, all looking so fucking good standing on the very bar he worked at less than an hour ago. The two of them were connected by the chain from her left wrist and the ring of the bondage collar around his neck. 

"What gave you the idea to do something so crazy, pet?"

Heart beating fast, trying to take it all in, that dark alluring voice and those delicious red lips forming each syllable neatly and sensually. She tugged sharply at the chain and he squeaked, rising to his elbows. 

"Answer."

Jungkook swallowed, almost moaning at the tightness of the crystal collar, the prefect unyielding pressure surrounding his throat. "I... watch you whenever you come in. Listen to all those things you say to them." Arousal stirring, flaring up inside him, remembering all those dirty words, all those people with those dark lips against their ears. Wanting it to be him. Wanting to wear that heavy prize on his neck. "They always look so... satisfied being held by you."

She smirked. Crouched down, getting onto her hands and knees, crawling between his legs. A cat-like prowl, eyes dazzling. Was it due to the crystals on his neck or the predatory glint in those approaching orbs?

"You want to be satisfied too, pet?"

"Y-Yes."

"Used or denied?"

"U... used."

The scent of sweet chestnut, spiced pepper, burned wood, stronger and stronger as she neared, now in between his thighs. He could see down her cleavage, the prefect swells of her breasts, and, behind her head, the black leather stretched taut over her ass. 

"Kisses?"

"N... need them."

So close he could feel her heat. She lifted her hands, placing them on either side of him. Breasts almost touching his chest. He was breathing hard and every inhale very nearly brushed against the black leather.

“Abuse?”

He opened his mouth, but she snapped forward suddenly, leaving him breathless.

“Ah, sorry, Jungkook.” Lashes lowering, making those dark eyes even more dangerous. “That was rhetorical.”

There was no way to describe her kiss except intoxication. Soft, demanding, intense, smearing lipstick onto his skin, tongue tracing the inner rim of his lips, making him beg for more. She flicked her tongue onto his teeth and he gasped, trying to open his mouth more, hoping she would do more, but that slippery tongue escaped him every time. He tried to lean in and yelped as her hand darted up and fastened around his ponytail, sudden pain shooting from his scalp, yanking back roughly and breaking the kiss.

“N-no!” he whined. “P-Please… want more, please…”

Jungkook could see her lipstick was smeared onto her chin a little. He probably looked worse. She flicked her wrist and he moaned, pain snaking through his head.

“Down.”

He slid his elbows down, head now against the counter. She towered over him, face hovering millimeters from his. Snickered against his lips before kissing him again, putting her full weight on his chest. He moaned into her mouth, leather, skin, sweet chestnut and spiced pepper all over him now, crushing him with softness, grinding against his entire torso as she made out with his face, tongue thrusting brutally into his mouth, fast, hard, rough, leaving him gasping and shuddering for breath. He tried to touch her waist, but she grabbed his wrist and slammed it down onto the wood. Jungkook whimpered and his other hand was pinned down too, growl in her chest.

Her body slid from side to side like a snake. Jungkook groaned into her mouth, body suddenly on fire as her leather-covered one pressed all over him, onto his thighs, his crotch, his stomach, his pecs, chain between them clattering on the bar. He couldn’t focus on one sensation, all his senses crowded and overwhelmed, nails curling into the wood, lips swelling from the force of her kisses, cock twitching in his already ruined underwear, his muscles flexing at the flashes of pressure invading his whole body, the wood counter uncomfortable and hard against his back.

Neck gripped by the bondage collar, preventing him from taking large breaths, reducing them to shallow, needy pants.

She ripped her head from him and he whined, palms smacking the bar. She chuckled, lifting her right hand, his left. Turned it around. His sleeves were still rolled up. Through hazy eyes, Jungkook could see her lipstick was everywhere. She pressed her lips into his wrist and he shuddered, feeling her kiss all over his forearm, wiping her lipstick onto his skin, using him like a fucking napkin. He shivered as she bit down near his wrist, sucking hard, his pulse stuttering against her lower lip.

“S-so… much…”

So much sensation that he felt lightheaded, pricks of pain as she nibbled on his wrist, leaving a large, visible hickey on his skin. Jungkook’s brain couldn’t even comprehend that he would probably have to hide that tomorrow. He just wanted more, eyes rolling back as she licked up his arm, all the way to his elbow.

She lifted her body off his suddenly. He found himself rising, trying to chase the escaping warmth.

“Sit up for me, pet. Knees over the edge.”

He scrambled to comply, but it was apparently too slow, because she grabbed him by the black tie and yanked him up, unfurling it in the process. She slid off the bar, boots thumping loudly against the floor. His tie was slipping off, wrapped around her fingers. The chain connecting them jangled, reminding Jungkook of his position. He sat up, turning so he was sitting on the edge of the counter.

She undid his tie expertly, tossing it aside carelessly.

“Unbutton your vest and shirt.”

He undid them, not really watching because she was moving away from him. It took him a second to realize she was going for the bottle of Don Julio. Poured herself a shot, smaller than how much he usually gave her. Threw it back and put the glass on the counter.

Upside-down.

Came back to him, dragging the bottle along the bar top.

Jungkook sucked in a breath, chest now exposed, shirt still half-tucked in. He wasn’t sweaty from work, but he wasn’t exactly clean either.

“Lean back.”

He gasped as the alcohol splashed against his chest, a foreign coldness that was quickly replaced by her lapping tongue, sending shocks and shivers all over his skin and tearing moans from his throat. She put the bottle down and ripped his shirt out of his pants, pushing it down his shoulders, tongue running all over his chest, wet and dripping, the scents of sharp tequila and sweet chestnut mixing together.

“Mmm, yes, I prefer this to the glass,” she murmured against his skin, curling her tongue around one of his nipples and flicking it hard. His body squirmed from the strong burst of pleasure. She fitted her left arm under the small of his back, chain digging into his skin, and pressed him down on it, forcing him to arch his back awkwardly.  Licked up and down his abs, pouring a little more tequila onto his stomach and slurping it up. Jungkook hissed, biting his lip hard as he watched her red-stained lips suck and lap at his hot skin, leaving red scrapes from her teeth.

“Ah, I apologize,” she breathed. Dangerous eyes flicked up to him. “I can mark you, can’t I?”

“Fuck yes, you can,” Jungkook blurted out, panting hard. “Whatever you want, Master.”

She chuckled, abruptly dropping her left arm. He almost fell but she clamped her hand around the chain and pulled it taut, yanking him forward. The force wrapped around his neck and placed the pressure at the base, straightening him immediately. His shirt and vest hung by his upper arms, torso naked and trembling.

Jungkook reeked of expensive liquor and her perfume.

His eyes shifted to the bottle of Don Julio beside him. “You like top shelf.”

She ticked her eyebrows and grinned. “That’s why you’re on top of the bar, pet.”

His heart stopped. If possible, the praise made him more breathless than the kissing and the licking.

She placed her elbow against his thigh, using her other hand to tap his belt buckle. His breathing hitched as her palm planted down, rubbing his semi-hard length through his slacks.

“You like watching me, Jungkook?” she drawled. “I know Taehyung does.”

He exhaled hard, hips quivering with every roll of her wrist, cock jerking happily from the much-needed stimulation. “Yes and no.”

She quirked her head, ponytail swishing. “Oh? Elaborate.”

Jungkook winced as her fingertips began to focus on the head, a little too forceful for the sensitive skin, but he liked it. Craved it. “B-Because… I wanted it to be m-me…” His words extended out to a moan, now rutting his hips into her hand, chasing the pleasure.

“Oh, I know.”

She increased the pace as she spoke. He inhaled a little too fast, squeaking out a surprised noise.

“I see you trying to eavesdrop every time I approach the bar. Naughty little pet. You shouldn’t be so nosy.”

“T-They want it… They w-want someone to hear…” he gasped, rocking his erection into her fingers, the intense pleasure and borderline pain crawling into his core, pooling into every crack of his sanity. Too good. It felt too good. He could barely think. “They want someone to k-know…”

“Takes one to know one,” she purred.

Close. So fucking close.

“D-don’t… finish me…” he breathed.

“Okay.”

She removed her hand.

He whined at the loss even though he was the one who asked for it. She clicked her tongue, highly amused. Her left wrist flipped and the chain smacked him in the chest, the cold metal making him jump and hiss. Her hand shot out and slid the tequila bottle further away from his body.

“You knock that over and I’m going to make you lick it off this dirty floor,” she barked. “Too expensive for you to be wasting.”

She was very clearly wasting it before by pouring it all over him, but Jungkook suspected that he shouldn’t mention it. “Y-Yes, Master.”

She tapped his erection. His cock throbbed, begging for release.

“Get these clothes out of the way.”

Jungkook hastily reached down and fumbled with his pants, unbuckling his belt, pushing them down, grimacing as his bare ass touched the bar. It was clean, he had cleaned it after all, but it still felt fucking wrong to be sitting on it mostly naked, pushing his pants to his knees. He pulled his hands out of his shirt and vest, dumping them on the counter. His stiff cock stuck straight up, the veins straining against the length, head red and aching, pooling pre-cum at the tip.

His hot balls were touching the cold bar.

That was wrong.

Fuck.

His cock twitched as the thought crossed his mind.

“Move it out of the way.”

She waved a hand at his cock. He whimpered, using his right hand to hold it back, shuddering as the tip touched his lower belly, smearing himself on his skin. It pulsated against his fingertips, pleading for release. She grinned. Jungkook gulped. Those eyes were dangerous. So dangerous.

She cupped her hands under his balls and scooped them up.

He squealed at the sudden kneading of the sensitive hot-cold of his skin. It didn’t hurt yet, but it was teetering on the line of strangely pleasant and slight agony. Hold on a second, Jungkook thought – he didn’t want to get his nuts destroyed before he came at least once.

“A-ah, w-wait, don’t hu–”

“Silence.”

Jungkook shut his mouth at her harsh tone. Maybe she was a serial killer.

She cocked a brow, seeming to notice his unease. She pulled at them. He gulped. Looked down. Her fingertips were holding the edges taut, his actual testicles dropping down as she stretched the skin of his scrotum.

Wait.

“Pour me a shot.”

What?

“S… sorry?”

She ticked her chin to the bottle. “Shot of Don Julio, please.”

Oh my God.

She wanted him to pour the expensive tequila on his fucking nuts.

His balls were barely going to hold a sip. She stared at him intently, brow still raised, waiting. His cock swelled even more. This didn’t exactly hurt, but the heat of embarrassment was creeping up Jungkook’s neck, to his ears, all over his cheeks. His free hand crawled across the bar top, feeling for the bottle, not taking his eyes away from that dangerous gaze. Her red-stained lips curved into a wicked smirk. His hand was shaking, the Don Julio splashing in the clear glass. He tipped the bottle slowly.

Jungkook poured a little on his balls.

“F-Fuck!”

It was cold. He nearly dropped the liquor because she instantly swept down, slurping it off his scorching skin. He quickly put the glass bottle on the bar and pushed it away lightly, moaning as she sucked one of his balls into her warm mouth, squeezing his eyes shut as her tongue assaulted him, swirling around his now tequila-covered balls, replacing the alcohol with saliva, her groans of satisfaction vibrating his skin, sending tremors of pleasure up his spine.

“Oh, s-shit…” Jungkook wheezed, feeling her pop off and switch sides, just as intense, only now realizing that both alcohol and her spit was dripping onto the countertop, collecting under his ass, but he couldn’t even think about how uncomfortable that was, because there was too much pleasure in the warmth of her suffocating mouth, he could think of nothing else, hands splayed out, gasping for air, chest heaving with effort.

She brushed his hand away from his cock and began pumping him as she sucked his balls, adding to the overwhelming ecstasy, his erection finally getting some fucking attention, and it was all happening too fast, too much sensation at once, leaving him hopelessly panting out her name. The pressure in his core torrented, threatening violently, but he didn’t want to cum, not yet, wanting to last as long as possible in this crushing mouth sucking on his balls and this relentless jerking of his dick, her fingers pinching the base of the head, the slickness of his own pre-cum adding the right amount of lubrication so it didn’t exactly hurt.

It just almost did.

And that felt amazing.

“I-I’m gonna cum, fuck, is that o-okay…? Fuck, please, Master, is it okay?”

She didn’t actually speak, only dialed up the ferocity and speed of her stroking and the suction on his balls and Jungkook tipped over the edge, immediately in free-fall, throwing his head back and wailing as he came fiercely, shooting strings of cum all over her right shoulder and onto the leather bra, splattering it with white. He choked, panicking slightly when he realized his mess, but he didn’t have long to consider it because she detached from his balls and wrapped her lips around the head of his cock, sliding all the way to the base, the sensitive tip hitting the back of her throat.

“Oh, fuck me!”

Jungkook saw flashes of light, pleasure turning white-hot, racking his entire frame. The grip on the chain tightened and she pulled hard, his head arching even further back so his long hair brushed against his shoulder blades for a split second, the sides of his neck pinched because of the bondage collar being tugged down by the metal ring. He became lightheaded, her mouth moving up and down, the warm, wet vise taking over, claiming his senses, moans ripped from his throat as his length was compelled to hardness once more, the head rubbing harshly because of how deep she was going, so fucking tight that it didn’t seem real or possible. Her nails dug into his thighs, keeping them spread wide.

“So f-fast, ah, too fast, p-please, oh fuuuuuuuk…”

Jungkook had no idea what the fuck he was saying or if he sounded sexy or not, because he was too desperate to cum again, watching his previous orgasm trickling down her shoulder and breast due to how fast and wild she was going, the sloppy squelching mixing with her grating, feral noises of lust, pushing him to the edge once more, no, basically throwing him off the cliff, his orgasm slamming into him violently.

“Fuck!”

He could do nothing but scream at the top of his lungs, erupting in her tight throat, euphoria soaring through his nerves, half-strangling himself with the leather collar, the low oxygen intensifying everything, soaring him to a new peak of pleasure. She gulped him down, throttling his cock a little with her swallows. He moaned deeply, head falling to his chest, oxygen rushing back, gratification ricocheting in waves up his torso and flooding his mind.

Everything smelled like expensive tequila, cum, and her sweet-peppery perfume.

Holy fucking shit.

He was vaguely registering that she was still licking him, slower, softer this time. Continuously. Jungkook was going to work behind this bar tomorrow. Maybe this was a bad idea. How was he not supposed to think about this the whole fucking time he was working? How was he supposed to look at Don Julio tequila and not think about pouring it on his balls and her sucking it off?

Taehyung was right.

He was a fucking psychopath.

Still gently, carefully licking him. His cock twitched, swelling once more. There was no way. He couldn’t believe it. The chain clinked and she tapped it against his pecs steadily, the cold metal hitting his sweaty, heated, shaking chest. He shivered. Her tongue pressed against the base of the head, teasing the thin skin there.

“A-ah… Master…?”

“Hmm?”

That was the closest thing to a verbal response Jungkook had received in the last ten minutes.

“It’s… s-sensitive…”

“Mhm.”

Well, Jungkook might think he couldn’t get out another, but his dick certainly had other plans. The consistent softness of her tongue was building his arousal once again, borderline painful. He whimpered her name. A mistake.

Those dangerous eyes opened and locked with his.

Hungry. Predatory. Daring him to tell her to stop.

Jungkook sucked in a tight breath, cock now fully at attention. She smirked, sliding her mouth off, slow. So slow. The thin moan escaped from his lips, drifting down his chin. Ghosting her tongue over him, barely enough friction, somehow always knowing the thin tightrope. She straightened, letting out a measured breath. He noticed the heaviness of her exhale despite her smug expression. She was affected.

Good.

She reached over and plucked the pour sprout from the tequila. Tossed it, letting it roll across the bar. It fell over the edge, clattering onto metal. Jungkook’s eyes widened. It had fallen into the sink. A simple, almost lazy action that reflected much more. She knew exactly where the sink was. Highly observant and well-calculated.

She clutched the neck of the bottle and brought it to her lips, taking a sip.

Acted like it was fucking water and not burning death.

“Having fun, pet?” she drawled, the lush scent of Don Julio smacking him in the face as she spoke. He nodded quickly. She wound the chain around her left hand, shortening it. Put the bottle down and reached over to her jacket, flipping it open. There were pockets on the inside. Was it reversible? He didn’t have time to ponder as she pulled out a foil packet. Brought it over with one swift sweep of her arm, tapping him in the nose with it.

“Put this on for me.”

Jungkook took the condom with a shaking hand. “Should I–”

“Put it on? Yes.”

He was going to ask if he should change positions, but he cut himself off and hurriedly ripped open the condom, sliding it on. He hissed; the head of his cock was so sensitive it was dark purple. How was he going to last any amount of ti–

“Lift me.”

Jungkook bit his lip and placed his hands on her waist, picking her up. She helped him, springing onto the bar easily. He only had to give her a small boost and then she was in position, knees on either side of his thighs.

“What–?”

Jungkook didn’t know why he was asking questions anymore because she didn’t bother answering. Her reply was yanking up her miniskirt, revealing her thin panties sucked into her pussy due to the wetness between her legs. The peppery warm chestnut of her perfume mixed with the scent of pure sex, her core dripping a honey-like sweetness. He choked a little on his words, breathless as she moved her panties aside with a deft hook of her fingers.

He had maybe one second of appreciating the prettiest pussy he had ever seen before it nearly made him black out by sinking onto his overstimulated cock.

“Oh my fucking fuck,” Jungkook moaned, not making any sense, but it didn’t matter because she purred in satisfaction, squeezing his length deliciously and making him harder. Tight, but soft, almost too hot, but also perfect, planting down onto his balls, smearing them with her juices. Had his balls ever gotten such attention before? No. Had there ever been so many fluids on his balls before?

Also, no, because no sane person pours tequila on their nuts.

“Mmm, feels nice, Jungkook,” she breathed deeply, rocking her hips. He planted his hands on the bar, groaning as she began to ride him, the black leather of her boots and skirt squeaking as she moved. “Gonna use this dick to cum.”

“Y-Yes, please…” he shuddered.

She slapped their hips together, leaning forward so she wouldn’t fall. The heady scent of her perfume invaded his nose, smokey and distinct. He heard the sound of glass scraping on wood, and then a slosh of alcohol. The bright, rich scent of Don Julio beside his head.

She was drinking from the fucking bottle while riding his cock.

Jungkook didn’t know if that was disrespectful or attractive, but she was increasing the speed and force of her movements, snarling low in her throat. He lifted his hips slightly and gasped as he hit deeper, her walls closing in on the head.

“Ah, fuck, yes, Jungkook,” she moaned, raspy and animalistic. The tequila was dampening her inhibitions and she kept fucking him harder and harder, body line waving and smacking her ass down onto his thighs. The liquor sloshed in the bottle; two-thirds gone. “That’s it, you perfect little pet, fuck, how dare you hide all this behind the counter?” Dangerous eyes flashing, pressing her forehead into his, her chain-covered hand tangling into his ponytail and tugging on it roughly. He whimpered into her lips, gasping her name, and she grinned like the devil. His hips were matching her pace, rising as she came down, increasing the force, amplifying the overbearing ecstasy, every thrust threatening to drag him over the edge, but he refused, he absolutely refused, gritting his teeth and fucking her back, now growling too, an animal on the chain leash, wearing her crystal-studded collar, sweat dripping down his back.

“Cum, Master,” Jungkook snarled. “Want you to cum and murder my dick, choke the fucking orgasm out of him.”

She chuckled, and now both arms were on his shoulders, one hand pulling on his hair, the other still holding the bottle of Don Julio, riding him so hard and rough that some of the liquor splashed down his back, soaking into his skin, mixing with sweat, a whole damn mess all over the bar. He didn’t care, staring into those dangerous eyes, seeing those pupils dilate, ravenous and drunk, not with alcohol, but power, the power of aggressively fucking the damn bartender at the very spot she had ordered her first shot of the night.

She threw her head back, an elated gasp of erotic validation as his name seeped out from those red-stained lips.

“Oh, fuuuck, Jungkook!”

All the way to the top.

Top shelf, even.

And the plummeting fall, his orgasm smashing into him with the harsh clench of her pussy, her juices gushing all over his length and sliding down his balls, adding to the large puddle underneath him. Her walls clamped around his jolting cock, strangling the head, and he saw fucking stars, gasping out her name as he shot aggressively into the condom, probably not that much, but it still felt like the life was being sucked out of him, dirty ecstasy burning through his veins, the leather bondage collar pressing against the sides of his neck and shooting a firecracker rush of sinful pleasure straight up into his head, flaring all over his stinging scalp.

So.

Fucking.

Good.

Easily the hardest he had ever cum in his entire life. All three times this night.

Holy fuck.

He felt the grip on his hair loosen. She was panting into his chin, eyes closed. Brought her right hand around, barely any left inside that glass bottle. Most of it was splattered onto the bar top, dripping down his body, or underneath his ass.

She drank the last of the liquor, chuckling.

“What a great use of Don Julio.”

-

“Do I even wanna know?”

“No.”

Taehyung looked at the bar, wincing at the scent of industrial strength cleaner still clinging to the counter even though Jungkook had sprayed it down with water about three times. Jungkook’s dress shirt sleeves were not rolled up today.

“You’re lucky it’s Monday,” Taehyung muttered.

“Mhm, and tomorrow is my day off.”

Taehyung raised a hand. “Do not tell me. I do not want to know.”

Jungkook grinned.

Are you doing anything tomorrow night?

She had handed him the end of the chain when he inquired.

Where will my collar be tomorrow night? She had asked with a dangerous gleam in her eye.

The crystal-studded, white leather bondage collar and silver chain were sitting on his bed, waiting for the night to arrive.

--

masterpost

[thorne93]

History Repeats (Part 4)

Prompt: Life’s hard, right? Well throw in a not so great job, a broken heart, and chasing a pipe dream in LA. But could someone come along to make all the bad shit disappear? Or is he just another heartbreak waiting around the bend?

Warnings: language, drug addiction, alcohol addiction, angst/heartbreak, adult themes (??)

Word Count: 2386

Note: Aesthetic made by @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​ because she’s absolutely amazing Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​ . Brainstorming from @carryonmyswansong​​

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before you knew it, you’d fallen into a routine with Hayden, somewhat. It wasn’t like clockwork, but there was definitely something that had become part of your pattern.

It seemed that Hayden would drop by a few nights a week and ask if you wanted to hang in his room after you got off. You always said yes because for the first several nights, it was a good way to vent and relieve some stress. You two swapped stories of hard working days, then it always seemed to work into the heartbreak you were both still going through. Realizing that not being with your exes was best, and accepting that fate were two very different things, especially for Hayden, having a daughter made it all the worse. 

But after a while, the visits went from bonding, being each other’s support, to being fun filled and like normal friendly hang outs. The two of you talked about Rachel and Jason less, and talked more about yourselves. At one point, he even hooked up his video game console and for several visits, they turned into video game tournaments between you two. It was a fun, easy way to blow off steam after work. 

Of course, sometimes you couldn't meet because he had an early day or you were exhausted from your shift, and that was okay. This was just two friends hanging out and there was no pressure for either of you to constantly want to hang out. In fact, for both of yours’ sakes, and for the sake of the anxiety that you both had, you didn’t over do it, knowing that being sociable for a long time wore on you both.

He listened to you about wanting to be a singer and you shared some of your lyrics with him and he told you stories of his aspirations as an actor and things he was proud and not proud of. Every time he talked about his acting, you felt awful because you were pretty sure you’d only seen two or three of his movies, so you couldn’t tell him your thoughts on any of his work. But he never seemed to mind, he was just happy to have someone that even wanted to talk with him about it. 

Tonight, nearly a month after the first time you’d hung out, you’d gotten onto the topic of how you got into singing, and feeling that it was the only thing you were above average at.

“You can’t be serious,” Hayden admonished.

“No, I am. Come on, name one quality about me that’s better than average,” you challenged, knowing he wouldn’t come up with anything.

“You’re an excellent manager,” he noted.

You laughed, throwing your head back. “Oh, thanks. I’m so good at my job. I’m good at organizing people and running a shift. Big whoop.”

“Okay, fine. How were you in school?”

“Average. I made B’s most of the time.”

“Well you kick my ass on Overwatch all the time, so there’s that,” he said and you wrinkled your nose at him. 

“Har, Har. No. I’m talking real, true talent. Like you! With acting!” you said, pushing on his leg slightly.

“I’m not so sure,” he remarked with an eyebrow twitch and half smile. “But I will say I was fairly good at tennis. Almost got a full scholarship and almost competed on a professional level.”

“See? Like that. That’s amazing. I can’t swing at a damn ball to save my life,” you said, falling back on the couch and throwing your arm over your face, tired from your work day. 

“I bet that’s not true,” Hayden tried in an overly sweet voice.

“You’d lose that bet,” you said, your arm still covering your eyes.

“Good thing I’m not a gambler,” he joked with a laugh and you returned it. 

“I’ll just stick to what I know best,” you said, sighing. 

“Or...I could show you,” he quietly said. So quiet, you weren’t sure that’s what he said.

“What?” you asked as you sat up and removed your arm, looking at him.

Clearing his throat, he repeated himself, speaking up as he did so. “I could show you. How to swing at a ball. Then maybe, in your eyes, you’ll be good at something.”

You eyed him for a moment suspiciously, then you began to laugh as if it were absurd. 

“No...Why?”

He shrugged, his eyes darting forwards, his elbows on his knees as he was leaned forward. “Like I said, to help you.” 

“That’s it?”

“Jesus, Y/N, why are you so skeptical of someone wanting to help you?” he asked, and it meant to come out as a tease, as a joke, but his tone was harsher than he intended. 

He went to apologize, opening his mouth to do so, but you stopped him. Hanging your head, and toying with your fingers, you softly answered, “Because I’ve never had it happen and it be innocent. People don’t just...help people for the hell of it.”

“Well I do and I’m going to help you be a good tennis player,” he vowed.

“Oh, really, Hayden, you don’t want a racket in my hand. I’ll kill you,” you said, shaking your head. “It’ll fly out of my hand and crack your skull. Or I’ll launch a ball right into your chest.”

He laughed, not taking you seriously. “I doubt any of that will happen.”

“I’m serious! This is a terrible idea!” you said, raising your voice, despite the fact that you were about to laugh too. “You really don’t want me handling sports equipment!”

“I’m sure I’ll survive,” he assured. “We’re going.”

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

Now, it was three days later, it was your day off and his, and Hayden was taking you two a recreation center to teach you tennis.

You dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, something comfortable because you had a feeling you’d be moving a lot more than usual. Hayden was looking rather adorable in shorts, a polo, and a baseball cap. He really did look like a tennis player.

The two of you grabbed the equipment and made your way to an indoor court, setting up. All the while you were so worried you wouldn’t be able to hit a single ball. He got everything in place, handed you a racket, then took his place on the other side of the court.

“Have you ever played?” he called across the court.

“A few times in high school.”

“So you remember the rules?”

You shook your head. “No, not really.”

“Okay, no problem,” he said before diving into the rules and logistics of the game. If the ball landed here, this happened, if you hit it here, this happened. If the ball comes at you like this, swing the racket like so...so on and so on. He was a really good teacher. He kept things simple and concise, perfect for you since you never played sports.

Then, the batting began and you were a disaster on the court. You couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn, you were flailing wildly everywhere, and you were slow. Hayden laughed once or twice, but you couldn’t blame him, in fact, it was kind of cute when he laughed at you, because to be honest, you were laughing at your efforts too. 

“Time out,” Hayden suddenly said as he walked over to you. “I think I see the problem,” he noted as he approached you, getting so close you could feel the heat off his body. 

“What?” you wondered as you looked down at your hands, feet, and racket, curious as to what he saw.

“Your footing,” he explained. “Half of tennis is making sure you’re setting your body up to accept the ball, no matter which direction it comes from,” he said as he moved behind you and put his hands on your hips and pivoted them and you followed the motion, trying to suppress the shiver  that wanted to escape due to his nimble hands on your sides. Hayden was your friend, and the last thing you needed was to develop feelings for him. 

“Now set your left foot a little more towards the net,” he instructed softly and you did as you were told. “Now bend slightly at the hips, a little more forward. Great!” he said, stepping back and eyeing you. “You’re holding the racket all wrong. It’s not a baseball bat, you don’t need to grip it like this,” he said, showing you how you were doing it. “If we were playing baseball, that would be perfect. A nice, strong, hold. But in tennis, you need a looser wrist, some range of movement, so that if the ball goes a little farther than you expected or comes back to the left, rather than the right, as you anticipated, you can pivot and shift quickly.” 

You nodded, understanding. 

“Okay, so take your racket,” he said and you took it in both hands, and he slid behind you once more, his chest pressed flush against your back as his body molded around yours in order to show you better. “Now put your hand here,” he said quietly, his voice practically right beside your ear as he took his hand and held yours and placed it on the racket correctly. “And the other, here,” he instructed, physically moving your hand again, adjusting your fingers as need be. “There we are,” he said, a smile in his voice and you turned to smile at him proud that you were finally in a good stance.

Yet, when you turned your head, he was gazing at you already, his eyes were smoldering. Your mouth went dry as your eyes went between his stare and his lips, his hold still firm around you. There was a charge in the air that was nearly strangling you two. Neither of you dared move, your eyes just holding the gaze that you shared, afraid to do what you wanted to do so badly. 

Eventually you both of you moved at the same time, clearing your throats.

“Thanks for showing me that,” you quickly said, trying to erase the tension still hanging in the air.

“Yeah, yeah, any time. I’ll just...go over here and we’ll try again, now that you know how to hold it.”

You nodded, as he took his spot on the other side of the net. He served the ball, and you didn’t hit it the first time, but on the third try, you did, and it felt great. You cheered and jumped, excited that you were finally getting the hang of this, while he congratulated you and ran up to give you a high five which you happily returned.

The two of you continued to play, and it was actually fun now that you could somewhat play. You still were no where near his level of expertise, but you were much better than you had been when you started this afternoon. 

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

After tennis, the two of you had worked up an appetite so Hayden offered to take you to dinner.

“Are you sure you want to?” you asked, knowing he sort of hated being out due to potential media coverage.

“Yeah, it’ll be fine,” he assured with a shrug and a smile as you two got back to his car. 

“I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t wanna do…” you said uneasily. Of course, you’d love to hang out outside of his hotel room, but if it would put him in a situation he didn’t want to be in, then you didn’t want to do that.

“No, I’m more than happy to go,” he said with a smile. 

“Well if you’re up to it, I’d love to,” you agreed with a grin.

With that, you two found a nice restaurant that was tucked away from everything else, off of main streets and areas, a perfect place for a man not wanting to be seen. The two of you had a great meal, chatting about tennis and he said maybe one day he’d teach you hockey and with an instructor like him, you actually jumped at the chance. Laughter about your performance today went between you two as you shared old stories about your little experience with athleticism and he told you all about his experience and how he almost went pro. 

All in all, it was a wonderful day, and it didn’t stop there. The two of you went on a stroll in the park that was just a couple blocks over. Walking side by side, taking in the beautiful, simple sights of nature, it was so serene. Being around Hayden was so easy and effortless.

You hadn’t really talked to your old friends in a while and Jason and you hadn’t spoken since the breakup. But you didn’t really miss them. You didn’t miss constantly pretending to enjoy being out and about all night. You didn’t miss that when you and Jason broke up, no one really checked on you or cared too much. The first day or two, you got a couple of texts from friends, but after that, it was radio silence. No one asked again how you were doing after that, and for you, it sent a pretty big signal that they weren’t the type of friends you could count on in a bad situation. That made it evident they didn’t need to be in your life. 

Same for Jason. He didn’t talk to you about your issues, he just decided for the both of you that he didn’t want to be in a relationship any more so he just ended it. No talk. No discussion. Just a “this isn’t working out” speech and he was out of your life. He didn’t even respect you enough to talk about it or give you much closure.

Hayden didn’t seem like a man who would do that. A man who would abandon friends in their time of need, or just up and leave without much of an explanation. That’s what you liked about him. He was sweet and reliable and it was refreshing. 

After the walk, he drove you back to your place, where you hugged him tight and thanked him for a wonderful day out. Thank your lucky stars you had a friend like him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Forever Tag:

@essie1876​​​

@magpiegirl80​​​

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​​​

@marvel-imagines-yes-please​​​

@missinstantgratification​​​

@thejemersoninferno​

@rda1989​​​

@munlis​​​

@thefridgeismybestie​​​

@bubblyanarocks3​​​

@igiveupicantthinkofausername​​​

@kaliforniacoastalteens​​​

@feelmyroarrrr​​​​

@kaeling​​​

@friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo​​​

@damalseer​​​

@heyitscam99​​​

@yknott81​​​

@sorryimacrapwriter​​​

@glitterquadricorn​​​

@bittersweetunicorm​​​

@alyssaj23​​​

@sea040561​​​

@princess76179​​​

@thisismysecrethappyplace​​​

@sarahp879​​​

@malfoysqueen14​​​

@ellallheart​​​

@breezy1415​​​

@marvelmayo​​​

@lyniboy​​​

@paintballkid711​​​

@pandacookieowo​​​

@beiroviski​​​

Hayden Christensen:

@coldlilheart​​​

@haydens-moles​​

History Repeats:

@multifandomblog315​​

[porkchop-ao3]

Doofus Rick x Reader

I wasn’t sure whether I should post this, but I decided to go ahead and do it. This is a pretty personal fic that I basically wrote just to make myself feel better lol. It’s a SFW Doofus Rick x reader comfort fic where reader is dealing with an alcoholic parent. I hope someone gets something out of this, even those who don’t fully relate with reader. Thank you for reading x

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I was never a deep sleeper. The slightest thing could wake me, whether it be a conversation in the next room, a light breeze… the smell of burning. I shot up in bed, taking a few deep breaths through my nose, trying to figure out whether I was imagining it. No. Something was definitely burning. I threw the covers off and ran out of the room, checking every room I passed before making my way down stairs. The lights were on downstairs, despite it being past three in the morning. I got to the kitchen, being greeted by chaos. There was a broken egg on the floor, discarded ingredients and cutlery littering the work surfaces, eggs and baked beans bubbling away on the stove, and the source of the smell; toast under the grill. I pulled it out, burning my hand on the grill pan handle, sighing as I saw the blackened bread; practically charcoal at this point. With the fire hazard taken care of, I ran my burn under the cold tap, watching a blister form on the heel of my hand. It was too damn late for this crap. Well, early might be a better analysis, given the ungodly hour my mother was still up at.  

“Oh, you’re up. Want some eggs?” She asked as she entered the kitchen. Her words were slow and merged into each other. She’d started drinking at six on the dot, and it was evident she hadn’t stopped since.

“No thank you.” I told her, not turning to look at the swaying, squinty-eyed mess I knew I’d find. “Your toast’s burnt. I’ll make you some more.”

“Oh no, I only nipped to the bathroom. Thought I’d taken it out from under the grill.” She said, frowning at the smoking toast.

“No. Go and sit down, I’ll finish it.” I said, drying my hand off with a paper towel when the burning subsided.

“No, it’s okay, honey. I’ll do it.” She said, binning the burnt toast.

“Go on, sit down. I can’t sleep anyway, it’ll give me something to do.” I lied, finally turning to her and guiding her out of the room. Eventually, she accepted the offer. I took a deep breath once she was gone, then got to work on cooking some fresh toast. I gave the beans a stir, flipped the eggs, and cleaned up the mess she’d made.

This wasn’t exactly a rare occurrence. My mother tended to only eat at ridiculous hours of the morning, her medication messing with her appetite; only issue is, her drinking problem meant she was drunk most of the times she tried to cook for herself. This wouldn’t be the first, or last, time I’d have to step in to help. It didn’t bother me. Sure, I’d rather be sleeping, but at least I knew she had something in her belly to soak up all the beer. She wasn’t a bad mum. Not at all, she was my best friend. That’s why it hurt so much. I was completely powerless, I’d asked time and time again for her to try and cut down on the drink. Never once had she listened; only turned it all around and made out that I was ‘picking’ on her. She couldn’t seem to see that it was destroying me just as much as it was destroying her.

Once the food had finished cooking, I dished it up for her, bringing it into the living room where she was sat having a cigarette, watching some late night TV roulette show. Thank God she wasn’t a gambler to top it off, she just liked to guess the numbers before they came up. She was never right, of course. I handed her the food, she thanked me and tucked in, patting the seat next to her to ask me to join.

“I should be getting back to bed.” I told her, rubbing my tired eyes. I looked down at my hand, which was starting to hurt again. Sighing heavily, I leaned down to kiss my mother on the cheek. “Goodnight, mum. You going to bed soon?”

“After I’ve finished this.” She nodded.

“Okay. Love you.” I said, turning to leave.

“Love you too.” She called back. I climbed the stairs with a lump in my throat. I’d had a few weeks away from uni, and every time I was home long enough to see how bad things were, it made me feel worse and worse. I climbed back into bed and shed a few tears before going to sleep.

The next day entailed a regular trip to the supermarket. Mum dragged me with her at least three times a week, and every time I didn’t need to ask what we were going for. Occasionally we’d pick up bread, milk, something for lunch. But outside of the large shops we did to buy food for the next week or two, our frequent visits had one purpose. Two large crates of beer; twenty cans in each. Forty in total. It’d last a couple days. Sometimes we’d buy them two days on the trot, 'just in case we can’t come again for a few days’. It became rather embarrassing at times. The checkout people knew us, knew what we always bought, sometimes they’d joke.

“Having a party?” they’d say, amusement on their faces. My mum would just laugh. I’d cringe.

It got to the point where I could tell she was self conscious about it. I’d ask her what we needed to get. She’d stay silent for a while, then list off something I knew we didn’t need. Or we’d be in the supermarket, she’d have a cart full of beer and would pause to think of something else we could get. She acted like we needed extra bits and bobs, but I knew it was because she didn’t want to go through the check out with just beer for the second time that week.

And the sheer amount of money that went into it… I didn’t want to calculate it.

I needed a break from it. I needed to have a night off watching her poison herself, I needed to spend the day with her sober, and remember her that way when I went to bed. So when six o'clock rolled around, I left the house. I texted Rick, asking him if he was busy. If he was, I’d book out a cheap hotel or something for the night, but I couldn’t deny that I craved to see him. He was a little bright light that made everything around him disappear, and Lord knew that’s what I needed. To my relief, he texted back quickly, letting me know that he was just finishing cooking dinner and he’d like for me to join him, if I wanted to. I picked up the pace, walking the short ten minute journey to his house.

He gave me his usual beaming smile when I arrived, holding the door wide open to welcome me into his home. I wiped my feet on his doormat before stepping inside, shrugging my coat off and hanging it on it’s usual peg by the door.

“It’s lovely to see you, (y/n). Th-thank you so much for joining me for dinner, i-it’s nice to have company.” He said, closing the door behind me and straightening out the blue checkered apron he was wearing over his sweater. My mood lifted instantly, and I mirrored his huge smile.

“Thank you for having me. I… I fancied getting out of the house, and I can never say no to a meal cooked by you.” I told him, rubbing my hands together to warm them up. We’d had a chilly few days, even a few flurries of snow, but Rick’s home was toasty warm.

“C-come through, it’s almost done!” He said, leading me through to his kitchen, urging me to take a seat at the little round dining table in the corner. He had a vase full of flowers in the middle of it, as usual, this week it was a combination of lilies and these little yellow flowers that I didn’t know the name of. “We have homemade sweet potato and carrot soup, with some tasty salad on the side and fresh baked bread. I hope that’s okay for you.” He told me as he served up the food.

“That sounds perfect. Thank you.” I smiled, even though he couldn’t see with his back to me. “I love that you make your own soup, I usually only have it out of a tin.” I giggled.

“Well, the potatoes and carrots came out of my garden. I-I-I sometimes have so many, I don’t know what to do with them. Soup’s a good way o-of making use of them.” He explained, bringing over two bowls of soup and placing one down in front of me, before placing the other one on the spot next to me. Next, he carried over a bowl full of dressed salad, and a wooden chopping board with sliced bread on it. It all smelled so delicious. “S-same goes for the salad. It’s all home grown and fresh from the ground!”

“Can’t beat it.” I grinned. “So everything here has had your heart and soul put into it. It’s going to be delicious.”

“Well,” he blushed deep red as he took his seat next to me. “I should admit, th-the bread was bought from the bakery this morning.” He told me sheepishly, and I chuckled.

“I just watched you slice it. That’s good enough for me.” I teased with a wink, and he smiled in amusement. The first mouthful of soup had me humming in appreciation. Rick was the best cook in the world, I was sure of it. Every meal he made was to die for.

“Th-there’s plenty left, feel free to have seconds when you’re done. A-nd I’ll even give you some to take home.” He said. I shook my head and held a hand up to him.

“Oh, don’t let me steal it all. I know you like to save your leftovers for your lunch!”

“Please. Um, I wasn’t kidding when I said I have so much veg I don’t know what to do with it. Y-y-you’d be doing me a favor by taking it off my hands!” He admitted. I laughed, patting the back of his hand.

“Well, in that case I’ll take as much as you can give me.” I grinned. He smiled back, nodding his head eagerly. We fell quiet after that, and in the silence I noticed that he had the radio on. He was playing some Bob Marley quietly in the background, and the entire atmosphere served to drain me of any tension.

I ended up having two bowls full of soup, and Rick seemed impressed by my appetite, pleased that I enjoyed his food so much. I insisted on doing the dishes while he sat down and relaxed. I divided the leftover soup into two airtight tubs, and popped them in the fridge with the leftover salad. The bread was wrapped back up in the paper bag it came in, and placed in the wooden bread bin. Once the kitchen was nice and tidy, I joined Rick in the living room where he was working on a jigsaw puzzle. He was sat cross-legged on the floor, all the pieces spread out around him. I grinned ear to ear at the sight.

“Would you like to join me?” He asked. “Don’t feel obliged. I-I know some people find them a little tedious…”

“I’d love to join you.” I said, taking a seat opposite him. He handed me a cushion to sit on, since the antique Persian rug underneath us offered little padding from the hardwood floor. Rick’s house was full of interesting antiques. Most of which were collected from markets and car boot sales across the country. The rug we were sat on had been in terrible condition when he’d bought it, but he’d spent hours meticulously cleaning and repairing it, reweaving damaged areas by himself. He was extremely resourceful, and his talents seemed to have no end. The rug looked beautiful now.

“This is a ten thousand piece puzzle. I just recently spotted it in a thrift store, s-so let’s hope all the pieces are there!” He said, handing me the box with the picture on. It was a group of wild horses galloping through a dusty, isolated landscape. It was a very beautiful image, and like Rick, I hoped that there weren’t any missing pieces, so we could see it in its entirety. “I like to st-start at the edges and work my way in.” He explained with a smile, sifting through the pile of pieces. He’d already made a start, having joined a few pieces together, revealing what seemed to be the blue sky.

“I might be slower than you. I haven’t done a jigsaw in years.” I warned, and he shook his head.

“It doesn’t matter how long it takes us, it will be nice to work together.”

Rick hummed along with the music still playing quietly. He always paused to give an excited little gasp every time he found the right puzzle piece, and to my surprise I found myself doing the same. I didn’t think I’d have so much fun doing something as simple as a jigsaw puzzle, but I realised that anything with Rick was going to be enjoyable. He had a way of making me enjoy the little things. I had a handful of puzzle pieces, inspecting each one carefully, when I heard Rick give a different kind of gasp. I looked up at him in question, noticing that he was looking at my hand.

“H-how did you do that?” He asked me. I realised he was referring to the nasty burn on my palm. I dropped the puzzle pieces and he reached forward, taking my hand in his.

“The grill pan handle got really hot, and I stupidly grabbed it.” I told him with a sigh.

“Does it hurt?” He asked. I shrugged.

“A little.” I admitted. He rose to his feet, leaving the room for a moment. When he came back, he had a little woven basket in his hands. He set it down, and I peered inside; it was full of first-aid items.

“Y-you should really dress it. Otherwise it could- you could hurt yourself even more.” He told me, and I nodded.

“I was really tired when I did it, it didn’t even occur to me. I’d only just woken up, it was the middle of the night.” I explained, and he gave me a puzzled look.

“I-if it’s alright for me to ask… what were you doing cooking in the middle of the night?” He asked me. I stared at him for a while, unsure of how to answer. He sensed my discomfort, shaking his head as he pulled a bandage out of the basket. “Not to worry. Let’s get this covered up for you.”

“No, it’s okay. It was food for my mum. She… she burned toast and I had to step in.” I said, and a look of understanding passed over his features. He nodded and took my hand in his again, inspecting the wound.

“H-how, um, how is she?” He asked hesitantly. I took a shaky breath.

“Same as usual. I just… I notice it more when I’m not at uni.” I explained. He watched me carefully, his eyes were sad and I had to look away. I felt myself becoming emotional, but I didn’t want to put him in the uncomfortable position of seeing me cry.

“Um, I know it’s not quite my place to say… but I’d like to share something with you, if you don’t mind.” He said, beginning to wrap my hand up in a bandage. He worked so carefully, I barely felt his fingers moving over my hand; he was being overly gentle, trying not to hurt me.

“I don’t mind.” I said, looking back up at his face. He had a look of concentration on his face, a slight frown curving his brow.

“I… I’ve told you about the alternate versions of myself, do you remember?” He asked, and I nodded. Pretty hard to forget that one, I thought. “Well, I didn’t really tell you that, um, I-I-I’m quite different from them. They- ah, it’s difficult for me to explain. They don’t like the things I do and they act very differently, but that’s not what’s important. The thing is, they- a lot of them suffer with, uh, they drink very heavily.” He said, clearing his throat. “Alcoholism is very common among Ricks, and so I have a predisposition to struggle with it myself.”

“Is that why you don’t really drink?” I asked, and he nodded his head, giving me a little smile as he finished dressing my hand. He brought my hand to his face, giving my palm a light kiss. Butterflies erupted in my tummy at this, and I flipped my hand over so I could entwine my fingers with his.

“I used to drink. And f-for a while I was quite- I had a difficult time. Th-that’s when I decided to stop. Since then, I’ve been okay. Y-you know I have the occasional glass of wine with dinner, but that’s all.” He said, and I nodded in understanding. “But, if you noticed; I said I decided to stop.”

I stared at him for a while, trying to figure out the underlying meaning to his words. After a moment, he stood up, urging me to do the same. He guided me over to the sofa and we sat together, he wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

“I don’t want to make you feel hopeless, that’s not my intention. B-but I understand that you put a lot of pressure on yourself, don’t you?” He asked. I thought about this for a while and I had to agree. I nodded and looked up at him. “I want to help you to stop doing that, b-because it’s not worth it. I decided to stop. And that’s the only reason; nobody convinced me.”

“Oh. I see what you’re trying to say.” I sighed, looking down at the ground.

“I’m sorry, beautiful. I-I-I don’t want you to spend your life worrying about something that you can’t change. The truth is, your mother will make her own decisions, and I know that it’s difficult to accept, but… but nothing you do is going to effect that decision.” He said. It was quite blunt, but deep down I knew that he was right. I’d always known. All the hours I’d spent crying with her, begging her to get help, it wasn’t going to do anything. She was a grown woman, she made her own choices. If she wanted to stop, she would. If not, well…

“I see. You’re right, Rick. It’s just very difficult to sit back and watch it happen, you know?” I said, and he nodded, his expression sympathetic.

“I know. I-if it helps, you’re very welcome here. Any time you feel the need to get away.”

“Thank you.” I whispered, turning and leaning into his side. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head, his arm tightening around me.

“Th-there’s nothing wrong with you being there for your mother, or loving her, or even worrying about her. But it isn’t your job to babysit her. Y-you’re her little girl, sh-she should be the one looking out for you. Don’t give yourself a job you didn’t apply for, you see?” He spoke quietly, stroking his hand up and down my arm and resting his cheek against the top of my head. I nodded. “If you want to come over here whenever she starts… um, j-just know I’ll always open my door to you. W- uh, would you like to stay the night?”

“Yes please.” I breathed, relief allowing my shoulder to sag, my muscles to unfurl.

“I lo-” he started, then paused and cleared his throat. “You mean an awful lot to me, (y/n). S-seeing you sad makes me sad, a-a-and I want to do anything I can to help you.”

“Were you about to say-” I looked up at him, a flutter of excitement in my stomach. I paused and shook my head, not wanting to put him under any pressure. “Nevermind.”

“N-no, I uh, I mean… I was.” He said timidly, chewing on his bottom lip with those adorable crooked teeth of his. “I’m sorry.”

“You can say it. I’d like to hear you say it.” I whispered, stroking my hand over his chest. He caught my hand in his, drawing patterns on my palm with his thumb. He looked at me for a long while, his eyes moving back and forth between my own, searching them for something. I didn’t know what. He seemed satisfied with what he saw, it seemed, because his confidence grew.

“I love you.” He told me, and a smile broke out across my face.

“I love you too.” I replied. I craned my neck and kissed his cheek, and he laughed shyly, glancing down at our hands as he flushed.

“D-do you r-really mean that?” He asked me.

“Of course I do. I’ve never been more sure of anything.” I assured him, and he seemed to believe me. He grinned wider than he had all night, then leaned down to press a single kiss to my lips. Rick’s kisses were more often than not very timid. They were brief and soft, and they always left me craving more. I rarely pushed for more, though, preferring to move at his pace. On occasion, I was rewarded for my patience, and Rick would find the confidence to give me more than I could ever hope for. Times like that were what my dreams were made of, and I treasured them, their rarity increasing their value like a precious gem. They were always worth waiting for.