#never ever mentioned how behind she was i praised her so much at every step

[graciebrams]

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[mapileonxputellas]

Beckham II: 2 That Day

Part 2 is here!!!!!

Short one for this part but I think some context is needed before I bring us back to the present day!

Hope you enjoy! Also in this the third place game doesn't exist.

(Part 1 can be found here x)

2nd July 2019, England vs USA, World Cup Semi-final

25th minute – 1 - 1

“This is a real battle out there isn’t it Sue?” Jonathon Pearce broadcasted to the UK, all eyes on the England team trying to defeat the US. Though they had gone behind very early on, an Ellen White leveller had brought them back onto even terms.

“It certainly is, you can see how much this means to all the players out there. None of this England team have ever experienced an occasion like this before but they seem to be carrying that emotion well.”

Out on the field it felt like an out of body experience. Before this the biggest game you’d played in would have to be a substitute appearance in an FA cup final, now you were starting the semi final at a World Cup. You were 19 and felt like the whole world was watching you.

At the start of the tournament you hadn’t been expecting to start but when Jill Scott picked up an injury in the round of 16 you’d stepped into the starting position next to Keira and never looked back. Receiving praise back at home for the level-headed game you played but still managed to bring out that touch of David Beckham in you.

It was a free-kick in the quarter-final that really brought you to the forefront of the nation. A slick ball which soared into the top corner of the net leaving their goalkeeper stranded and left everyone open-mouthed at home. You were never a nobody but now you were here to stay. Your Instagram following doubled and whenever you left the hotel in the past week the camera had never left you. The pressure was on.

“Fucking hell.” You swore coming up to take a corner for England nestled into the corner of the ground flooded with US fans.

“Nepotism trash!” “Daddy not here to hold your hand!” “Can’t even kick a ball!” “Weak!” “Spineless!”

The insults were flying in from every angle, everything was covered in the thirty seconds you had to wait to take the corner, of course your dad was mentioned but so was your appearance in the media. Newly turned 19 and yet it seemed like you were still the five-year-old girl who had her father carry her everywhere. Everyone just presumed you were an innocent little baby who couldn’t put in a tackle, you hated it.

But now was not the time to let that frustration out. Now was game time when nothing else mattered.

Your in-swinging corner found Millie on the edge of the 6-yard box but she couldn’t quite get the connection on it to trouble Naeher, instead giving her an easy catch but you could feel it coming.

The only problem is now there was now a break on. A quick release from the goalkeeper had set Lavelle free, Keira had stayed back but you couldn’t leave her one on one with Morgan in the centre.

You had one second to make a decision.

One second to work out how to stop her. You could try and get further back but you knew you had to stop it at source.

You were known for your pace so you had no trouble getting back to her but Lavelle was known for her trickery and skill.

In your head you made the best decision you could. You followed the rules you played football by and trusted your instinct.

That was where the world as you knew it slowly began to fade away.

“Oh that’s a nasty one from Beckham there and Lavelle seems seriously hurt.”

You thought it was clean, in fact you were sure of it. The contact with the ball was clear sending it flying out of play, you didn’t touch her other than her leg coming into yours as she came over the top of you and yet as she rolled around on the floor it was like the opposite had happened.

Suddenly you were surrounded by players in red, all screaming at you. “What the fuck did you do that for?” “Learn that one from your daddy did you?”

Millie came to stand in front of you, trying to block you from the players as Steph and Lucy surrounded the others at the referee.

“She didn’t touch her.” Millie defended you. “Tell your own player to stop cheating.”

You thought that would be the end of it. Tempers flared, emotions were high and you would get on with the match again. When the referee reached into her pocket you were convinced it was to calm everyone down, a booking usually helped to send a message out but when you saw it was red and it was flashed in your direction it was like time stopped.

“It’s a red card for Beckham, just like her father that name has once again come back to haunt England.” Jonathon commentated. “It’s a long way back for them here.”

You couldn’t believe what was happening. “Go and have a look yourself.” Millie shouted at the ref to overcome the noise in the stadium. “It was a clean tackle, she didn’t touch her.”

“The contact was enough to endanger the opponent. It’s reckless, dangerous and that it is a red card.”

“VAR has got to overturn this.” Sue Smith pointed out. “She’s nowhere near her opponent, it’s not even a yellow card.”

“When you make a challenge like that you bring about a decision from the ref.”

“But that’s what VAR is here for, to show the referee what actually happened. Beckham has arguably been one of the players of the tournament and yet she could be remembered for just this moment.”

It could have been minutes, it must only have been thirty seconds that you stood there. Waiting for some to tell you it had all been a big mistake. Apologies would come and you’d be able to restart the game.

Instead VAR confirmed the red card. You’d been sent off in the most important game you’d ever played in, maybe would ever play in.

This time though it felt like the impact hit you immediately, looking back it was probably the reason you hated showing any emotion now. Your teammates tried to comfort you as the tears started to come but the guilt was already too much, you couldn’t bare to be around anyone right now so pulling your shirt over your face you walked back inside. Every step towards that sideline felt like you were wading through quick sand, the boos from the US side ringing in your ear as you tried to head to the tunnel.

Before the match had begun your brother had FaceTime’d you, at the time you imagined looking up at them at the final whistle, perhaps celebrating with them. Now you couldn’t face looking where you knew they would be sat. The disappointment from yourself was too much to handle right now never mind disappointing your idol, your father.

You can vaguely remember Karen Carney coming out to meet you on the touchline, a kiss being pressed to your head and a little muttering of “keep it together” in your ear. Maybe it was for the best that everyone else was busy trying to reshuffle the pack a few sympathetic faces were thrown your way but you knew football didn’t have time for sentiment. Maybe it was also for the best that Phil didn’t even look your way, your favourite kitman met you to head back into the changing rooms with you but the rest didn’t even bat an eyelid at you.

It was only when you got inside, when you were all alone that the emotion fully came out.

The anger, the pure sadness, the hatred you felt towards yourself. It started that day and it felt then like you’d received a life sentence. A life sentence hating yourself.

……

“Phil, a lot happened out there today. Can you tell us your overriding emotions right now?”

“Oh I’m just proud of every dingle girl out there who competed to the very end. They gave it their all tonight and this result shouldn’t tarnish their pride in themselves or in each other. They stuck in the game when it seemed like other people threw it away.”

“We can’t shy away from Y/N Beckham, what were your thoughts?”

“As football players we know that every tackle we put in can lead to a card and she made that decision. It’s hard because I know the talent is in there but talent can’t be everything.”

“Do you think it should have been a red?”

“Like I said the referee was put in a position where she had to make the decision. We can all wish for different outcomes on the pitch but sometimes we just have to accept them.”

“How is she doing now?”

“As a team we are all very disappointed right and I think it’s the team we should be focusing on right now.”

“Fucking bullshit.” If this was your own bedroom perhaps you would have thrown the remote at the TV, instead you calmly had to just turn it off.

Maybe it wasn’t the best decision to turn on the TV when you got back to the hotel room. England had lost in the end, going 2-1 down to an Alex Morgan winner, they’d given it there everything but it just wasn’t enough.

In the two hours since the game finished you couldn’t count the number of times you’d cried. Firstly on your own, then with some of the girls, then on your own again on the bus and yet not a single word had been said. You knew you’d never be able to say sorry enough times and they knew it was no use telling you anything right now. Though you were crying it was almost as if you were blank inside, you couldn’t take in anything else right now. Your usual spot on the bus next to Keira was left vacant, instead you found a little corner and tried to kid yourself and other that you were asleep when how could you be with all the thoughts swirling in your mind.

Your phone lay switched off on the other side of the room, that interview being the first real insight you’d got into any opinions on the matter. He was right, he might not have said it outright but it was obvious he blamed you. When Phil brought you in for your first senior camp fans were concerned about favouritism but if anything it was the opposite. He had this almost saintly view of your dad and you would never be anything compared to him.

You knew he would be worried, he tried to protect you from everything growing up but now he was powerless. Yet even knowing that you couldn’t bring yourself to switch the phone on, answer any of the messages or calls you’d received before you turned it off on the couch.

It was all too much.

…..

The plan was always for you to spend the 2 weeks you had off after the weekend in the south of France, a quaint villa in the middle of nowhere which you’d had since you were a child. This place was one of the only true places you could just be yourself. You could vividly remember the holidays there once a year being the only time you felt truly free. Your father would spend every second of the day just being a father and your mother could show you her true self, the fun and carefree woman she was away from the pressures of the public eye. This was the place where yourself, Brooklyn and Romeo would spend hours on the beach with a ball and jumpers for goalposts, where you all taught Cruz to ride a bike and Harper to swim. This place meant so much to you.

It felt wrong to tarnish this place with the thoughts you had right now.

That’s why when you touched down in London the following day instead of rushing back to your apartment to pack and meet your family at the airport, you sat, staring at the clock. Time passed, they would have waited for you to arrive and slowly realised you weren’t coming. They would probably be worried and it was for that reason only that you finally turned your phone on. The messages flooded onto your lock screens, dozens of missed calls came through but you ignored them all simply sending a message to your mum claiming you were fine and didn’t want any company right now, only one of those statements being true.

Maybe you should have expected the phone call that immediately came up from your father but they also should have expected your immediate response, decline.

You always thought you were quite strong about the media. You’d grown up with famous parents, you sadly were used to comments about every aspect of yourself from your appearance to the way you spoke. In your time at Chelsea you’d had your fair share of stick from the fans about your place in football but before this you’d proved everyone wrong.

People called you dumb, you passed all your exams and were studying part time for a degree.

People commented on your appearance, your friends and family’s comments opposed that.

United fans taunted you in an FA cup match, you stuck the ball in the top corner and celebrated right in front of them.

All those times you’d known they were wrong and could do something about it. All that media training and yet in that moment you broke the number one rule and opened Twitter.

The results were more horrendous than you ever could have imagined. Not only were there comments about your performance, but they also came for your family, your friends, yourself. The death threats were constant, every other comment on an article link were suggesting this was punishable in unimaginable ways.

Instagram though more concentrated felt worse when you checked a post from your best friend outside of football, comments were left under her post for even just being associated with your name. Taunting her, taunting you and threatening the both of you. Not only had you disappointed everyone but now you were putting those you loved in danger.

Leaving Instagram, blurry eyed and shaking like a leaf, twitter was opened once again. You couldn’t stop and the more articled you read, the more the panic started to set in. People knew where you lived from media pictures, it wouldn’t be long before they came here again. You lived in a gated community but they’d find a way in. You’d never be alone.

Your throat was closing in, it was becoming harder to breath as you panicked more. The only thing you could do was phone the only person who would understand.

“Dad…. dad I need you.”

……

Everyone probably thinks they have the best family but in this moment you knew yours were the best. Thirty minutes on from that phone call you were in your old family living room, curled up in blankets next to your mum and dad, eating homemade chocolate cake and listening to your sister talk you through her week. The biggest drama in which being a girl who took the last apple juice carton and left her with orange juice, which to an eight-year-old felt like the end of the world.

You hadn’t even said another word on that phone call before your dad was ordering you to pack a bag and promised he would be with you in less than ten minutes.

“Why didn’t you go to France?” Your thoughts came out. “We were meant to go.”

“Like we were ever going to leave you here alone,” Your dad chastised you. “I know you well enough to know you might not have needed us in that moment but we were always going to be there when you did.”

“I didn’t mean to do anything, I thought I made the right decision and now people are threatening me. They’re going to find me.”

“They’re not.” Your mother immediately comforted you. “I’ve watched enough football over the years to know tackles like that are made every week and they never get punished. Football is a game, you live for it but it’s a game and people sometimes forget that. You were a big reason England even got to the semi-final and people need to remember that.”

“What did your teammates say?” Brooklyn asked from the next sofa with my other brothers.

“I haven’t spoken to them.”

“What? You flew home with them this morning.”

“I can’t look at them. They’re all sad because of me, everyone knows it, they were always on the back foot because of me and now they’re going home.”

“Millie messaged me this morning.” Brooklyn said. You were of course very close to the Chelsea girls and they’d met your family more times than you could count. You remember they exchanged numbers before you went away on a summer camp one year just in case they needed to contact your family. “She asked me to look after you, they’re not upset.”

“They’ll never admit it, at least not to my face but how can I play with them again after all this.”

“They’re your friends.” Your mum implored and she was right. You were the youngest in the world cup but yourself Leah, Keira and Georgia had formed a little England squad bond. Your sensible and often shy nature balancing out their craziness.

“They’re better off without me. I need to get out of here.”

“Out of where?”

“Out of England, I can’t stay.”

[devoted-tiefling]

a/n: my astarion brain rot has produced a thing. i've finally obsessed over this stupid scene to the point where i regurgitated this. have fun becos i certainly didn't

warning: allusions to spoilers, allusions to a lot of astarion's scenes, spoilers okay there's spoilers, mentions of mistreatment by others, no names or pronouns but this is my blind tiefling ranger oc, still in second person reader insert point of view though LOL

You sat almost stock still, your eyes looking like they were staring thoughtfully into the bonfire but, in reality, you saw only darkness. Your tiefling ears, though, heard everything. They twitched as you took stock of where everyone was.

Your bear familiar laid beside you, his fur brushing against your side, his head pressed to the outside of your thigh. You could hear the ever present grinding of Lae'zel as she sharpened her weapons for the dozenth time. You couldn't hear Shadowheart but she meditated so often that it was common not to know.

Wyll was somewhere near his tent, rifling through his things, preparing for the journey ahead. Gale was looking at himself using magic.

Of course, all of that didn't seem to matter because Astarion, as always, sat silently beside you, his calloused fingers making pleasant sounds against the parchment of the book he was leafing through.

"Astarion," you called out, your own hand still laid atop your bear's sleeping head "Can I ask you for a favor?"

Astarion stopped flicking through the book in his lap to hum, his red eyes darting to you in suspicion. "And what would your favor be, darling?"

You wouldn't have been able to tell, of course, seeing as you couldn't see, but he looked at you with a doubt that could only come from people who've been burned by others too much.

When he had hummed, you turned your head to face him, the jewels hanging from your horns twinkling. Your eyes were unseeing but Astarion always felt slightly unnerved by how it felt like they were staring straight into him.

Your hands lifted into the air, poised as if you were cupping some invisible thing in between them "Can I touch your face?"

Astarion was definitely taken aback. He even flinched a little, eyebrows scrunching, mind reeling.

You were asking to touch his face?

When you didn't hear a response, you smiled almost sadly, a pitying chuckle leaving your lips "Sorry, i-it's fine if it makes you uncomfortable. You don't have to. I know some people react badly when I ask."

"It's just. I'm able to find my way around through the noise and my other senses but I've never been able to put physical features to all of your names and voices." You explained, fingers curling a little, hesitating, hovering as if you weren't sure you could convince him "But out of everyone, I've especially wanted to know the face behind your melodic voice."

That didn't end up clarifying anything for Astarion.

First of all, though he'd been through his share of flattery and praise, he'd never heard his voice described as melodic before.

Second, he'd never told anyone but even he didn't know what he looked like. Astarion had a mirror he'd carry with him, something to peer into with desperation, but he always saw the same thing he'd always see: nothing.

That was, maybe, where his hesitation came from. He didn't know how monstrous he looked as a vampire.

Not hideous, of course. He knew he was handsome because he'd been able to lure many a woman and even a few men to their demises. No, he feared he looked monstrous the same way Cazzador looked monstrous; more than beautiful enough but always the cruelty bled through and revealed itself.

Still, Astarion couldn't find it in himself to deny you. You, who so graciously defended him against all the others in your little group. You, who bled for him every night and still looked at him like he had some humanity left in him. You, who intrigued him at every step.

"Perhaps you can tell me what I look like then." He decided to joke in that same pompous tone he used when he felt a bit too vulnerable "I haven't been able to see myself in hundreds of years."

You frowned at that but your expression immediately turned to one of curiosity "Really?"

"Astarion nodded before moving to place his face into your hands.

Your hands were almost unbearably warm against his almost chilling skin, your claws, as long as his, brushing against the apples of his cheeks.

As soon as you realised his face was in your hands, your face scrunched into an expression of concentration.

First, you brushed your thumbs over his skin, under his eyes, to his cheeks, up to his temples. You looked contemplating, like you really were forming a picture in your mind.

"Well, you have very nice laugh lines." You smiled, gently, sweetly, in a way that made Astarion's undead heart almost beat.

"Preposterous. I'm a vampire, not your homely grandmother. I do not age." He answered you, rolling his eyes, and you could feel the way his expression contorted into an exasperated one underneath your very hands.

You just laughed "I like it. You know, you sound very handsome when you laugh."

Another exasperated noise but you ignored it in favour of brushing your thumbs over his eyebrows "I can tell you furrow your eyebrows often."

"You can tell something like that?" Astarion sounded disbelieving.

You nodded "I lived in Baldur's Gate but we didn't have a home really. We moved from place to place. But I had my own little ragtag family and they would let me practice on their faces; they'd let me touch as they laughed and smiled and grew angry or sad."

Astarion almost wanted to ask you to continue but, from your expression, he felt as if it wasn't the time or place.

"My mother always fretted over everyone; she'd have wrinkles right here because she furrowed her eyebrows so much." You pressed in between Astarion's eyebrows, thumb running over it as if trying to flatten away his worries, before moving back to the corners of his eyes "And whenever my friend smiled, her eyes would upturn right here."

"I bet you look gorgeous smiling, Astarion."

Then, you moved on, moving back down his face, down to his lips. You traced the corners of his mouth, feeling for something that Astarion couldn't understand.

All of it was beyond Astarion's comprehension. He wasn't a stranger to compliments but it felt like yours reached somewhere deep inside him and brought it peace.

Something about it all both tranquilized him and unnerved him all the same.

"You must smirk a lot. I bet you look boyishly handsome when you do. Your voice always sounded so mischievous to me." You huffed, sounding jokingly tired of his antics before running your left thumb over his lips, feeling both the softness and the roughness of it under your fingertip "And you bite your lips a lot. I can feel the scars of it. Though I doubt it would be noticeable to anyone else. Your lips are soft either way. It's a very pretty shape."

Astarion recalled all the countless nights of him biting away cries of pain, cries of agony, the way he'd always bite his lip in frustration and anger. Nobody had ever noticed that, not until you, and it felt like sharing a secret.

Then, as suddenly as your request had come, you pulled away, that gentle touch that soothed a part of Astarion gone as soon as it had been offered.

"Sorry." You looked sheepish, embarrassed "I know a lot of people don't like others touching their face, especially a Tiefling."

Before you could truly pull away though, Astarion pulled your hands back to his face, sandwiching them in between his cold calloused palms and the soft chill of his cheeks.

"It's fine, darling, I don't care." He tried to build his walls back up and, at the same time, let you in "I, for one, always welcome compliments, no matter what the type."

Your thumbs hesitantly, slowly, reached his eyes. You felt his eyelashes flutter close before you were feeling his eyelids, velveteen and twitching. Your thumbs mapped over it, over the shape and the dips of his eyes.

"What color are your eyes?" Your thumbs moved on, again feeling the corners of his eyes, brushing over them in circles as if comforting Astarion somewhat.

"Red, like any vampire's." Astarion answered easily enough, swallowing down a memory of Cazzador's striking red eyes.

"I can tell they're very kind; sharp around the corners but round everywhere else. I bet your stare is very enchanting." You laughed a little in that breathy tinkling way you always did.

Astarion frowned a little, still disbelieving, unable to accept words like 'kind' to describe him.

Then, finally, your hands moved away from his face entirely, your fingers suddenly combing through his hair, feeling it in between your fingers and with your very fingertips "Oh, you have such curly hair!"

"It used to be something else, I think." He tried to recall but quickly grew frustrated when the information didn't come easily "But now it's white."

"Oh, Astarion." You sighed, hands finally coming out of his hair to cup his cheeks "You're so handsome. I'm so glad to finally know what you look like."

Astarion nodded, trying to brush your painfully sincere words off but, instead, they struck him, buried deep inside him.

If you felt a slight bit of wetness in the corners of his eyes, you didn't mention it.

[thatapostateboy]

just for one day

Pairing: Eva 'Rook' Mercar x Davrin, background mention of Solas x F!Lavellan

Word Count: 2957

Synopsis: Rook steals some time away with Davrin

Warnings: Brief description of battle and suggestive sexual comments, written pre-release so may be OOC, does contain some spoilers but they are very mild and only stuff from the first mentions/trailers so read at your own peril

Crossposted: Here on AO3

“Why are we hiking up a mountain fully armed and armoured, but without any backup?” Davrin asked.

Rook glanced around at him from where she was leading the way, “Well that would ruin the whole point of it being a surprise, now wouldn’t it? Besides, we’re not fully without backup.”

She nodded upwards to where Assan was soaring overhead, having followed the pair of them as they headed through the eluvian out of the Lighthouse, and into what looked like remote Orlesian wilderness.

“You must be expecting trouble, else you wouldn’t have insisted on the armour,” he pointed out.

“The whole world’s in trouble,�� she reminded him, “I just figured we could do with blowing off a little steam.”

“If you wanted somewhere more public to blow off some steam, I am sure there are places in the Lighthouse we could-”

“Not like that!” she snorted, pausing in her steps to look at him, “Though, keep that thought in mind, I’m interested where it’s going, and I appreciate you going along with what you thought was an exhibitionist kink. My actual plan was for us to go on a monster hunt.”

“Really?”

“You’re a monster hunter who’s had to fight some stuff well beyond your pay grade recently, and I thought we could go back to basics. You get to show me all your fancy moves, Assan will get some practice in, I get to swoon over how hot you look, and we get to fight something that isn’t world-ending together.”

He chuckled softly then met her eyes. The last mission, well, every mission since they had met, had meant losing more than winning. And even when they won, it had come at a cost. He knew how hard she took every loss, even if she hid it behind sharp wit and unending sarcasm, there was no doubting the toll it took on her. He suspected that this was as much a distraction for her as it was intended for him.

“Okay then, monster hunting it is,” he smiled, receiving one in return, the true unmeasured smile that she reserved specifically for him… and Assan, though he’d never point that out, “What are we hunting?”

“A wyvern.”

“Have you ever faced a wyvern before?” he asked as he continued to follow her up the mountain path.

“No, but how hard can it be to kill one?” she shrugged, throwing a smirk back at him, “Orlesians do it for fun.”

~*~*~

As it would turn out, it was much harder to kill a wyvern than she had originally planned. The beast had been twice the size of what she had been in one of Davrin’s books, which had led to this idea, and its venom had stung like an absolute bitch when she dodged one of its attacks too slowly. The next blow, however, had been blocked expertly by Davrin’s shield, effortlessly holding off the creature’s maw and he’d had to shout at her to stop staring and stab the damn thing.

She’d shot him a grin and a wink and slid under his legs to slice at the wyvern’s throat. It had thrashed and roared in pain, knocking both Warden and Shadow Dragon flying with its flailing body. It began to charge towards Eva, but all it took was a decisive whistle from Davrin and a bolt of feathers and sharp claws came tearing down from the sky, finishing the beast with a deadly strike.

Assan looked up and chirped at Davrin, wide eyes seeking praise for the kill.

“Good boy,” he said, giving him a well-earned scratch behind the ears.

The griffon preened then began to tuck into the tough flesh of the wyvern after Davrin gave him an approving nod.

The Warden wiped the beads of sweat away from his forehead as he looked for his companion, spotting her propped against a rock, not far from where the wyvern had tossed her, staring away from the scene of the battle, into the valley below.

“Eva,” he called to her, “Are you alright?”

She leapt to her feet, spinning to look at him with a wide grin across her face, her hair a complete mess, face and armour splattered with blood. She all but threw herself into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders and pressing a hard kiss to his mouth.

He hummed in surprise, but kissed her back nonetheless, enjoying the warmth of her form against his. She was still a little breathless, the tremble of adrenaline coursing through her body. He felt her starting to tug on the buckles of his armour, loosening it just enough to slip her hands inside, desperate to feel the heat of his skin.

He knew this dance far too well. He had roughly thirty seconds before she used those quick roguish fingers to get him down to his breeches.

“How quickly do you think we can get back to the Lighthouse?” he asked, words barely out of his mouth as she kissed him hungrily again, and again.

She paused, looking up at him, “What happened to indulging my exhibition streak?”

“I have no qualms about getting you naked in a field,” he admitted, before he reached a hand up to rub some grime away from her face, “But we are both covered in blood, and guts, and gods knows what else… So perhaps we park this, and reconvene in the bathhouse?”

She met his eyes, a little scrunch to her nose as she conceded that he was being sensible, “Counteroffer… we go wash off in the lake and you can still have me naked in a field.”

“What lake?”

“The one about five minutes that one down the path,” she hooked a thumb over her shoulder.

He cocked a brow at her, “Is that what you were looking at after the fight?”

“Perhaps.”

He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head to himself, “Counteroffer accepted.”

She grabbed hold of his hand and yanked him towards the path, giving him just enough time to shout at Assan to stay put and enjoy the wyvern carcass.

~*~*~

He had to admit, the lake had been an excellent idea.

The lake itself sat in a beautiful clearing, surrounded by trees on one side, part of the mountainside on the other, giving them complete privacy and serene surroundings… until Rook had gone barelling past him, clothes abandoned in her wake, leaping into the water before loudly yelling that it was Maker fucking blasting bastard cold.

He had chuckled as he watched her splash around, before stripping off himself, her eyes immediately on him as he bared himself to her, wading calmly into the lake to join her.

She latched herself onto him instantly, seeking his natural warmth, and steadier form as he quickly realised that she was not a confident swimmer. Not that he minded of course, it meant being able to hold her against him, feel every inch of her as she clung to him, giddy and breathless as they lazily kissed, the adrenaline from the fight melting away as they enjoyed the peace to simply be together.

It had, of course, still ended with the pair of them twisted together beneath the boughs of a willow tree, laying atop his discarded cloak so that she didn’t get grass in her hair.

“I could get used to this,” she said softly as she rested her against his chest, idly tracing old scars on his skin.

“You once told me you’d rather eat halla shit than willingly camp outside. I think this evening might be a one off,” he pointed out with a chuckle.

“Hey, that was months ago,” she protested with a laugh of her own, “I feel like I’ve grown as a person since then. Besides, my partner is a Dalish monster hunting Grey Warden. I think some camping may come with the territory. I’m not saying that I’m going to be getting vallaslin or reaching for the Joining cup again time soon, but if we live through this, if we actually save the world and get our lives back… I think I could get used to more days like this.”

He glanced down at her, taking in the look in her eyes.

It wasn’t often that she was emotionally vulnerable with him, even less that she spoke of the future. She focused on the present, on the dangers directly in front of them. She wasn’t one to hope for anything past surviving day to day. Even when they had begun their love affair, it had started as something borne from mutual attraction and seeking some company. It was meant to be one night, and then back to being colleagues in the morning. And yet, it had kept happening. They would seek each other out for physical comfort, a distraction, and soon it had become more than that; spending hours talking about their pasts, getting to know the different sides of elven culture from each other, laughing and joking about the most ridiculous things, tucking her in as she fell asleep in the chair in front of his fire.

He would be lying if he said he hadn’t begun to think of a future, what it would look like if they truly made it through this. He would still be a Grey Warden, there would always be monsters to fight, but there wouldn’t always be a reason for Eva to be at his side… not unless she chose to be.

She had a life of her own outside of the Veilguard. She was a Shadow Dragon, she had fought for years against corruption in Tevinter, giving everything she had in the fight for freedom for every slave. And beyond that, she had a home that she some day wished to return to.

And now, here she was, looking at him with an almost pleading expression, seeing if he wanted the same thing; a future that they could decide on together.

He leaned down and kissed her, gently at first before he deepened it, pulling her flush against him.

“Evanura,” he whispered against her mouth, “Ar lath ma.”

~*~*~

The next morning

“Solas, can I ask you something?”

She was drawn into their shared pocket of the Fade, the one he existed in physically that she could see into in her mind’s eye to allow them to communicate.

He stepped before her, and she watched a small, familiar smirk cross his face, as it often did when she said something that entertained him, “You rarely ask permission before bombarding me with questions.”

She rolled her eyes, “Don’t be a smart ass, I just need your help translating something.”

“Very well,” he nodded, a hint of curiosity in his eyes, “I will assist where I am able.”

“It was a phrase I heard, I mean- came across when… reading.”

“Go on.”

“I believe it to be elven, but I have never heard it before, not even in the long tirades where you are chiding me for something.”

He chuckled a little at that, “It may be colloquial to the more modern Dalish elves, but I am sure I can trace it back to its root.”

“It was… ar lath ma.”

And for the first time in more years than he could fathom, the Dread Wolf was struck silent.

He remembers the first time he’d said it to her, unable to control himself as he finally gave in to her for the first time. Not in the Fade, but in physical flesh, the taste of her mouth still lingering on his lips, the warmth of her skin still palpable even as he pulled away, murmuring the words as he did, a confession that he hoped she had never heard.

She had been kind, had not chased after him, had given him the time to say it again when he was ready.

Until that night at the Winter Palace, when he had danced with her under the stars, and she had invited him back to her chambers. He had tried to stay away, but she proved to be his weakness. She had said it herself then, declared so boldly that he wondered if the lingering servants and spies in the hall had heard her. She had kissed him, whispering the words sweetly against his skin as they both gave in to temptation 

It was always in elven, their pet names, the soft ‘ma’lath’ and ‘vhenan’ they would call each other, the declarations of love… until that night in Crestwood. She had said it to him then, a hitch in her breath as she held back tears, telling him that she loved him.

Don’t do this, not now… I love you.

And when he had seen her again, the day she discovered the truth, and she had questioned it any of it had been real. If only she could have known that it was the only real thing he knew anymore.

He snapped back to himself when he realised that Rook was still in front of him, looking at him concerned.

“Da’len…” he said quietly, “You know what it means.”

“This isn’t the time for one of your ‘Eva doesn’t listen to me’ lectures. I have never heard those words before.”

“Evanura,” he sighed her name, “Listen to your instincts. You know what your Warden feels.”

“How did you know that’s where I heard it? Besides, he’s not my-“ she began to protest in her usual fashion until the realisation hit her, “Wait! That’s… it means…?”

“Yes.”

“Holy shit! But that’s…” a look of dawning horror crossed her face, “Oh I’ve fucked up.”

He frowned, “What did you do?”

“He may have said that… and I may have walked away from him.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, “You didn’t ask what it meant?”

“I was embarrassed. I’m starting to learn the language from you, and from him, and Bellara, but I didn’t know that one so I just, kinda… laughed it off.”

“Go find him.”

“But-”

“It is a rare thing, to find someone who holds your heart. He knows you well enough to know you are not cruel… Go to him.”

~*~*~

Across the Lighthouse, sat with a frown on her face, Harding levelled a look at Davrin.

“So what exactly did you say?”

“Well, we were both covered in wyvern blood, and-”

“Yeah, I don’t need to hear the details of how you guys had sex in the woods.”

“How did you know?”

“Neither of you are subtle, and I helped Rook scout the place out,” she admitted, “Get to the part where you confessed your undying love and she ignored you.”

“It was… after,” he said, “We were laying together under this willow tree, watching the sun set over the lake, it was beautiful, and peaceful, it was the most perfect moment. So I kissed her, and then I looked into her eyes and said ar lath ma. And she stared at me for a second before she just smiled, got up and declared that she was going swimming. She jumped right into the lake. It’s not even that she didn’t say it back, or if she told me it was too soon, but she just ignored that I said it.”

Harding raised an eyebrow at him, “You’re an idiot.”

“Wait- why?”

“Just think about it. For a minute. Think about why she might have ignored you saying ar lath ma.”

She watched him intently before he let out a gasp and put his face in his hands, “I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah, you are.”

~*~*~

She burst out of the doorway at the base of one of the towers, heading quickly across the courtyard towards Davrin’s quarters when she saw a familiar figure leaving from the other building, striding purposefully towards her.

“Eva!” he called to her, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. There’s something I need to tell you.”

She reached for him as they met, grasping at his hands like she was scared he was going to disappear in front of her, “I know. I need to talk to you too.”

“Eva, I love-”

“Davrin, ar lath-”

“You.”

“Ma.”

They looked at each other with giddy smiles, still clutching to each other’s hands.

“Wait… you know what that means?” he asked.

“I didn’t, until about three minutes ago,” she admitted.

“How did you… Oh gods, you asked Solas, didn’t you?”

She chewed her lip, “Maybe.”

“Well, the Dread Wolf knows far too much about my love life as it is already. What’s one more thing?”

She giggled, reaching up to cup his cheek, “Do you mean it? What you said, did you really mean it?”

“Of course. I love you, Eva, ma lath, ma vhenan, and whatever the future brings, I want to be at your side.”

“I love you too. You make me want something after this, a life together, something to fight for.”

“Can you two just suck face already?” Taash called from one of the nearby balconies where they turned to realise that all of the other members of the Veilguard had gathered outside of their prospective rooms to see this confession come to fruition.

“Well, I’d hate to disappoint our audience,” Rook grinned, leaning up and kissing him.

He wrapped his arms tight around her, dipping her back a little like he had seen described in those terrible romance novels Varric wrote, earning shouts and applause from their friends.

Whatever happened, whatever tragedies they would face tomorrow or the day after, they were both willing to fight for something more, a life beyond, and even if it would never come to pass, they had today, this moment, and nothing, no ancient elven god or even his Calling, would take that from them.

[mystargirl-interlude]

𝑴𝑼𝑹𝑫𝑬𝑹 𝑶𝑵 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑫𝑨𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑭𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑹

𝑷𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑬 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺 𝑩𝑬𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑼𝑬

I also updated the playlist

Series masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Victory tour of the 66th hunger games

Now 14, almost 15 Persephone sits on the train on the way to district one for the start of her victory tour.

The tension ever since she got back has been strong with everyone, she's been more comfortable with mags but other than that it's been off. Not like she was doing anything, in fact she would consider herself thriving, god knows what the others thought though.

Walking out of the room part of the train she sees finnick sitting on one the couches in the main area staring at the scenery before them

"Hey fish sticks" Persephone says breaking him out of his trance by sitting next to him

Jumping slightly he looks over at who was sitting next to him before relaxing again

"Fish sticks?"

He replied

"Yeah? I felt like getting creative, I kinda was kinda gagged by my own thoughts" the newly victor replies

"Gagged?" Finnick asks once again

"God do you only ask questions" Persephone replies slightly annoyed

Giving her an annoyed look he returns his gaze back to the window in front of them

With a moment of silence he breaks it by asking her another question

"How did you do it" he exhales  before starting again "I mean I saw you in training, you never once hit a target, your score was a three, I mean the way you killed them wasn't out of defense, it looked like you have been doing this your whole life an- and the way you acted before.." finnick says with a worried tone not so much scared as she thought it was gonna be

"Jesus I know I blonde but I'm not a fucking idiot"

Persephone replies

"It was easier than I thought, like I don't know? My grandma would train me every day until the day she died because she knew there was no escaping the reaping, and given the fact that my family never cared enough for my survival someone had to" she finishes with no self pity in her tone

Their conversation was cut short by the screeching of the trains breaks

"Alright, Persephone this is it! Make sure to keep a smile on your face and chin up shoulders back!" Anya tells her before dragging her up from her seat taking her to the train doors

"Chin up!" Anya tells her once again putting her fingers under her chin pushing it up

Anya was the only one who treated Persephone no different regardless of the way she acted, scolding her in motherly ways, treating her like a daughter. Even though she said she felt comfortable around mags it's probably because the woman didn't even speak

Doors opening shes met with citizens of district one screaming her name trying to push their way through the peacekeepers

Making her way to the Justice building she looks out the window and sees everyone from one sitting down waiting for her to come out

Anya hands her a stack of flash cards which she guesses is her script.

Scanning over it she looks back up at Anya and finnick

"Im suppose to praise the tributes?" She says almost like she didn't believe what she just read

"Yep!" Her and finnick say at the same time but in very different tones

"I literally gutted both of them from the inside out." Persephone says "not to mention they were really fucking annoying"

"Oh- well- um?" Anya stutters out but is cut off by finnick

"It's time to go out now, follow the cards." He says sternly

Persephone gives a sarcastic smile before walking out to the stage

Met by loud clapping and some cheers here and there she steps up to the microphone.

She begins the speech but is interrupted by yelling

"That slut isn't sorry for anything! She doesn't care she killed son!" Someone says who she assumes is the family of one of the tributes

Followed by other people shouting derogatory comments at her. Jaw clenching she drops the cards from her hand

"One job, she has one job" Anya says behind the doors to herself

"What do you want me to say? I'm sorry for killing your annoying fucking children? Maybe don't be so cocky, I mean-" she cuts herself off by a laugh

"He got killed by a child! I gutted that bitch from the inside out-" she's quickly stopped by finnick and Anya running through the doors grabbing Persephone and dragging her into the room

"Are you out of your mind?!" Finnick yells at her

"Okay first of all don't yell at me, and second of all what was I supposed to do?" The girl says

Sighing finnick rubs his fingers in his temples getting a headache by the continued yelling from the next room over.

"I'm sorry- just please stick to the cards" he says in a defeated tone giving her a pleading look

The rest of the tour went by in a blur and now she finds herself in a dress walking up to the steps of the capitol party that was thrown for her. Her outfit consisted of a satin cream colored flowy dress with designs of dainty flowers colored with light pinks and sea greens along with sunset oranges, she wore her hair blown out with a lace bow in it and dark brown heeled boots. Not much for a capitol party but she loved it

(it's on my Pinterest board called birds of a feather the user is coachella_woodstockinmymind)

Finnick was to the right of her and Anya to the left

"Alright, remember be respectful, smile, interact and most importantly-"

"Chin up shoulders back- yeah yeah I know" Persephone cuts off her escort in a monotone voice

Finnick leaves her side quickly after finding one of the other victors from past games leaving her to fend for herself

Asshole

Surprisingly Persephone quickly finds her way around the area even finding it in her to converse with some of the others. She actually found herself having fun for the first time in a while but that ended shortly when a man started talking to her. Now don't get her wrong she loves herself a good man but definitely not the one that's in front of her

She's staring at her glass of water as the man talks her ear off about god knows what, it's very clear he's from the capitol with makes him ten times more insufferable than he already was. Her attention is quickly taken by the sounds of loud laughter coming a few feet away from her, turning her head she sees finnick with another woman who's stroking his arm rather seductively as he gives her his "charming smile" tensing at the sight she feels her heart speed up but not in a good way. She can't figure out why though.

Looking back at the man in front of her to take her mind off of what she just saw she lazily engages in the conversation replying to him every now and then.

Taking a gulp of her water as her throat was rather dry from her nerves she's hit with a wave of dizziness, all the colors start merging together making a sea of neons, her mind goes fuzzy as she tries to understand what the man is trying to say.

He has a sickening smile on his face as he grabs her arm leading her into the building and finding his way into what she assumes is his room.

She doesn't know how she got here standing at the top

of the cement staircase looking down at everyone dance and laugh and talk.

Her once gorgeous cream colored dress now dyed in a crimson red, her arms, face and hands are sticky with wet and dry blood, her soft blonde hair now a mixture of red a blonde stick to the sides of her face.

Making her way down the staircase heels clicking with every step sometimes leaving a bloody shoe print behind.

She doesn't feel dizzy anymore, her muscles feel tingly, she has unnatural feel of happiness. No one has yet to notice her. She doesn't know where finnick or Anya are and she doesn't care.

A new song on the speakers starts playing, feeling the music run through her eardrums, flow through her body.

Making her way to the colored floor she lets the music run through her.

With every twirl her dress flows around her, every move of her arms she can't find it in her to worry about anything around her, not the body that lies in one of the rooms of the capital, not the stares she's now getting, nothing.

"Persephone!" She can hear someone call her name but she doesn't bother to look at who's calling her, her body being controlled by the music flowing through her ears, flowing through her head.

"PERSEPHONE" she feels a familiar hand grab her arm turning her towards them.

Looking up she sees the wide worried eyes of finnick.

She can see his mouth moving at a rapid pace but all she can do is smile.

She feels the embrace of his body as he wraps his arms around her in a protective manner and then she feels the hand of Anya on her back rushing her to the exit.

And then everything went dark.

𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑲 𝑩𝑼𝑻 𝑱𝑼𝑺𝑻 𝑨 𝑮𝑨𝑴𝑬 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑻 𝑰

Not long after the incident at her victory tour Persephone  found the comfort in different substances wether it was pills, powder, liquids that she injected into her veins, it didn't matter, she was happy.

She didn't look like a drug addict on the outside. That's one thing she made sure of, if there was going to be something she cared about it was going to be the way she looked.

(For the sake of the story we are going to pretend glimmer was from district four)

Years passed and she's laid off the drugs, not completely but she wasn't doing them hardcore like she was. She stopped talking to finnick, or was it the other way around? Persephone doesn't even remember, she still finds herself missing his touch, missing his words and the way he spoke to her but if he didn't care neither did she. But she did.

Making her way to the Justice building for the reaping of the 74th games she had to mentor for this year.

Arriving at the building a little over an hour than when everyone else was supposed to be there, she sits on the floor of the stage lighting a cigarette she found loose in the depths of her purse. The only thing she has been doing these past years was writing. Wether it was songs or poems she was never seen without her notebook in her hand.

Thirty minutes go by and she soon gets bored especially after her cigarette went out, closing her notebook she begins digging in the pockets of her purse hoping to find a loose pill to get her through the reaping.

After digging for a minute she feels a little circular loose pill in one of the pockets. Mystery pills at its finest. Placing it on her notebook she crushes it with the back of one of her rings and going in to snort it

"What are you doing." A voice behind her asks the rhetorical question

Whipping her head around she sees finnick standing in the doorway with his arms crossed giving her a look as if he's waiting for her to answer him

"Um- praying?" She replies questioning her own sanity

Wiping the residue off of her nose she stands up walking over to him

"What about you fish sticks, why are you here so early" Persephone asks trying to change the topic

"How long"

"What?"

"How long have you been putting that shit in your body" he asks gesturing his hand to where she was sitting

"Hmmmm" she hums tapping her finger on her chin pretending to think, pursing her lips when she can't think of anything to say back

The conversation is cut short by Anya entering the room

"Hello lovely's!" She says oblivious to whatever is going on

"If you don't mind I'm going to steal Persephone from you" Anya says looking at finnick

"Nope not at all." He replies glaring at her as he walks away

As soon as Anya and Persephone enter another room she embraces the young girl in a secure hug. Which tells her that she knew what happened

"What did I do wrong, why did he stop talking to me?" The young victor says just above a whisper

While Persephone can seem like a cold hearted bitch, she gets attached quickly.

She fell in love with every guy she ever dated, wether they were smart, dumb, nice, cruel, it didn't matter.

It might have been because the only person who cared about her when she was younger was her grandmother but now she's dead so..

"The best ones lost their mind" Persephone quietly says

"So I'm not gonna change, I'll stay the same" she finishes looking up at Anya

Anya looks at her with soft eyes before embracing her again resting her head on Persephone's head

"If could take your pain and suffering away I would. But that's not how the world works unfortunately, I think the best thing you could do is talk to him, not talk about the problems but talk to him about anything try to get comfortable" Anya mutters into the girls head.

The reaping began and her, finnick and Anya walked out onto the stage.

She felt her body calm as her nerves began to settle

"Hello, hello! Happy hunger games and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

Just like every other year she tunes out the historical movie on the games and begun looking around at everyone that was sitting before her.

Making eye contact with a younger girl with blonde wavy hair, shorter than persephones.

The girl gives Persephone a smile before returning her attention back to the screen

Furrowing her brows she looks over at finnick to see him already looking at her. Giving him a smile, he returns it before quickly looking away.

Persephone zones out until Anya starts getting ready to name the tributes.

"Our female tribute representing district four is.." she says as she digs her hand through the large bowl full with names

"Glimmer Belcourt!" The girl who Persephone realized was the girl she made eye contact with walks up to the stage

"And now on the the male tribute...."

"Cameron Dyer!" A curly haired lanky boy walks onto the stage with a terrified look on his face as his family yells for him in the background

"Ladies and gentlemen these are your 74th hunger games district four tributes! You may shake hands."

Finnick, now standing next to her he gives her a knowing look after seeing the boy who just got reaped

"Huh, dyer, kinda an ironic name" Persephone mutters to herself not meaning for finnick to hear but she realized he did when he stifles a laugh making her smile to herself.

Making their way to the capital she can't tell if she hates glimmer or not. The boy on the other hand is a lost cause he hasn't spoken a word and his fists have been clenched, she can tell he isn't pulling a Persephone levito because she obviously invented it therefore she knows who's playing it.

Glimmer talks the mentors ears off and Persephone learned to tolerate her even coming as far to be good acquaintances but not changing the fact that she wants to punch her in the face. Persephone, glimmer and finnick all make conversation throughout the train ride, not so much Persephone and finnick but at least they are talking more and she would take that over not talking at all.

Every now and then she would try to get Cameron to talk to them but he wouldn't, he would just shake his head which made her roll her eyes at the boy.

Near the end of the train ride Persephone and Anya are gossiping about the recent dramas in the capitol before they arrive at the large building.

Anya gives them the same instructions as she gave Persephone years ago. Chin up, shoulders back.

Stepping outside they are all met by the flashing on lights and names being called left and right.

Glimmer is waving and smiling, playing the game perfectly and Cameron on the other hand..

The parade went by in a blur, a few sleeping pills later Persephone found herself knocked out cold on the couch of the capitol apartment where the mentors stay.

After having a talk with Anya about the parade finnick walks into the apartment that him and Persephone shared, finding her dead asleep on the couch with her arm and leg hanging off the couch.

Walking up to her he finds a bottle of prescription pills and a glass of what he assumes to be alcohol.

Rubbing his hands on his face sighing he looks at her taking in all her face features under the moonlight.

All he wants to know is why. Why she turned to drugs and why can't he bring himself to give into her pleads for him to stop ignoring her.

Picking her up bridal style, he takes her to her room placing her on the bed and takes her shoes off before laying the blanket on top of her and walking out closing the door behind him.

Authors note: I have never been so consistent with a book ever omfg anyway I'm gonna update the playlist so it's not just gonna be lana and so it can fit the ideas I have for future chapters!

© 2023 Mystargirl-interlude

[pink-ttes]

rank the members from least talented to most talented pls <3

OKAY SO. HERE WE GO.

001. CHARMEINE : I feel like we’re not surprised, tbh! She’s the holy grail of the group. She’s main dancer material, arguably the second best in the group behind Tana. With her strong, consistent vocals and impressive range she earned her spot as the groups beloved main vocalist, often being labeled as the best vocalist of the 4th gen. Although nobody in pinkalicious is particularly great at rapping, she proves herself to be a decent rapper, coming in at third best with her often infrequent brief catchy verses and sassy tone that fans have fallen for. She also can write a mean song, her lyricism only getting better with time as she watches the groups eldest London’s writing process and mentoring. Her stage presence is another thing to never be messed with! She’s easily the most consistent performer in the group and loves being onstage and you can tell as she’s constantly praised for her skills. Frequently called the performer of her generation. Charmeine proves everyday that she’s a jack of all trades.

002. LONDON : Many people would be surprised to see her outdoing Tana on this list, however, London excels in all areas except dance, stage presence, and rap compared to Tana. That seems like a lot but lmao let me explain! London is a wizard with the pen, not to mention her ear for beats. She’s written almost every song in The Pinkettes’ discography (yes, even the songs she wasn’t credited for.) Next, she’s the second best vocalist in the group, having exceptionally stable vocals and a very pretty vocal tone that could be described as light, airy, slightly honeyed, surprisingly versatile, and melodic. Noooww this is where things take a small turn. Her stage presence is really not that bad but it’s definitely not the best. Her facials aren’t that versatile and honestly consist of similar variations of the same expression—no matter the concept. Her dance is also not bad, just, once again, not the best! She’s a very soft dancer which makes it look like she’s not dancing as hard as the other girls so it can seem as though she’s underdancing. She princessify’s every choreography ever. Rap is obviously not her strong suit, either. But then again, none of the girls are great rappers but they eat on a song. London can write a good verse but she cannot execute it the same way, which is why she never gives herself a rap verse in any song ever. Though she has her shortcomings, she made her way at number two because she’s pretty much the backbone of the group.

003. TANA : Coming in at number three, everyone’s favorite main dancer Tana! She’s an amazing dancer and has been dancing her entire life. She’s often praised for her sharp moves, attention to detail, control, and versatility by well-respected industry professionals. She’s frequently labeled as the best dancer of her generation and her freestyles stun every time. Going hand in hand with her dance, her stage presence is exceptional. She’s consistent and very expressive onstage, knowing how to match with any concept. Her rap is also pretty good, hence her main rapper title. She has nice flow and execution. Her most lacking area would be her vocals. She’s not the most stable but she’s decent. However, she has a vocal tone whose reception is very divided. Some people say she sounds like you can hear her struggle whenever she steps to a mic, others say that it’s her style.

004. MIKYUNG : Don’t get it wrong, Mikyung isn’t this low because she’s purely untalented. She’s arguably the second best dancer of the group, her remarkable smoothness, outstanding musicality, and precise movements never go unnoticed. Her stage presence is neck and neck with Tana’s, they just differ in vibes. Mikyung offers an effortless, kind of subtle, charisma that captivates the audience. Her vocals are good just not in comparison to the top two. She has a surprising range and a well-perceived tone that’s distinct and can be described as nasally but sweet tone. The second best rapper in the group, she has a charming yet fun flow/style that makes all of her verses addictive.

005. NELLY : No surprises to be frank. She’s a mediocre dancer and not very smooth nor versatile—which is they a lot of songs/choreo from the core four were swiped (because she couldn’t keep up.) She has a hard time with musicality and was caught a beat behind the other members on multiple occasions. Vocals are also mediocre, she’s quite listenable in the studio on the actual track but she’s not all that stable. Rap…never let her spit on the mic. London learned her lesson giving her a couple of verses a few eras back when the poor girl got slandered by the masses dhsjdbs. Her best area would be her stage presence which was definitely a work in progress. For a lot of her career she was pretty much like a deer in headlights onstage until recent years when we saw some good improvement. Now she can pull out some charisma and allure in her facial expression which are starting to receive praise.

[amazildoessomethingstupid]

Chapter 83: Small Fry

Oh you were a sneaky bitch for this one Taeshi.  Oh you slippery toad you dirty for this one, hiding one of the most pivotal character moments, and heartfelt scenes in this comic, tucked away in what is on the surface an average run-of-the-mill forgettable nothing chapters, and you hid it pretty well!

Small Fry’s basic premise is that it’s Paulo’s birthday and ya boi is movin’ AND shakin’. He is hyped as hell as he is going to throw his hat in the job market and find what sticks.  The result of which is revealed to us and the rest of the characters by way of…

WAIT HOLY SHIT… TESS?!  WHAT ARE YOU DOIN’ HERE?

Holy hell girl, where ya been?! YO THE OG GOLDEN GIRL IS BACK BABY! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod YES! OH MAN I’VE MISSED YOU SO MUCH, LOOK GUYS IT’S TESS! WE FINALLY GET TO TALK ABOUT TESS! OH WE GOTTA TALK ABOUT HER RIGHT N-

N-next chapter! Uhhh Next chapter we will talk about Tess of course! I-I would never ever want to draw attention away from bestest girl in the world Rachel! Especially not to talk about Tess of all characters, no-no-no never! I would not dream of putting a whole 2 paragraph aside about how amazing Tess was in this chapter segment specifically reserved for Rachel ha-ha ha… But for real Tess’ appearance isn’t all that important than as she’s mostly pushed aside and used for setting up Paulo’s new job working in fast food which to be fair…

Is fucking great.  God I love this chapter, I love these jokes, and I love the Paulo show so much.  The scenario in general is just perfectly Paulo.  He’s got a simple entry-level job doing dirty work, and while it is hard and stressful he’s happy, he’s proud and making the most of it.  It’s endearing as hell, and highlights one of the key aspects of his character.  But where does Rachel factor in to this?  Well, it turns out Paulo isn’t just set on improving his employment status but also his driving status.  And it just so happens that the only person willing and able to help him out in this endeavor is…

Rachel! Yes, finally indeed we get to gush about the best girl Rachel.  She’s come a long way from her roots as one of the more annoying and one-note characters in BCB.  Similar to Stacy she was initially pigeon-holed into being a stereotypically bitchy popular cheerleader in Volume 1, and it didn’t help her case when all she ever seemed to be used for was bashing on the OG Golden Girl: Tess. Even after discovering that there was good reason for her to be bitchy about Tess, it was hard to get behind Rachel as a character even though Volume 2 tried hard to sell her as a big side-character it was hard to shake that stigma; not helping matters was her involvement in one of the most controversial chapters in Back and Forth which while set up her crush on Paulo that follows through here, really only solidified the notion that she was a dumb silly slut character with a bit of emotional baggage.  It wasn’t until Volume 3 rolled around that we got our first real sympathetic moment with her in Pillow Talk where she became more of a fleshed out and well-rounded character.

Showing that underneath that ditzy slutty stupid veneer was a great big heart of gold, and actually getting to see the pain Tess caused helped pull sympathy towards this character that a lot of people (myself included) overlooked. She revealed herself to be a character that exuded a lot of heart, and in her own way… maturity. And for every bit of praise I lump onto the Paulo Show, every single part of it is owed to the handling of this one fantastic character.  I didn’t mention it, but the one shining moment in Volume 4 that I honestly can not knock too hard on was Chapter 77 Study Buddy, which set the stage for Rachel to come in as Paulo’s new girlfriend.  In a time in the comic where we weren’t sure what was going to happen, with Lucy being lost and Paulo being a wreck, Rachel stepped in and seamlessly put the comic on her back by being the emotional rock this comic needed.  When everything was falling apart, and all hope was lost, she was the one person to look at these sad sap cats and say,

It'll be okay. And a cynical part of me at the time couldn’t enjoy it for a reason I’ve talked about before in Witch Hunt in reference to Jordan… The more a character is put into the foreground, the more likely it is that they’re going to get hurt.  Rachel could’ve lived happily as a side-character legend among the greats like McCain, and Tess, but what she was doing in getting a relationship with Paulo was putting herself directly in the crosshairs of drama to come in and destroy her, to join the line of bodies that thought they could fix him. Tess tried it and she failed despite being one of the strongest characters in the comic, Jasmine tried but she was too weak of a character and couldn’t elevate herself beyond being a narrative cockwarmer to substitute for Tess.  And while Rachel had all that strong character development, sympathy and relatability, who was to say that the same fate wouldn’t befall her too? It almost seemed inevitable that her relationship with Paulo would end badly, and that she was going to be burned as well so why should we put any emotional investment into this relationship? Why would we ever think that this time it would be different? Well… Because Rachel isn’t like Jasmine, and I’d be damned if I said she was like Tess. The problem with Tess was that she loved Paulo, but she wanted him to change who he was and grow up when he wasn’t ready for that.  Paulo loved Jasmine, but despite him trying to be understanding, changing his behavior, and trying his hardest to be good enough, she just wasn’t ready for the serious relationship she thought she wanted.  Rachel on the other hand… Never asked him to change.  She accepted and loved him for who he was, she knew exactly what he needed.  He didn’t need someone to tell him to change his ways, he didn’t need to bend over backwards to please the person he loved.  All he needed was someone to be there for him, an emotional rock to support him and remind him that he’s worth it.  But what set her apart from all those that came before her. More than her fantastic appearance in Study Buddy… was this scene. Where Rachel teaches Paulo to drive at a drive-in theater, and reality comes bearing down.

In a moment of vulnerability, the weight of Paulo’s feelings come down on him as he recognizes how unfair his relationship with Rachel is.  He realizes that he still loves Lucy and dating Rachel even unofficially is only going to end in pain.  But the thing is…

Rachel understands.  She understood that long before Paulo did.  But it didn’t matter.  She didn’t even mean for their relationship to get serious, she just wanted to help him.  This one moment is what set her apart from every other character in this comic.  She knew she was diving on top of a ticking time bomb.  She knew this relationship wasn’t going to last.  But she didn’t care.  All she ever wanted to do was be there for Paulo.  To help him through the worst period of his life, and show him that he was good enough just the way he was.  She served as a beacon of stability when emotions were high, and everything seemed so chaotic.  This one character rode the ship, and if it wasn’t for her influence in jumping on the grenade and being in a relationship with Paulo… There was no way these chapters would be half as good as they are.  She steered him right, by letting him steer on his own.  She helped rebuild his confidence, after Lucy’s suicide attempt shattered him. If it wasn’t for Rachel, Paulo would’ve been lost.  Probably falling into the extreme of leaning more into his faux playboy persona to fuck the pain away, or resigning to the depression and becoming… well… Mike.  But this one character.  This one moment.  This one relationship.  Saved us all.  Take Heart made me cheer again for BCB.  Local Area made me laugh with BCB… But Small Fry… Rachel… made me care again.  In her, I too felt that it was okay.  That while it may not be safe, I was willing to strap back in. Ignore the bomb under my seat.  And just… Enjoy the ride.

10/10

Thank you for your service, Slut Pup.

[neowinestainedress]

rose-colored glasses (all distorted) | lee jeno

title: rose-colored glasses (all distorted)

pairing: lee jeno x fem!oc/reader (no name used, written in third person) | mentioned: oc's brother!jaemin, lee haechan, park jisung

genre: bet!au, brother’s best friend, angst, smut, fluff (if you squint) | requested

summary: a long-lasting crush for her brother’s best friend, a bet, obsession, devotion and jealousy; all things that cannot lead to anything good. But the world that Jeno showed her was perfect and she couldn’t see what it really hid behind the rose-colored glasses. It was all distorted.

warnings: angst, manipulation, gaslighting, fights, jealousy, smut, fingering, oral sex (m and f), (semi) public sex (on Ferris wheel), pussyjob (i guess??), degradation, praise, dirty talk, unprotected sex, jealous sex, make-up sex, inexperienced!oc, feeling like tagging this dubcon bc of the heavy power imbalances (jeno is mean at the start and then he’s slightly possessive and she would do anything to have him in any way, do what you need to do with this information) but there’s always consent

words: 18.294k

playlist: who are you ; 5h | like that ; bea miller | lose you to love me ; selena gomez | you all over me ; taylor swift | case closed ; little mix | can't help falling in love with you (dark) ; tommee profitt | monster ; exo

a/n: i promise it’s a bet!au but with a darker twist. I enjoyed writing this even if it’s quite out of my comfort zone (please don’t make me write mean men anymore I need them to be himbo male wives) but as I said I’m happy with it so I hope the anon that requested it (and all of you) will like it anyway. This story has no intentions of romanticizing this kind of behaviour, if you realize you’re in a manipulative/toxic relationship please ask for help.

taglist: @wooyoung4eva @jenoxygen @sunshinedhyuck @kundann @jaeymark

Having a crush on her brother’s best friends was one of the dumbest things she could ever do. Especially when they had always been in two different leagues. 

Jeno had always been the popular kid at school, after a few years of being a loser in middle school, he picked in high school and college. He was everybody’s first love, tall, charming, the captain of the basketball team, and he even had good grades. 

She, on the other hand, was the opposite. Not a loser like the typical image of the silly girl with pigtails and round, big glasses who spent her days reading books. But still not popular enough to be at his level. She was reserved, she preferred minding her business and spending time with her few friends instead of living in the chaos of frat parties, or disco nights with people she barely knew. She was Jaemin’s sister but she couldn’t be any more different than him. Probably being his sister was the thing that worsened everything. Everybody expected her to be as cool as her brother, funny, cute and charming at the same time, but most importantly, not annoying. 

And yet, all those differences didn’t stop her from falling for Jeno. It was rather impossible when he was always at their place. They grew up together. Sure, she was always a step behind, watching from the side, laughing at his jokes when nobody else did, reminding his birthday to Jaemin that never remembered, admiring him and cheering him silently for every accomplishment he made. But she was there, every day since she was ten falling for him deeper. By now she came to the conclusion it wasn’t just a stupid crush that was going to pass. Too many years had passed by and she still looked at him in the same, delusional, way. Even if Jeno never paid her much attention, no matter how hard she tried.

But it wasn’t like Jeno couldn’t see it. He knew she had a thing for him, he could see how she squirmed every time their bodies touched casually, or how big her lips curled when he greeted her and most importantly… rumors ran. 

He knew. But there was something funny in keeping her on the edge, seeing that, somehow, the harsher he treated her, the more she came back, wagging her tail every time he acted just a little bit nicer than usual. 

And his group of friends knew too, always joking about it when they all stayed at Jaemin’s place and he left for a few minutes, giving them the opportunity to talk about his sister that always found a way to go downstairs just to say hello. So they talked about her a lot, chuckling, joking, saying that overall she wasn’t that bad and maybe he could’ve given it a try. But all of them were a little bit too competitive. Jeno was sure that if he only gave her a bit more she would’ve fallen to her knees, Haechan believing that she was too proud and innocent to actually risk it for him, while Jisung listened, laughing, but not believing she would’ve given up so easily. 

But Jeno was firm in his belief. He knew she was already his. But it was risky; she wasn’t just anybody, she was his best friend’s sister, and even if Jaemin never showed to care much about her, he knew it was still a dangerous game to play. 

But Jeno was a player, and he loved risky games. 

“What are you doing here?” She exclaimed when, turning around, she saw Jeno lean against her bedroom doorframe. “Jaemin’s not home.” 

“I know,” he replied, shrugging and making his way in. “I wasn’t looking for Jaemin.” 

She furrowed, trying not to panic over the fact he had never been so close to her with nobody else around. “Our parents aren’t home.” 

He snickered, “I’m not looking for them, either.” 

“Then who are you looking for?” Her voice betrayed her, shaking a bit, but she shrugged it off with an awkward chuckle.

“Damn, you are dumb, aren’t you?” 

“What?” 

“I’m looking for you,” he said, sitting on her bed, and looking around. “Jesus, you do love pink,” he exclaimed, almost with a hint of disgust in his voice. 

“Can you tell me what are you doing in my room?” She asked, crossing her arms on her chest and standing in front of him, having no idea where she found the courage, and deciding to let the comment about her room fall. 

“I’m throwing a party this weekend,” he explained, placing his hands behind him on the mattress, stretching his legs out and tilting his head to the side, “wanted to know if you were coming.” 

She laughed awkwardly, shaking her head. “You are inviting me?” 

“Yeah, why not?” 

“You hated when my mom forced you to bring me along.” 

“Yeah, because you were a loser back then and annoyed the fuck out of me.” 

She gasped, staring at him in disbelief. “This is how you are inviting me to a party?” 

“I said ‘were’, I think we can get along now,” he said, standing up, and leaning close to her. “Or am I wrong?” He whispered while his hand placed on her waist, making her move back in surprise, but he stopped her, gripping tighter. 

She gulped, lifting her head, and stared at him. “You barely talk to me…” 

Jeno smirked, caressing her cheek and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, maybe I want things to change.” 

She swallowed, trying to keep her eyes on his and not on his lips, fighting the urge to lean in and kiss him. This meant nothing. Jeno never looked at her like that. So why would he start doing it now? 

“Do you want things to change between us?” He asked, almost cooing, moving his thumb on her lips, grazing gently. 

“Ye-yeah, I do,” she said, snapping out of her thoughts and pulling back, turning around to hide the big breath she was taking now that she wasn’t in his hold anymore. But Jeno knew it anyway; she always did that even when he barely touched her or stood too close to her for more than two minutes. 

“Great, see you this Saturday, then,” Jeno smiled, winking at her before closing the door behind him.

Her heart was beating ten times faster than usual, and a grin was not leaving his face until he walked downstairs and saw Jaemin. That was going to be fun, but he needed to be careful. 

The party wasn’t chaotic like the high-school parties he and Jaemin used to plan every time their parents weren’t home, it was mostly their closest friends and some other people she had never seen before. But the music wasn’t too loud, there was nobody already drunken or high, lying on the floor, and most importantly, there weren’t couples all over each other in the living room. 

She found out later from her brother that it was an inauguration for the house Jeno just bought, finally free out of his parent’s clutches. But of him, there were no traces. 

She had been wandering around the place for like ten minutes now, a drink in hand as she hummed to the music playing from the speakers. Pushing the black dress she was wearing down her thighs, regretting the choice every two seconds she took a step and it rolled a little bit more up on her legs. 

“I was looking for you everywhere.” 

“You scared me!” She screamed, turning around too swiftly and spilling the alcohol all over his shirt, gasping and biting her lips nervously when she realized what she had done. “I’m sorry, shit, sorry. I can help you fix that.” 

“Enough,” Jeno stopped her, blocking her empty hand from touching his wet chest. “My bedroom, now.” 

“Yo-your bedroom?” She stuttered as he dragged her upstairs, leaving the party behind. “What are we doing in your bedroom?” 

Jeno laughed mockingly, pushing her inside. “We’re fixing the mess you made. Why? Thought I was dragging you here to fuck?” 

She moved her mouth without letting out a sound, feeling shame creep over her face. 

“Yes? Want me to fuck you, babe?” He asked, lifting her head up by the chin and smirking at her flustered face. 

“I – no, why would I?” She chuckled awkwardly, pulling away. “If you get changed, I can clean it, and then I’ll give it back to you once it dried,” she said, bringing the topic back to his stained shirt. 

“I have a washing machine here,” he said, hands moving to grab the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head, making her get lost in his toned chest and abs. She had never seen him so exposed, but she was sure as hell that he had never been like this before.

“Close your mouth,” he ordered. 

“It’s closed,” she retorted, grunting but still diverting her gaze from him. 

“Sure,” he chuckled, throwing the dirty shirt on his desk chair; he didn’t even care about the shirt, he just wanted to spend time alone with her. “Anyway, I need you to help me pick another one.” 

“That’s why I am here?” 

“Yeah, I told you, I don’t want to fuck you.” 

“Stop it. I don’t want either,” she replied, biting her lower lip nervously and tapping her high heels against the floor.  

Jeno studied her, another smirk curled his lips before he sighed. “Help me fix the mess you made so we can go to the party and have some fun.” 

When they reached downstairs again, she had no idea how she was still standing on her feet, staying too close to him and helping him close the buttons of the new shirt he picked got in her brain. Jeno pointing out all her weird antics didn’t help her much at relaxing. And just when she thought she was free and could find a corner to dance alone and then run home and avoid him forever, she got dragged on the couches. 

“We’re playing truth or dare,” Haechan chanted, making her sit next to him. “You can’t miss it.” 

“Truth or dare? How old are we? Fifteen?” She asked, looking around at the others, hoping somebody was going to back her up. 

“That’s why I never wanted to bring you along,” Jaemin booed, “because you’re boring.” 

She wanted to talk back, but the hums of agreement of his friends made her shut her mouth and squeeze more in her place. 

“We’re starting from the youngest,” Haechan said. 

“Man, why always from me?” Jisung huffed, rolling his eyes, receiving a look from his friend. “Fine, truth.” 

So they started playing, too many dumb dares and too spicy truths for her liking, but she tried to be likeable and don’t be a buzzkill. 

“Truth,” she chose for the first round, fearing the question, already knowing it was going to be something embarrassing or something she couldn’t answer because it wasn’t like she had many adventures. 

“Where was the wildest place you ever had sex?” Haechan asked, making her face heat up immediately.

“Dude, that’s disgusting, she’s my sister,” Jaemin whined, turning around and fake-gagging. 

But she was standing still, wanting to die under the interrogating gazes of the others. “I… I only did it in a bed,” she confessed as her eyes skimmed all over the room to avoid the mocking smirks on the others’ faces. 

“Wow, yeah, should’ve expected it from you,” he mocked, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. 

She bit her lip, nervously playing with the hem of her dress, until her eyes met Jeno’s. He was staring at her but she couldn’t decipher what he was hiding under his gaze or if his lips were turned in a genuine smile or a mocking one. But it didn’t matter… well, it didn’t until she had the brilliant idea of picking dare. 

“Guess what, we’re hoping you can spice up your life in one night,” Haechan joked. “You have to play seven minutes in heaven with Jeno,” he said, turning around and winking at his friends. 

She expected Jeno to gag or complain about the pairing, but he didn’t. He looked at her, stood up and then reached his hand for her to grab. She hesitated, looking over at Jaemin for approval, but she gagged instead when she saw a girl all over him. 

“Come on,” Jeno urged her, making her drift her gaze from her brother. “I’ve got a brand-new closet to try.” 

The walk to his bedroom was silent as she felt panic run in her veins. 

“You know that it doesn’t have to be sex, right? You can also just talk while playing seven minutes in heaven,” she mumbled when he opened the bedroom and started walking to the closet. “Or we could do nothing, that’s also valid, you –” 

“Will you shut up for a second?” He asked, turning around, stopping in front of her, pushing her inside before closing the doors behind them. “Great, so much better for my ears,” he huffed. “And, to answer your annoying questions, no, there’s no fun in that.” 

“We can’t do that in seven minutes,” she muttered. “Also you said you didn’t like me like that, you said that just before, you-” When he shushed her with a kiss she felt her knees buckle and her heart race and it felt like a fever dream. 

“That’s something that shouldn’t happen in this game, you know? No kissing allowed.” 

“No kisses but sex yes?” 

He chuckled, making her walk back, sitting her on a small white desk next to the wall, dress lifting up, barely covering half of her thighs. “Weird, isn’t it?” 

She hummed, breath shaking when his cold hands ran on her naked thigh. “Wait, I’ve never done this.” 

“I thought you said you did it in a bed?” 

“I – I did but it was ages ago and it was…” she stopped, embarrassed, “it was bad.” 

“Oh, yeah, not surprised,” he replied. “Do you trust me?” 

“I don’t know,” she whimpered when his fingers grazed her panties. 

“I think your body trusts me,” he whispered against her neck when he moved the panties to the side and felt how wet she was. “Is this from before? Did seeing me half-naked got you like this?” 

“N-no, why would it, mmh,” she stopped when his fingers started circling on her clit. “We shouldn’t – we shouldn’t –”

“Do this?” He asked, smirking and pushing a finger inside her, making her roll her head back against the wall. “I will make you come if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not your ex-boyfriend.” 

“Jeno –” 

“Shh,” he shushed her, lips barely brushing against hers, “you don’t have to hold it back,” he whispered, starting to move his fingers inside her wet pussy. “I know you want this so badly. You’ve been dreaming about my fingers for so long,” he cooed, smirking when she lowered her head in embarrassment. “It’s alright, baby. A lot of people would want these fingers buried inside of them… and you are the lucky one tonight.” 

“You won’t tell Jaemin, right?” 

He snickered, “what happens here is a secret, honey. Just relax, stop being so serious, that’s why nobody can’t stand you. You think too much.” 

She was about to open her mouth again and talk back but when his two fingers curled inside of her and hit the spot that made her tremble, she could only try to hold in the whimpers and let her head fall against his shoulder. 

“There,” he hummed, “so much better.” 

“Mhh,” she mumbled, her hand reached for his other arm and squeezed tight, trying to hold onto something, “feels good.” 

“I know, baby, I know. He didn’t give it to you like this, right?” He teased, moving his hand to reach for her hair and force her head up so he could look at her face, eyelashes fluttering and lips parted to let out low moans. “What about this?” He asked, adding a third finger and starting to move his thumb on her clit, eliciting a choked sob to roll out of her mouth and to open her eyes fully. “You like this?” He asked, but he knew the answer, she was dripping over his hand and her hips were rolling against his thumb searching for more friction. 

“Yeah,” she whispered, biting her lips, nails digging into his arm when he started to move faster into her, making her try to close her legs, embarrassed by the lewd sounds of her wetness, but Jeno only smirked and forced her legs parted. 

“No, pretty,” he whispered, “want to see you.” 

“I think I… I’m close,” she confessed, feeling her body burn up and a new weird sensation build up in her stomach. 

“You think?” He asked, tapping her cheek so she would open her eyes. “Oh… he never made you come?” 

She nodded, diverting her gaze again, feeling the sensation intensify with every thrust of his fingers. “Mhh, it’s too much, feels – feels too good,” she whimpered, hips grinding against him, and lower lip bleeding for how hard she was biting on it. But Jeno couldn’t care, he knew she could take it, she simply wasn’t used to it, but he was going to make her get used to it. This was just a preview of everything he could give to her, a small window on the world he could show her. 

“Come,” he ordered, “I don’t think we have much time. And you don’t want Haechan to hear you moan like a whimpering mess, right?” 

She shook her head before throwing it back, feeling a new sensation rush over her, her stomach tightened and her toes curled in her shoes while her hips bucked up against him. 

“No more, no more,” she whimpered, trying to push him away. 

“Shh, it’s alright, baby, it’s alright,” he shushed her, thumb grazing her cheek. She blinked, trying to shake the dizziness out of her brain, eyes falling on his lips, wishing she could taste them again because the kiss of before was so unexpected that her brain didn’t even have time to register it.

And Jeno knew it, but he needed her to crawl back to him, he couldn’t give her everything just yet. He needed time, precious time, filled with tests and games that she needed to pass and then maybe she would’ve gotten to him. He couldn’t even care about that stupid bet anymore, if the time was ticking and he needed to get with her in two months, he wanted to have her in the palm of his hands and play with her like a puppet. 

“I told you I could make you feel good like nobody else ever did,” he said, winking, pulling away, leaving her sitting on the desk, slowly realizing what just happened. “Like nobody else ever will,” he whispered, turning around, waiting for Haechan to call them down again. 

She shouldn’t have felt special. She shouldn’t have felt the butterflies fly in her stomach just because Jeno touched her for a stupid game. Yet, she did. Jeno was the only thing that filled her thoughts for the passing weeks. When she was trying to work. When she watched a movie. And when her hands shily moved on her body, desperately trying to replicate the feeling his fingers made her feel. 

But nothing came close to him. She needed him, every day a little bit more than the day before. But the more she craved him, the more he seemed ephemeral. She couldn’t reach him, she didn’t have his number, and she never dared to sneak into her brother’s phone to steal it. She already looked pathetic in his eyes, so she needed to win him in another way. She needed to appear charming in his eyes and make him fall for her for real. But she didn’t know what he liked, or well, the only thing she knew he liked for sure wasn’t going to make him fall for her. But it was something. And something was better than nothing. 

“Yeah, alright, I’ll wait here.” As soon as those words slipped out of Jeno’s mouth and Jaemin closed the main door behind him, she took the last steps on the stairs to reach him, running to the couch, waiting for him. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked when, coming back to his seat, he saw her sit there. 

“Because it’s my home?” She replied, playing dumb. “I thought both of you left.” 

“But I’m right here, so…” 

“Wanna watch a movie with me?” She asked, ignoring the way he was, not so subtly, trying to make her leave. 

He snorted, “why would I want to watch a movie with you?” 

“Because I’m bored.” 

“You are bored, not me,” he huffed, sitting down. “Also, Jaemin will be back soon, we don’t have time for a movie.” 

She shifted, sitting on her knees and placing her hands on his shoulder, “Then can we do something else?” 

He looked at her up and down, trying to study her expression, “Like?” 

“Promise you won’t tell anybody?” 

“What are you on?” 

“I know we said we weren’t going to talk about that night,” she started and Jeno stopped her immediately. “Exactly, so why are you bringing it up?” 

“Let me finish, please,” she begged, and Jeno nodded, curios to know where she wanted to go. “It was… good. I mean, you are good so, I was thinking that maybe we could…” 

“You want to be my sex buddy?” He finished for her, a mocking smile on his face. 

“I want you to teach me,” she confessed, feeling shame take over. 

Jeno raised a brow, tilting his head, “you want sex lessons from me?” 

She nodded, lip trapped in her teeth. 

“What makes you think I want to spend time with you? Especially like that.”

She stammered, not knowing what to answer and he rolled his eyes. 

“Okay, fine, since you want my attention so bad, let’s try this,” he said, turning around, face so much closer to hers now. “You have to prove to me that it won’t be a total loss of time.” 

“H-how?” 

He smirked, moving a strand of hair out of her face, “I gave you something the other week, didn’t I?” She hummed. “Give it back to me.” 

“I told you I don’t know how to do it, it’s not fair.” 

“Alright, consider this the first trial lesson. If you’re not a total failure, which I doubt, I’ll give you what you want.”

Her eyes moved around the room, suddenly realizing how dumb everything was. That was a bad idea. That was the lowest point she could reach just to have him somehow. 

“You know what, I… I think I don’t need those lessons,” she said, jumping off the couch but she had no time to walk around it that Jeno was already in front of her, stopping her in her tracks. 

“I know you don’t really want these lessons,” he said, pushing her back against the couch. “All you want is my attention, isn’t it? You got a taste,” he whispered, lips almost touching hers, making her lean closer, only making him smirk, “and you can’t get enough.” 

She wanted to deny it but there was no point anyway. It was written all over her face. It was in the way her thighs were squeezed together. It was in the way she had never worn clothes this revealing before around him. 

“Am I right?” He asked again because he wanted to hear those words slip out of her mouth, he wanted her to admit how obsessed she was with him. 

“Yes, I can’t get enough.” 

He smirked before moving his hand down on her neck, thumb caressing her jaw, “So… do you want to have a bigger taste?” 

She nodded and then dropped to her knees when he pushed her down. Hesitant, shaky hands moved to unbuckle his belt and push his jeans and underwear down, exposing his already half-hard cock. 

“Can you get me hard?” He asked, already knowing that it was a matter of seconds with the way she was looking up at him. 

No words slipped out of her mouth, she only nodded and then started pumping his dick, but his stern gaze made her lower her face. 

“God, I really have to teach you,” he complained, rolling his head back and sighing loudly. “Open your mouth, your hands are useless.” 

“Good,” he moaned when she parted her lips and stuck her tongue out. “See, you know how to do it, you just don’t want me to think you do.” 

She was about to retort when he pushed almost all the way down, making her gag around him. But the discomfort didn’t last long, it felt unexpectedly good. She liked the sensation of his length on her tongue, or how she could feel the slight throbs when she sucked harder. But what she liked the most was the way Jeno’s face was contorted in pleasure and how deep moans came out of his lips.

“Don’t give me those – fuck – innocent eyes. Where did you learn, uh? With porn – shit – or reading?” He asked when she opened her eyes and met his, making him lose his mind.

“No, don’t answer, I don’t care where you learned. I just – fuck – need you to keep doing that. Keep sucking,” he ordered, making a makeshift ponytail with her hair and guiding her on his length. “Can you take all of it?” 

Her eyes snapped up, looking at him, silently telling him that she couldn’t. 

“Oh, you can’t?” He snickered. “But I’m here to teach you. That’s what you wanted, right? For me – fuck – to teach you. Then learn,” he said, pushing deeper down, making her gag around it. “Relax your jaw and breathe through your nose,” he told her, slowing down, pushing out before sliding in again. “Good girl, just like that,” he praised, and her thighs clenched together at his words, feeling wetness pool in her panties. “You are good at this,” he smirked, eyes glistening as he watched her concentrated expression and the way her cheeks hollowed around his girth and her tongue twirled around his head when she reached the tip. 

“Do you exercise with Jaemin’s other friends? Uhm? Or am I the only one?” He grinned when she shook her head, still not pulling away from him. “No? The only one? The only one you get on your knees for?” 

She nodded again, stopping working on him to breathe again, “o-only you,” she said, glossy eyes looking up at him, drool dripping down her chin. 

“Can you be a good girl and take more for me?” He asked, wiping the drool away, and lifting her chin up. 

“More?” She asked, voice trembling. 

He hummed, “Can you let me fuck that pretty little mouth of yours? You don’t have to do anything but keep your mouth open for me.”

“Yea-yeah, I can,” she replied, parting her lips again and giving him full access. A muffled moan rolled out of her lips as soon as his hold on her hair tightened and he started thrusting into her mouth fast. 

“Fuck,” he moaned, throwing his head back, “you feel good. Are you sure this is – fuck – your first time?” 

She tried to nod, hands wrapping around his thighs as she started gagging more around him. “What, baby? Want to breathe?” He cooed but without stopping. “Here. Take a deep breath, just like that,” he said when he pulled out of her, making her cough to catch her breath again. 

“Oh, look at you, opening your mouth again,” he said, tugging her hair and pushing into her mouth again. “I thought you were going to start – fuck – crying. But no – shit – you love this, don’t you?” He teased, staring into her watery eyes, feeling his orgasm close already. 

She nodded, squeezing her eyes when he hit deeper, gagging around his length. 

“It’s alright, baby,” he moaned, “I’m close. Gonna fill your pretty mouth and you – fuck – you will take it all like a good girl, uh?” 

She moaned around him, closing her eyes, trying to relax more as his thrusts got faster, closing her thighs together, skin burning up in shame as she felt her panties get wetter and stick to her skin. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, gritting his teeth and coming into her mouth. “Swallow it. Everything,” he ordered, pushing lazily into her mouth, emptying himself before pulling out. “Everything,” he repeated, grabbing her chin, and making her look up at him, watching as she swallowed all of his cum. “Good girl,” he praised her, leaning in, making her believe he was going to kiss her but instead he licked a stripe of seed that dripped on her chin and smirked at her disappointed face. 

“Get up, you don’t want your brother to find you on your knees in front of my cock, right?” He said, reaching out his hand, helping her stand up after he pulled his pants back up.

“Come here,” he whispered, cleaning her chin with a napkin and fixing her messy hair. “That’s better, isn’t it?” He asked and she hummed, diverting her gaze from his, nervously playing with her fingers and squeezing her thighs together, feeling her pussy throb for how turned on she was. And Jeno knew it, but she needed to be patient. Time. He needed to take time. 

“What’s with that face? You wanted the whole thing, didn’t you? You have to earn it.” 

After that, other weeks of silence passed. Jeno only said hi when he passed over and nothing else. And she started to realize that she was being played, or better, that she was playing right into his fantasy, so she needed to get him out of his mind. 

But it wasn’t like she had any idea of how to stop thinking about him. She had tried for more than 10 years to stop her heart from beating so fast every time she saw his face, or don’t stutter every time he addressed her. And she never succeeded. So how could she do it now? Now that she got so much more than a taste, now that she knew what his lips tasted like, now that she knew what his fingers felt like, now that she could scent his perfume every time she closed her eyes. 

And, worst of it all, it felt like Jeno knew when she would start to get tired of playing this game of push and pull and always came back to her, every time giving her a bit more, and yet, a bit less. 

And then one day everything changed.

“Hey! You’re soaked.” His voice rang in the late afternoon in the middle of the street. It was raining and she forgot to bring an umbrella with her, also, she couldn’t call anybody because her parents and Jaemin were out of town.

“Yeah, I can see it,” she whispered, keeping on walking, not wanting to turn around and fall on her knees more. 

“Stop walking and get in, you’re gonna get sick,” he screamed, driving behind her slowly. 

“As if you care,” she mumbled, trying to shield her body from the cold, cringing at the way the raindrops fell inside her clothes and wet her skin. 

“I do care,” he whispered, grabbing her arm, and turning her around, chest to chest, rain wetting them both. “And now get in.” 

“I don’t need you to come and save me –”

“I said, get in,” he ordered, sharp eyes looking into hers, not giving her a chance to talk back or disagree. So she lowered her head and walked to the passenger seat without saying a word. 

“You can’t live without me,” he whispered when they were both in the car and started driving again in the chaos of Seoul’s streets. 

“You’re so full of yourself,” she huffed, crossing her leg on top of the other and turning her body toward the window, watching as the drops ran on the glass and the lights outside appeared blurred. 

“You are mad at me because I didn’t reach for you this week,” he said, tapping his fingers on the wheel, and it took a lot for her to don’t turn around and stare at them and imagine once again how they ran on her body and made her shiver. “Tell me I am wrong, come on.” 

She pressed her lips in a thin line, and then brushed her hair behind, “No, you are not wrong.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said, making her turn around in surprise, eyes focusing on his face, studying his profile, wondering why he apologized. “I didn’t want to leave you hanging for so long, I’ve been busy.” 

She hummed, looking in front of them this time, and squeezing in the passenger seat. Not replying because it didn’t matter anyway. He had been clear, she meant nothing to him, so what was the point of building up castles that were going to fall? 

“Why are you not taking me home?” she asked when she realized he was driving in another direction. 

“I know nobody’s home, don’t want to leave you alone,” he explained, coming to a stop at a streetlight, facing her and smiling… his sweet smile? The kind of smile he never, ever directed at her? 

“I’m an adult, I can stay home alone,” she replied anyway. She needed to push him away, she couldn’t keep falling for his game, no matter how sweet he appeared to be. It probably was fake, just so he could brag with Jaemin about how much of a gentleman he was and didn’t let his little sister all alone in the middle of a storm. 

“You wanted my company so badly the other day, why is it different now?” He grinned, before moving his hand on the shift to start the car again and sprint toward his place. 

“We won’t fuck tonight.” 

“Never said we had to,” he replied. 

“Then why do you want me at your place?” 

He shrugged, pulling into his driveway. “Are you sure you’re the only one that can’t live without the other?” 

She stood there, frozen on the spot, brain struggling to register his words and to comprehend if what she understood was what he meant. He liked her too? He wanted to spend time with her? 

“Wait,” she said, opening the door and running outside. Trying to don’t get wetter under the rain, reaching him under the porch while he struggled with the keys to open the do. “You find me annoying, you said you don’t want to spend time with me, you avoided me for so long, why do you do this?” 

Jeno sighed, throwing his jacket somewhere and getting out of his shoes as soon as they stepped in. “Undress.” 

“What! You said we weren’t going to have sex.” 

“It’s to give you new clothes, dummy,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “Follow me,” he said, walking to his room, a path she knew too well by now, and yet her breathe faltered just like the first time she found herself there. And it didn’t matter that nothing was going to happen, it was the thrill of being so intimate with him somehow.

“You didn’t answer,” she complained while he looked for something to give her in his closet. He turned around, a white shirt in hand, giving it to her that was now only covered with her panties and bra. 

“I find you annoying but maybe I like it,” he replied. “You look interesting under the surface.” 

She didn’t want to smile so big but her lips moved automatically, a dumb smile creeping on her face, eyes glistening. 

“Calm, now,” he warned as soon as he saw her reaction. “This doesn’t mean we are dating, but I wouldn’t mind spending time with you. And now get dressed, before I don’t keep up with the promise of before.” 

The heat of the house made them find comfort from the cold outside while they eat something while the television was turned on mostly to fill the silence between them. 

“Don’t you think it’s weird?” She asked while cleaning her lips from the soy sauce that dripped on her mouth. 

“What?” 

“Everything,” she said. “We’ve known each other for so long but… we don’t really know anything about us.” 

“You don’t?” He quirked a brow, licking his lips before placing down the empty bowl. “You think Jaemin didn’t tell me about all the questions you used to ask?” 

Her cheeks heated up, cursing lowly at her brother for not being able to keep a secret. “Okay, fine, but he’s not you. I don’t know it from you.” 

“Maybe you should tell me something about you. I think I can read you easily but not enough to get somewhere,” he said. “And you want to get somewhere, right?” 

She hummed and then took a deep breath before opening up. Talking over and over again, letting him know even the most irrelevant things about her. Letting him go deeper than anybody else, not even caring if something was embarrassing. She trusted him. 

And Jeno listened, finding out that yes, she was a lot, but maybe it wasn’t so annoying. And the more he knew about her, the better. 

And then he started speaking. But his words were calculated, just like the stories he was telling. He knew what he was saying, he knew what he was doing. He was giving her a piece of himself without actually giving her anything. Without letting her slip deep under his skin. Yet for her it was enough, no, for her it was everything. She had never seen him so open, had never seen his body so relaxed beside hers, no walls were diving them right there. And that, mixed with all the sweet tempting words from before, made her fall into a vortex from which she would never get out. 

Jeno had trapped her in his golden cage, but she did not know it yet, and probably, she would’ve never realized that.

“Why are you so happy?” Jaemin asked his sister, staring at her with a disgusted expression on his face. She had been hopping instead of walking for days, always had a smile on her face, and strangely she wasn’t clingy, always locked in her room, only God knows doing what. 

“Why do you care? Shouldn’t you be happy that your sister’s happy?” She asked back, pouting before grabbing something to eat and running upstairs again, hiding from her brother’s questions.

Jeno had kissed her. 

After talking for hours, after being so close and at the same time so far away, Jeno leaned close to her and kissed her. This time for real. A slow, sweet kiss. A kiss that she had well imprinted in her mind. 

But not only that. His hands had touched her skin, trembling, and full of shivers. His long, slender fingers had trailed over her thighs, and then over her hip and held her close to him. And if she closed her eyes she could still relive all those emotions, from his scent to his eyes that had never been so real and close to her before. 

Also, they had slept together. She, Jaemin’s delusional sister who had fantasized so much and for so long about ending up in his arms, had slept in Jeno’s bed. 

And not like the other girls he let pass in his bed before, asleep in a tangle of sheets and sweat and cum. No, they slept in fresh, clean sheets, with his arms around her waist and his breath hitting the back of her neck. And although in the morning when she had woken up, he was not there, that was enough. 

Because Jeno was in the kitchen preparing breakfast and bidding her good morning with a smile on his face that tasted like something new, something genuine. Big brown eyes creasing up in half-moons and cheeks lifting up. 

Though… there was a but.

‘You can’t tell anyone about this.’ He had told her as he drove her home, serious gaze facing the road, one hand gripping the steering wheel and the other caressing her thigh. ‘It’s our little secret. You know how to keep secrets, don’t you?’  

And she nodded, confident that she could do it. That if she had kept her crush on him a secret for so long, she surely could keep their ... relationship a secret? Or friendship? Or friends with benefits? She had no idea, she didn’t know what bound them together, she didn’t even know if there was actually anything that tied them together. But it didn’t matter, if it wasn’t now, it would be in a few months. It was only a matter of time. Jeno wanted to get to know her, Jeno wanted her to be a part of his life as much as she wished he was a part of hers. 

‘hey, it’s me. are you free this friday?’ 

She blinked twice, shifting her attention from her pc to the phone beside it, trying to understand why an unknown number was texting her until she opened the message and ‘– jeno’  appeared at the end.

‘how did you get my number?’ 

‘i have my ways 😉 anyway, for friday? i need to buy some things for my place, it’s too empty, thought you could help’ 

She breathed deeply, looking around only to waste time and not answer right away just to don’t look desperate. As if she didn’t already answer ‘yes’ in her mind even before she knew what they were going to do, as if she wouldn’t have always been available for him.

‘yep, fine by me. where do we meet?’ She replied after a few minutes, hands sweating and heart throbbing harder in her ribcage. 

‘my place, i’ll drive.’ 

And that wasn’t a date, surely not a date like she always imagined but it was something. It was nice not hearing him huff annoyed at her every word, or seeing that he didn’t move away from her with a disgusted face when their hands brushed together casually. He even laughed at her unfunny jokes. 

“Our parents were never home,” she said. After buying everything, he offered to buy her a milkshake in a small coffee shop at the mall, so now they were sitting at a table in front of each other. “I mean, even when they were, they never paid much attention to us.” 

“That’s why I was always there,” Jeno chuckled. “Your mother couldn’t see the mess me and Nana made.” 

She smiled, lifting her gaze on him, but still stirring the liquid in her glass. “I wanted to move out of there so many times, but my job barely makes me afford my car bills and the few hobbies I have. How did you do it?” 

“Well, it’s not fair when your dad pays half of it, right?” 

“Your parents are cool. I remember when they used to bring you and Jaem to the amusement park. I never went there.” 

“Never? Not even once?” He asked, surprised. 

“Nope,” she confessed, biting her lower lip, already embarrassed at what she was about to say. “I always wanted to win a bunny from the water gun game,” she confessed. “You won it to Jaemin once. I was so jealous of that plushie.” 

He smiled. “Well, I might win one just for you.” 

Her eyes lit up, locking into his, heart doing cart-wheels in her chest. “You would?” 

He hummed, hand under his chin, rubbing it lightly, “Why not? Next Saturday? How’s that sound?” 

“It sounds amazing,” she squealed. “I love you so much.” 

He smiled, looking at her, feeling a bit of warmth spread in his chest. Maybe she was nice. Maybe betting on her wasn’t the right way to start this. 

When Saturday night arrived, she was vibrating with excitement. Wearing a red top, a leather black jacket and black shorts, she grabbed her small bag and rushed outside, swiftly warning her parents and Jaemin that she was going out with her friend and she wasn’t sure she was coming back. Receiving no answer. 

But she didn’t care, she couldn’t care if at home nobody paid her attention. She had a date with Lee Jeno. Jeno was taking her to an amusement park for the first time and he would’ve even tried to win her a big, soft bunny she desired so much. So not even the bus ride – that she usually hated – to his place bothered her at all. 

“Hi,” she greeted shily when she walked into the driveway and saw him leaning against his car. Black jeans wrapping around his legs, black shirt covering his chest and red jacket shielding him from the light breeze of the night. 

“Hi, bunny. We’re matching,” he pointed out, dragging his eyes on her body and then smiling when their eyes met. 

“Yeah, we didn’t even plan it,” she replied, a shy smile widening her lips as she opened the car door and stepped inside. 

The car ride felt different from the others. The atmosphere was light while music played on the radio and they hummed along. There were no side-eyeing or annoyed sighs coming out of his lips like it used to happen when he was forced to bring her along because they couldn’t leave Jaemin’s sister alone. Now, Jeno glimpsed at her, diverting his attention from the street, with his lips curling in a warm smile. 

And even the whole date at the amusement park was different from all the other times they hung out together. 

It was like being around a different Jeno. He was carefree, laughing at her bad puns. He was kind, always paying for the rides tickets, drinks and food or wrapping a hand around her shoulders when they tried scarier attractions and she was afraid. And he looked beautiful, more than usual. There was something magnetic in the way his black hair framed his face, and his lips curled in soft smiles, making his eyes crinkle up too. He radiated a new sense of safeness. And she knew for sure that she was falling deeper. 

“Now that we tried everything there’s only one thing missing,” Jeno said, dragging her toward the biggest attraction. 

“The Ferris wheel?” she asked, tilting her head to look at him, fighting back the urge to intertwine their hands together. Jeno had been rather touchy the whole night, but she didn’t want to cross lines and ruin the amazing night they had. 

“Yeah, are you scared?” He asked, waiting in line. “You have me by your side,” he said and then leaned in, whispering next to her ear, “and when you’re with me, you have nothing to worry about.” 

She hummed, torturing her lower lip and shifting closer to him, and, unexpectedly, he wrapped his arm around her waist, and she had no idea how her knees didn’t fail her and make her fall to the ground. She didn’t even know how she didn’t pass out for the whole queue since his fingers kept caressing her skin. 

“We should be able to see the whole city when we get up there,” Jeno commented, looking around waiting for the wheel to start moving now that they were inside of a cabin, sitting next to each other. 

“Yeah, I guess,” she hummed, legs buckling in nervousness, and squeezing in her arms to avoid attaching to him like a koala on a tree. 

Jeno picked it up quickly and turned to her with a furrow. “Are you afraid of heights for real?”

“M-me?” She giggled awkwardly. “No, haha.”  

“You are shaking like a leaf,” he pointed out, hand resting on her thigh to stop – at least – one of her legs from shaking. 

“I’m fine,” she replied, taking a deep breath, trying to focus on anything but the way the ride was moving and how – in fact – Seoul was shining beneath them. “What was that?” She asked, panicking when they felt a jolt and the cabin stopped at the higher spot. 

“I think it stopped,” Jeno replied. “A planned stop… I guess.” 

“Planned? Or maybe the wheel broke, and we will fall, no, no, we will crash on the ground and you know there are no chances of surviving and this will be how we die? What will we tell my family, they don’t know about us, they think –” 

He kissed her, hands cupping her cheeks and pushing her close, air cutting short in her lungs not from fear but the chills that he was making run down her spine. “It’s alright,” he whispered, slightly pulling away. “I told you, you have me.” 

She looked at him not totally convinced because if the cabin fell, having him by her side wasn’t going to save her. Surely, it would’ve made her death sweeter, oddly, and tragically romantic but it was still death. 

“I’m sure it’s just to show the view,” he explained, kissing her again, and again, and then his lips moved down, kissing away the chills on her exposed neck. “But since you don’t like the view…” he whispered, cupping her right boob, squeezing just enough to make her roll her head back. “I can give you something to keep you distracted. What do you think?” 

“Yeah,” she moaned, “I’d like that.” She unconsciously parted her legs, not a single cross about being in public crossing her mind.

“Great,” he smiled, biting the skin of her collarbone, “feared you were going to turn down the offer.” His hands slipped down, cupping her mound and he grinned when her hips started grinding against his palm. “Oh, oh, keep doing it, keep grinding on me. It feels good, doesn’t it? The seam of the jeans pressed against your clit by my hand makes you go crazy, isn’t that right?” 

“Yeah,” she breathed out, opening her eyes to look into his. 

“You know, I thought you should’ve worn a skirt for practical reasons but this – shit,” he whispered when her moans got lower and deeper, “this is even better.” 

“I need you,” she whimpered, hands moving to try to touch him. 

“I know you do,” he cooed, “you’ve tried so hard to hold back all this time, the whole night trying to keep your hands to yourself because you just can’t help yourself, can you? Want to feel me,” he said, pressing harder against her covered pussy as she kept grinding against him, “no, no you need to feel me.” 

“Yes, please,” she whimpered, leaning closer to him, making their lips meet again in small kisses. 

“Can you do something for me?” She stopped moving for a second, confused by his request, but nodded. “Come in your panties like this,” he started explaining, tapping her hips to make her start moving again, “and then I’ll give you what you want.” 

And she did, even if it felt humiliating to come like that, grinding against his palm as if she was desperate, making a mess in her already drenched panties and barely holding back the moans. But it was all worth it when he smiled against her lips and whispered, “good girl, you are my good girl. Learning so fast, aren’t you? Making me so proud of you.” 

“Come here,” Jeno said, unbuttoning his jeans and freeing his cock. “Take your shorts and panties off.” 

“He-here?” She mumbled, panic running behind her open eyes. The cabin next to theirs couldn’t see them, the black windows shielding each crib hid them well, but it was such an exposed place anyway. 

“You heard me. Want to make you try something new. Come on, take them off and sit on my lap,” he ordered and she followed his instruction, trying to hide the stained black panties in her shorts as if he couldn’t feel the mess of her cunt as soon as she sat on his lap.

“You’re going to ride me, but I won’t get inside you.” Her face dropped, a bit because she couldn’t get how and because she just wanted to get there and finally have him, completely. But Jeno wanted to take it slow, he wanted to make her dance in the palm of his hand more, twirling around, following every single one of his words so well that he fell more and more every day. 

“Spit on your hand,” he ordered. “Like that, and now wrap it around my cock. You want it to slide perfectly between your lips, right?” Not that it was needed since her wetness was already making his cock slip against her so easily, but he loved seeing how much she obeyed him with no hesitation. He loved seeing that she would’ve done anything for him.

She nodded, doing as he told, eyes glistening because he was already so hard and it was all because of her, for her.  

“Don’t,” he stopped her when he could feel her trying to tease his cockhead against her entrance, “no fucking, remember?” 

“But why?” She huffed, pouting. 

“I want to save it for a special occasion for my special girl,” he replied before placing his hands on her naked waist and guiding her hips on top of him. “Just grind on me, remember before? Like you did with my hand?” She nodded, hand wrapping around his neck and forehead falling against his. “Do it with my cock, just like that,” he praised, kissing her gently. “Feel how good it is? It’s big isn’t it?” 

“Yeah, so big.” 

“Imagine it inside of you, stretching so much more than my fingers. Remember my fingers? How you dripped all over them and came so easily?” She hummed, hips bucking in shame and legs shaking at the idea of feeling him inside. “No, it’s alright. I know you remember them. I bet you spend your nights using yours, imagining it was me. Your little fingers – fuck – making their way into your dripping cunt, fucking yourself hard and yet…” he moaned, throwing his head back, “nothing can come close to me.” 

“No – no. It doesn’t – mmph – feel just as good.” 

“I know. But you need time, bunny. I can’t fuck you like this, in public, on a Ferris wheel. Not for our first time. Not when I’d leave you trembling and panting even more and you would have no strength to stand on your knees.” 

She trembled in anticipation, pressing further down, making him groan. 

“Fuck, you’re so good,” he said. “Need to feel you more. Lift your hips more.” 

“Li-like this?” She asked, whining when she had to pull away from him to give him space to grab his cock and start to rub it up and down her wet pussy. “Oh, this is, mmh, this is weird,” she mumbled, voice breaking a bit more every time that his tip pressed over her opening but never pushed in. 

“But it feels good, right? We need to come fast; it will start moving soon again, remember? You don’t want the operator to find you like this, right?” 

“No, no, I – that’s humiliating.” 

“I know, baby. I would never make someone humiliate you. So I need you to stay like this, don’t try to slide down on me and let me rub my cock against your pretty pussy, okay?” 

“Ye – yes,” she moaned. 

Jeno moaned, rolling his head back, when he started to rub his head faster against her dripping cunt and clit, the cabin filling with wet sounds and moans they couldn’t hold back anymore, not even caring if there was somebody next to them. 

“It’s good,” she whimpered, nails digging behind him, ripping the leather protection of the seats. “I’m – I’m close,” she breathed out, voice pitched and pussy clenching around nothing when another jolt shook the wheel and it started moving again. 

“Me too, bunny. Can you come with me?” 

“Yes, yes, please, faster,” she moaned, throwing her head back when he started doing that. Jeno had no idea how he was fighting back the urge to just penetrate her right there and then with no warning, slipping past her warm walls and filling her up, fucking her hard until she was nothing but a mess. And that thought made him grit his teeth and kiss her, cum spilling all over her cunt, triggering her orgasm too at the sensation of the warm liquid making a mess on her. She had never done that with her ex-boyfriend. And this orgasm was stronger than the rest, it left her shaking, whimpering, and panting in shame, in pleasure, in whatever drug Jeno was making her take every day that passed. It was becoming more and more of an addiction, yet, she didn’t seem to get enough. 

“Fuck,” he moaned, laughing lowly, trying to catch his breath. “That was intense,” he said, smiling at her, “grab your clothes and put them on if you don’t want the whole park to see you like this, though,” he teased, handing her the discarded panties and shorts. “It would be a beautiful view,” he said, watching as she tried to stand on her wobbly legs and get back into her clothes, “but I’m pretty jealous of it.” 

And another flush of heat rushed up her body, forcing her to lower her head. 

When the attraction came to a stop they barely looked decent, but they couldn’t care.

“Are – are you still trying to win the bunny for me?” she asked, head lowered as the realization of what just happened hit her, and it was clear as the sky how experienced and used to this he was by how he was walking as if nothing happened, as if he didn’t just come all of her pussy and then made her push her clothes back on, walking around in that mess. And the worst of it all was that she liked it, she liked that he left a mark on her somehow, that something of him was still on her skin. 

Jeno chuckled, almost as if he knew exactly what was running in her mind, finding it appealing how she would let go for a second just to go back to her usual serious and shy self in the blink of an eye. “We came here for that, right?”

He had promised her. And he kept his promises. Just like he kept his bets. But the more he looked at her, the more time he spent with her, the more he couldn’t see a clear line between the bet and reality. He knew he liked the thrill, he knew he liked the desperation, but he wondered if maybe, just maybe, he was starting to like her. 

Because when they reached the stuffed toys booth, it didn’t bother him that he had to pay to try to hit the target to win her that toy. He didn’t even find her supportive cheers annoying. He didn’t even mind that she kissed him as soon as – with a clear shot – he hit the target and made it fall after ten seconds of the game, winning her that so-awaited white bunny with big eyes and pink ears. 

“You’re so good at this,” she exclaimed, clapping her hands and jumping on the spot, waiting for the operator to hand him the toy. 

“I had the greatest support ever,” he smiled, handing her the plushie, smiling as she brought it close to her chest and hugged it tightly. A dream of a child coming reality after so many years. 

“Do you like it?” He asked even if he knew the answer. 

“I love it,” she replied. “Thank you for winning it for me and thank you for bringing me here,” she whispered. 

“No worries, I had fun,” he replied, reaching for her hand. “Should we head home? My place? How’s that sound?” 

“Amazing,” she replied, smiling from ear to ear, intertwining their hands, and walking to the car. 

She was still smiling, hiding her face behind the plushie for happiness and shame as she felt his cum drip slowly out of her. 

And Jeno was smiling too, thinking that if she finally had gotten his bunny, he had gotten his, too. 

“He’s your bunny,” he whispered close to her, “but you are mine.” 

“Your fridge is always empty,” she huffed, closing the grey door and huffing at her boyfriend that was sitting on a chair, scrolling through his phone. “How do you survive like this? How do you survive without me doing everything for you?” She asked, crossing her arms on her chest and glaring at him.

Jeno chuckled, placing the phone down and standing up, reaching her, wrapping his arms around her. “I know, bunny. I’m sorry. I promise next time I’ll make you find the fridge full.” 

She rolled her eyes, and pushed him away, “you know it’s a lie. You say it every time and then we would always starve if it was for you.” 

“Oh, come here,” he pouted, grabbing her wrist and pulling her against his chest again. “That’s better,” he smiled, snuggling their noses together, making her laugh. “See, you can’t be mad at me.” 

“No, I can’t.” 

She really couldn’t. Especially now that they were dating for almost a month. Even if she knew so many flaws he had, she grew to love them all. She couldn’t even hate how it had to be a secret because she still had him and that was all that mattered. Actually, she enjoyed that it was a secret. 

After a few weeks of sneaking around with Jeno going to her place to see his brother and having to sneak in her room or in the bathroom for a few kisses and heated make-out sessions, this was so much better. She spent most of the time at his place, telling her family she was at her friend’s house or at the library, it wasn’t like they cared anyway. And Jeno never made Jaemin come over when his sister was at home. So everything was working out smoothly. 

This was great. It was the illusion of living together, but she hoped that soon it would’ve turned into something real. Their story was getting rather serious, in a way she never expected. 

She brought some of her things to his place so she had no problems when she stayed over. They did many things together like grocery or buying things when something broke. Jeno always found time to have at least a Saturday or Sunday evening for them to go out to restaurants, and when he couldn’t, they usually went to other types of dates in the afternoon. They even bought a matching bracelet – that Jaemin didn’t notice because he paid her even less attention now.

“You’re not picking a movie, anymore,” Jeno said, chuckling, stealing the remote from her hands and making her whine.

“Oh, please,” she huffed, “for one bad movie.” 

“One is enough,” he replied, leaving a peck on her forehead, making her squirm and snuggle close to him on the couch. 

But even after he picked one, they didn’t pay the movie much attention because they were too busy kissing each other. She sat on his lap, fingers in his hair while his hands cupped her ass and pushed her closer to his body. And this happened almost every time, they just couldn’t keep their hands off each other, but they never did more than that. Jeno wanted to wait for a special occasion. 

And that occasion arrived. One night, Jeno brought her to a restaurant out of town; a fancy place she had never been to before. 

“You picked such a beautiful place,” she said while they waited for the second course, and she looked around still amazed. That wasn’t the kind of place she used to go, and they never even went together to a similar restaurant. Experimental cuisine, beautiful, elegant design, and classical music playing in the background.

“I’d do this and more for you,” he replied, caressing her hand on the table. “And, talking about doing things together. My parents have a house out of town and they don’t use it, thought we could go there together.”

“You mean just us or with your group of friends?”

“Just us. So we can spend some time alone, no need to worry about your brother, about anything.”

She hummed, “Yeah, I’d love to.”

“Great, you can come up with a lie, right?”

“Of course, I can,” she replied. “But, can I ask why Jaemin doesn’t have to know about us?”

“You know him, he would ever let me close to you,” he replied, shrugging. 

“But you’re his dearest friend. You are like a brother to him. I think he trusts you.”

“It’s not about trust,” he said. “It’s weird. And yeah... he knows too much about me to don’t want me near you.”

“Like? Are you trying to scare me away on our date?”

“No, no,” he stopped her right away. “But I’ve been a player most of my life, and as much as he can't stand you he wouldn’t want me to break your heart.”

“So... as long as he doesn’t know you can break it?”

“As long as he doesn’t know I can love you without him reminding me of my past,” he explained. “Hey, I love you. More than I ever loved anybody else, so can you please don’t let my past define me?”

She gulped, looking into his eyes and finding the truth. “Yeah, sorry, I’m just a little paranoid because... because nobody ever went this far with me.”

“I know,” he replied, smiling, “that’s why I wanted to take it slow, that’s why I don’t want to rush us.”

“Can we go back to your place?” She asked once they were in the car, the rest of the night proceeded smoothly as their conversation never drifted to her family again and they left the past right where it was. “I don’t want to go home.”

“I wasn’t planning on making you go home anyway,” he said, smirking. “I have a small surprise at home.”

“A surprise? Is that another bunny?”

“Better.”

But when they arrived home there was nothing, not physical, at least, and she looked at him with a furrow. “There’s nothing here.”

“Mhh, it’s something you had next to you all night,” he sang, walking close to her, wrapping his hands around her waist and moving her hair to the side, leaving a trail of kisses on her neck. 

She chuckled, “is it you?”

He hummed, making her twirl in his hold. “Do you want me, bunny?”

“Don’t I have you already?”

“Yeah, but I think you still want more, don’t you?” He asked lifting her up in his arms, waiting for her to wrap her legs around his waist and start to walk upstairs. “I can’t take your disappointed face every time we don’t go all the way.”

“You make me sound desperate,” she chuckled, hiding her face in the crook of his neck. 

“Because you are,” he replied, opening his bedroom door and laying her on the bed. And he was right because she didn’t waste time kissing him and moving her hands on his body to free him of his clothes. 

“Gonna make you feel good,” he whispered once they were naked, lips closing around her nipple, sucking and twisting, making her push her body closer to his. “So good, bunny. Like nobody else ever made you feel.” His mouth moved down, tracing kisses all over her abdomen and then over her mound before lapping at her clit, making her whimper and squirm under his kisses and licks. 

“No, shh, don’t move,” he whispered, pulling away from her slit. “Let me take care of you, bunny. I know he never did. But I’m not him, I’m not like anybody else.” His lips started moving on her again, sucking on her clit hard and then teasing her entrance, tasting her, feeling lightweight as his hands kept her legs spread open, fingers digging in the soft flesh of her thighs.

“Uh,” she cried, head thrown back, eyes squeezed closed and lips gasping for air. “It’s – it’s so good.” 

He smirked against her skin, chin getting wetter with the slick that was streaming out of her as his tongue and lips moved faster on her, bringing her to the climax sooner than she wanted. 

But even if she loved the feeling of his lips, she needed more. 

“Jeno,” she mewled when he pulled away, licking his lips and cleaning his chin with the back of his hand. “Ne-need you,” she stuttered, looking into his eyes, filled with lust and need. “Please, need to feel you.”

Jeno kissed her, one hand at the side of her head keeping his body up and the other stroking his hard, thick cock. 

“Gonna make you mine,” he groaned, aligning his length at her entrance and pushing into her, nails digging into his back as the never felt before stretch cut her breath. 

“Fuck,” she cried, searching for his lips, chest panting as she tried to calm down, “you’re... you’re too big.”

“No, bunny,” he reassured, caressing her cheek, hips backing away before sinking in again, “you can take me. You can take everything I give to you.”

She nodded, legs falling limper as her body trembled in his hold. 

“So good for me, bunny,” he praised, the veins of his neck popping out as he tried to hold in the moans. 

“Want to – want to hear you,” she mumbled, cupping his face. “Please, want to know I’m – fuck – making you feel – aah – good.”

And Jeno let go, groans and low moans rolling out of his parted lips as he started thrusting into her faster, making her get even wetter as she felt him reach deeper inside of her.

“You make me feel so good, baby,” he hummed, throwing his head back when her walls clenched harder around him and he knew it was just a matter of minutes. He couldn’t hold it anymore. They were made for each other. Fitting so perfectly that he felt good like never before. Nobody could come close to this, to her.  

“Fa-faster,” she barely breathed out, eyes half-lidded and lungs gasping for air.

“Faster?” He smirked, tilting his head, staring at her face, getting high in the way she was whimpering so nicely every time he pushed back and forth. “Can you take me, bunny?”

“Yes,” she screamed. “Need – need to feel you more.” She had no idea how it could’ve been possible, or exactly what more did she need from him. But she needed him. She needed him to get under her, and she needed to get under him. Tattooing each other under their skins.

And Jeno gave it to her. Going faster, pulling her legs closer to him, leaning down to cage her completely making her feel small and safe. He was always going to give her everything and more. Everything that would’ve been enough to never make her want to leave. Because she was his, and he was hers. And they belonged together.

“Je-Jeno,” she cried, feeling her stomach tighten up, silently warning him that she was close.

“I’m close, too,” he said through gritted teeth. “Your pussy’s so good, fuck. You are too good. Come for me, bunny. Come with me.”

And her body obeyed, squirming under him, hips bucking while her eyes rolled into the back of her head and another orgasm washed over. 

“Yes, just like that,” Jeno groaned, watching her face contort and shooting his cum into her, hips slamming messily against her ass while his hand gripped her waist harder to keep her in place. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling out of her and rolling at her side. “So, was it worth the wait?”

She smiled, turning to him. “You are always worth the wait.”

Jeno was... caring. Too apprehensive at times. Not that she minded all the attention but she sometimes wondered if he did too much. He insisted on picking her up when she came out of work. He always dropped her by when she went out with her friends alone. He drove her everywhere, saying that it was safer because ‘you may never know who you meet on the metro or the bus.’

But the weird thing was that one minute he was all over her, never taking his eyes off of her even for a split second, and then he was nowhere to be found, or he even got mad at her, reminding her to don’t be too touchy because nobody had to know.

Just like right now. He invited her to Haechan’s party but didn’t spare her a single glance all night but she had no intention of rotting on a sofa seat just to get back home after wasting an entire evening.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jeno snapped, glaring at Haechan pushing him off of her.

“Hey, man,” the brown-haired replied with a smug smirk on his face, “we were dancing. Had no idea you cared about her so much?” He grinned.

“Take that grin out of your face if you don’t want me to wipe it off with a punch,” he warned, glaring at him before grabbing her wrist and dragging her out of the living room, walking upstairs not even caring that she was hardly following his steps.

“Jeno wait!”

“Shut up!” He screamed, pushing her inside an empty room and locking it behind them with the key, stuffing it inside his pocket. “What the fuck were you thinking, uh?”

“W-what?” She asked, chest panting for running and because she didn’t expect him to react like that. 

“Stop with that fucking act of the innocent girl,” he barked, cupping her cheek with a hand and pushing her close to the nearest wall, pressing her against it with his body. “I was right when I said you would’ve crawled to every single friend of your brother. You’re such a slut.”

“What? Don’t call me that! You know it’s not true,” she retorted, voice shaking with fear. She had never seen him like this and she couldn’t even get why he was so mad. She and Haechan were only dancing, and nobody could know that they were dating, so it wasn’t like she had a choice. 

“Oh, it’s not true?” He cooed, squeezing her face tighter. “Then why were you grinding on him?"

“I - I wasn’t,” she whispered as tears started flowing on her face.

“Oh, nice,” he sighed, shaking his head, and letting go of her face, placing his hand beside her head against the wall, “now you’re going to cry. You were all over another man and you cry.”

“You know it’s only you. I’d never leave you,” she replied, lips quivering as she looked into his eyes and found them filled with darkness. “It was… it was the heat of the moment, he asked me to dance and you weren’t there and you said to keep our distances.”

“Yeah, but I think you need a reminder of who you belong to,” he said, flipping her over. "Need to put into your little dumb brain that I’m the only one.”

She nodded, shivering when his hands slipped under the dress, and she shouldn’t have felt so turned on because he was finally paying her attention, because he was showing he wanted her and nobody could come close to her. But she was. It was fucked up, and yet, her knees were buckling already under his touch.

“Need you to remember that even when I’m not by your side you’re mine and mine only. This body,” he said, running his hands on her thighs and waist and then squeezing her boobs, making her groan, “is mine. You are mine. Say it,” he ordered. 

“I’m yours, always yours.” 

“That’s better,” he replied, voice still stern, and hands slipping inside her laced panties. “Oh, wet already? You want me to be mean to you, don’t you?”

“No, I – I’m sorry.”

“I know you are,” he said, "but don’t lie to me. You’re either dripping because of him, which will make me very mad. Or...” He leaned closer, “you are a little slut that gets off to these things.”

She whimpered, feeling her knees buckle. “Don't call me like that.”

“No? You want me to call you bunny, right? Want to be my little bunny?”

She nodded, biting her lower lip when his fingers started moving on her clit. 

“To be my bunny you have to be good. And right now, you’re not. Prove to me you can be my good little bunny and not some cheap slut that lets all her brother’s friends pass her around, okay?”

“Yeah, I will prove it to you,” she said, trying to turn around but Jeno grabbed her wrists and blocked them together behind her back. 

“You’re not moving from here,” he ordered. “And be thankful I brought you here and not in the bathroom. Come here, on the desk,” he ordered, guiding her to walk over to the white desk at the side of the room. 

“Is – is this his bedroom?” She asked, looking around, seeing it was too decorated to be a guest room. 

“Yeah, is that a problem? Don’t you want to leave him a little gift of something he will never have?” 

“Je – Jeno you don’t need to be jealous, I-” 

“Shut up,” he groaned, ripping her panties and spreading her legs more. “You think you know him more than I do? You think I don’t know what he looks like when he wants to fuck someone?” 

She rolled her head back when he slipped one finger into her. “I wouldn’t have – fuck – I wouldn’t have let him.” 

Jeno snickered bitterly. “I’m not sure about it,” he replied, kissing her roughly and pushing another finger inside. “Your ass was pressing so much against his cock. Think I didn’t see it? Think I’m stupid? He was hard, wasn’t he? And you loved it,” he mocked, adding a third finger making her moan louder. “Because you love attention, you live for attention. You seek it. You crawled to me because you needed attention so how can I trust you? Tell me? How can I trust you with other men?” 

“I – I would never cheat on you,” she replied, trying to steady her breath and keep up with him instead of getting lost in the way his fingers made her feel. “If I could – fuck – dance with you in public, I – I would, I would only – fuck – do it with you.” 

“So you’re going to do it again just because I’m not by your side? Just because I don’t carry you around with a leash like a fucking dog?” He replied, stilling his fingers inside of her and tilting his head to the side. 

“That’s not what I meant,” she replied, trying to close her legs but he stopped her in her tracks lifting a finger and pushing her hips down against the desk. “Jeno, please,” she begged. “I won’t go to parties anymore, okay? I can stay at home, I never liked them anyway.” 

“And you think that’s enough?” He asked, picking up the movements inside her, making her breath shake and her nails dig in his arms.

“Then what more can I do for you?” She asked, tears flowing down her cheeks, feeling overwhelmed with emotions. Disappointing him was the last thing she wanted to do. 

“Don’t fucking cry,” he growled, leaning closer to her but pulling his fingers out of her. “I hate it when you cry. I hate when you do dumb things first without thinking about the consequences and then do this, play the victim.” 

“I just – I don’t want to upset you or hurt you. I don’t like fighting with you.” 

“Then use your brain?” He said, tapping his fingers on her mouth and pushing them down her throat. “The only time you’re not supposed to think about a thing is when I’m fucking you, got it?” 

She nodded, trying to kiss him back when he pulled his fingers out. “Can you forgive me? I’m sorry.” 

“Maybe, I’ll forgive you if you don’t disappoint me another time,” he said, letting go of her face. “Are you going to be a good girl?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll be your good girl,” she replied, moving toward the edge of the desk to feel him more. 

“Then bend over,” he ordered, waiting for her to follow his orders. “See, you can be good when you want to.” 

She was about to reply but then pursed her lips together, not wanting to get him mad even more. If she liked it when he got rougher, she still didn’t want to fight or make him truly upset.  

“This ass,” he said, hand slapping her ass cheek hard, making her jolt, “is mine. Got it?”

“Ye-yes.”

“This pussy,” another slap, but this time on her pussy, “is mine.”

“Yours.”

“And you,” another smack on her other ass cheek, “are mine.”

“Yours. I’m all yours,” she whimpered, feeling her skin burn.

“Now be a good girl,” he said, rubbing the skin of her ass, “and part your legs more.”

“I wanted to fuck your mouth but I need to feel you, need to fuck you hard and make you walk out of here with – fuck,” he groaned, pushing inside of her wet cunt, “make you walk out of here with shaky legs and my cum dripping out of you.”

Her nails scraped against the hard wood under her, head rolling back at the stretch of his cock. 

“Yeah, you like that? That was what you wanted, shit,” he moaned, “Wanted me to pay you attention so you got on my nerves to get this. You want me to be rough with you, don’t you?” He asked. “Answer me,” he groaned, pulling her flush against his chest and leaving a light tap against her cheek. 

“Yes, fuck, yes.”

“But if you – fuck – want me to be rough with you, you just have to fucking ask. But noo,” he cooed, a deep laugh rolling out of his chest. “It’s better to go around and act like a slut, isn’t it?”

“N-no,” she breathed out. 

He snorted. “And you know, if I only didn’t care so much about you I’d let him fuck you. I’d love to see the – fuck – the disappointed look on your face," he said, wrapping a hand around her neck and squeezing it before kissing her hard. “Because he can’t fuck you like I do.”

“I – I know," she moaned, feeling her knees shake. 

“Nobody can fuck you like I do,” he whispered against her ear. “Say it,” he ordered, “say that nobody, nobody, will ever make you feel as good as I do.”

She threw her head back, ass arching against him, pleasure making her feel dizzy as she struggled to make the words come out of her mouth. “No - nobody will ever make me – mmh – nobody will make me feel as good as you.”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“You feel good,” she moaned, head falling forward, not really sure she could last longer. “No,” she whined when he pulled out. 

“Turn around,” he ordered. “Want you to look into my eyes while I break you.”

She stumbled on her heels, hardly turning around and sitting back on the desk and in a second Jeno was inside her again, thrusting into her mercilessly, knocking the breath out of her lungs. 

“You make me so fucking mad,” he groaned, kissing her roughly. “I wanted to get home and – shit – fuck you gently all night and here we are,” he said, cupping her face, “we have a party to get back to and we look like a mess all because you never know when to stop.” 

“Too much," she mumbled, looking into his eyes, hips shaking. 

“No, you can take it, you wanted this and you will take this. I know you’re close, you’re – fuck – squeezing me.”

“Play with your clit,” he ordered. “And come for me while you look into my eyes.” 

“Y-yes,” she replied, sliding her hand between their bodies and starting to move her fingers on her clit, wanting to roll her head back but forcing herself to keep it up and stare at him, feeling the orgasm come. 

“Shit, yes,” Jeno moaned. “Just like that. Good girl, my good bunny,” he praised, kissing her. "Yeah, that was what you wanted. And keep bein’ my good bunny and come,” he ordered, giving one last thrust that pushed her over the edge. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she cried, locking her legs around his waist and digging the nails of the hand around his arm into his skin.

“God,” he groaned. “Mine. All mine.”

“Yeah,” she breathed out, meeting his lips in a soft kiss again, “I’m all yours.”

Jeno leaned his forehead against hers as they both caught their breaths and came down from the high. “I’m all you ever wanted," he whispered. “All your life you wanted me. And now you have me, bunny. You have me right here, so don’t you dare leave me.” 

She wasn’t supposed to be there, eavesdropping a conversation about her that she wasn’t supposed to hear. But when she come back from work, she opened the front door and heard Jeno and his friends talk in the kitchen, surely Jaemin wasn’t there, or there was no way they would have that conversation. But she didn’t do it on purpose and she had no idea if it was better like this or living in a lie. 

‘You didn’t win the bet, technically. It was two months and you started dating her after three.’ Haechan complained. 

‘Yeah, but I got to her after one week, I think I win.’ Jeno replied and even if she couldn’t see his face, she knew there was a smug smirk on his face. 

‘I mean, the bet involved both fucking with her and dating her so I think he’s right.’ Jisung chimed.

‘And as I told you she fell on my feet. She was literally begging for my attention so my point was proved.’ Jeno 

She felt her eyes flood with tears and ran away with the intention to confront him at home. Receiving more humiliation in front of his friends was the last thing she wanted. 

‘God, I hate you, man, Fine. Here’s the money.’ 

Jeno scoffed. ‘I don’t want the money,’ he replied. ‘I think I found a better prize.’

“Honey,” Jeno said, opening the door of his place. “I wasn’t expecting you to be home, why’s your car in the driveway?” 

“Don’t call me honey,” she said, standing in front of him, crossing her arms in front of her chest and staring at him. 

“Oh, what happened? We didn’t have a date, right?” He asked, trying to guess why she was mad. “And surely today is not your birthday.” 

She took a step forward and slapped him, making him flinch and stare at her with a surprised expression. 

“You are an asshole!” She screamed. “You played me for a fucking bet. You – you lied to me all these months! Five months of lies and games you played for some money. Is this all I am to you? A joke? A bar talk with your stupid friends? How much do they know about me? Did you have fun making fun of my innocence? Or was it funnier to laugh about how much I trusted you and let you do things I would’ve never done before?” 

“Hey, hey,” he said, trying to reach for her but she pulled away, glaring at him, making him understand that if he dared to touch her she was going to slap him again. “You are not a joke for me. And they don’t know a single thing about you. I don’t want anybody else to know so much about you, to get so deep under your skin. Everything that we did, everything you told me, had been just between me and you.”

“I heard you,” she retorted. “I’m not dumb, I know what I heard. I heard how hard you were trying to convince them that you were right and you won! All your daddy’s money and you still need to win more by betting on me!”

“I didn’t want the money,” he explained, walking closer to her again. “Can you let me explain?” 

“No, you’ve got nothing to explain. There’s nothing you can say that will,” she stopped, lowering her head and sniffling lowly, running the palm of her hand under her nose. “Nothing you can say will make you come out of this innocent,” she whispered, feeling new tears wet her face. This wasn’t supposed to end like this. She wanted him too much for this to end up so badly.

“Does it matter why I got closer to you? Do you really want a stupid bet to come between us?” He asked, trying to meet her eyes but her head was still reclined, facing the floor of his living room and her hair hid her face. 

“It’s not a stupid bet. It’s me. It’s us,” she replied with her voice full of anger. “And I won’t let you get away with this. I will tell everything to Jaemin. I will tell him how his best friend, well friends, played his sister. I will tell him how you used me all this time and you will see,” she said, finding the courage to look up at him, but when she met his eyes she couldn’t find fear. Jeno was unfazed, staring at her with a faint grin on his face.

“Honey, do you hear yourself?” Jeno chuckled darkly, shaking his head. “Do you really think he would believe you? His annoying, pathetic little sister who drooled over me for ages. And careful, that is what he thinks about you.”

Her mouth hung open, not expecting him to say something like that. “I didn’t drool over you,” she retorted, trying to push in the back of her mind the fact that deep down not even Jaemin cared about her. That truly she was way lonelier than she thought. 

“Shh, don’t cry,” he said, walking to her, caressing her cheek now that she let down her guard, shoulders dropping and heart crumbling into pieces. “You know you do. You wanted me so badly for all this time so… what’s different now?”

“You – you, this is all a game for you. You bet on me. You think nobody wants me.”

“Did I ever say that? No. But let’s be real, you’re 21 and nobody ever looked at you the way I did. All the things I did, I did them for you,” he replied, thumb brushing on her burning wet cheek. “I made you feel good, so why would you be mad at me? I never said I loved you when we started. I never told you that when I didn’t truly believe it.” 

“But you knew I… you knew! You knew I would’ve done anything for you,” she screamed, shaking harder in his hold, feeling both comfort and coldness in it. She couldn’t wrap her head around it, how he was the main reason for her pain and yet the main reason for her comfort.

“And? I knew how dedicated you are, so what’s the problem?”

“I… I… you know it’s not fair,” she whispered, looking down again, not bearing to his face. His handsome, gentle face that fooled her for so long. “You know that’s one of the worst things you could ever do.”

“Is it?” 

“Yes. And I’ll tell my brother and you will see. You won’t make me change my mind.” 

Jeno grabbed her waist, pulling her close to him. “You won’t tell him anything. Do you really want to humiliate yourself? What are you going to do? Tell him that you crawled to me on your knees because you needed someone to teach you about sex? You remember right why it all started? Imagine how he would feel knowing that you go around asking all his friends to fuck you.”

Her eyes drifted on his face. “I don’t go around doing that,” she said, tears streaming down her face. 

“Maybe…” he replied, wanting to bring up the way she was grinding on Haechan even if they were together, but deciding to don’t more fuel to the fire. “But if I would’ve said no, you would’ve. Isn’t this better for everybody? Your brother doesn’t know, and we still have each other.”

“I don’t want to have you,” she lied, meeting his eyes, scaring herself because how could he be so impassive? How could there not be a trace of emotions? Did he care or not? 

“No? Now that you finally got me, you don’t want me anymore?” 

“No – not like this,” she replied, trying to stop the sobs and don’t look even more like a mess. The mess he made. “You – you are a completely different person, you – you are not who I thought you were.”

“But I am me. You loved me all these months, and trust me, that was the real me. Why don’t you love me anymore? Why would you push me away, bunny?”

“Do-don’t call me bunny,” she said, glaring at him.

“But you love it so much, don’t you? Do you still have the bunny I won for you? Remember it? I can give you so much more than that.”

“I – I need you to love me, I don’t need this. I don’t need toys. I don’t need lies. You hurt me.” 

“And I’m sorry, alright? I never lied to you when it came to us. I would’ve broke us off if I truly didn’t like you.” 

“Yeah but I, I’m not sure I want you anymore,” she said, slipping out of his hold and grabbing her purse and jacket from the couch. “We – we need a break.” 

And Jeno watched her go, opening the door of his house and closing it behind. He didn’t cry, he didn’t run after her, he didn’t try to stop her. 

He knew she was going to come back to her. 

Crawling, just like she did the first time. 

She was lost. Everybody around her noticed that. Weird, she thought, that for once they were paying attention to her. But she couldn’t tell the truth, she shrugged their oppressions off, pretending that it was just life, work and lack of sleep.

And that wasn’t a total lie. She had spent sleepless nights up, Jeno’s ghost haunting her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge every night. Because if during the day she could pretend and try to distract herself, at night she couldn’t. 

Jeno was everywhere. He was like her shadow, walking behind her, a cold wind blowing around her, covering her with shivers. He was imprinted on her body, his fingerprints burning up on her skin, leaving scars that weren’t physical, scars she couldn’t mend or sew. Scars he left open, bleeding, and poured with salt. Scars only he could heal. And only he could make. 

And she didn’t know what to do. If it was better to go back to him, let him heal her pain and hope he wasn’t going to scar her again or leave immediately. Admit to herself that certain things just weren’t meant to happen and let him go, slowly, bleeding some more, but let him go. 

And it took her two weeks to make up her mind and take the most painful decision of her life. 

So when she found herself at his front door she felt every second pass, slowly, prolonging that torture more. 

“Coming.” She could hear his muffled voice from the other side of the door and wanted to leave, not sure that after seeing his face she would’ve carried through. But she was there, and when she took the first step back, it was already too late. “Oh, you didn’t warn you were going to pass by,” he said, surprised of seeing her there. 

She hummed, “No, it was a last-minute decision. Can I come in? Or are you already busy with somebody else?” 

Jeno sighed but moved to the side. “I told you, I love you. I would never move on so easily.”

She shrugged, before turning around again. “Actually it won’t take long, so you can go back to what you were doing,” she said, making Jeno furrow. 

She came back, but he already suspected she didn’t come back how he wanted. 

“I thought about it a lot,” she started saying, fingers playing with a loose thread of her sweater but she was forcing herself to look at him. “I thought about us a lot and I realized I can’t do this. I can’t have you, not like this, not after everything.”

Jeno blinked repeatedly, shaking his head. “You want to break up with me?” He asked to make sure that was the point she was making. 

“Yes,” she replied. “It pains me a lot but… I need to put me first. I am worthy unlike all of you think.” 

Jeno hummed, rubbing his chin and wetting his lip. “You are, you sure are. But… you know nobody will make you feel as good as I made you feel, right?” 

She didn’t answer. She feared nobody was going to make her feel what he made her feel, but that couldn’t be possible, right? There were so many people in the world, he couldn’t be the only one for her. 

“Nobody will ever know you as deeply as I know you.”

No answer again, just broken eyes looking into each other. 

“Do you really want to erase all of these years?”

She furrowed at his words, chuckling bitterly, “You never paid attention to me.” 

“Are you sure? Just because I was looking at you from the sidelines, silently waiting for the moment to have you? We love in such a different way you think I don’t love you. How could you be so full of yourself thinking that your way of loving is the only right one?” 

“I don’t think my way of loving is the only right one I… you… you never loved me,” she whispered, feeling her heart clench because she had to repeat it to herself every night and doing it again, reminding herself that he never loved her but only played her like a puppet on a string, brought her to her knees, and made her feel worthless. It proved once again that everybody was right, that she was nothing special, nothing more but a sideshow for everybody to buy a ticket and laugh at her goofiness and futility.

“Here you go, doing this again. Do I have to get on my knees to tell you I love you?” He asked, taking a step closer to her. 

“No, there’s no –”

“No, I’ll do it,” he stopped her. “Here I am, on my knees for you.”

She clenched her fists and wanted to slap him again for missing the point so many times. “You bet on me!” She replied, screaming at his face. 

“That’s so irrelevant,” he replied, keeping up with her angry gaze, not even flinching.  

“No, it’s not. And you’re lucky I didn’t say a thing to Jaemin –” 

“Shut up,” he stopped her, standing up once again, voice harsh before it turned sweet and caring again, “I thought we were clear about not telling anything to him, right?”

“No,” she fought back. “I won’t keep my mouth shut.”

Jeno rolled his eyes and stopped her, a hand around her cheek and another around her waist. “Now you stop and listen to me,” he groaned, “alright, darling?” She hummed, tears running down her face again, and hated the way the only thing her mind could think was how much she had missed the feeling of being in his arms. 

“I’d never hurt you on purpose, I love you and it doesn’t matter if it took a bet to get it. I do. And I want you to put it in your mind. Please, let me show you how much I love you,” he whispered, kissing her neck, making her shiver and push him back. She couldn’t fall, not again, not now that his games were all revealed. “Shh, shh, don’t fight it. Don’t fight me,” he rasped. “Remember how you were always all over me? What changed now?”

“You are not who I fell in love with,” she managed to say, shivering and squirming under him, feeling that the power he had over her was once again making her walls fall down. 

“Just let me prove it to you, let me prove you it’s always me, the only one you love so much. Because you love me, right?” He cooed, caressing her cheek, and wiping away the black rivers of mascara on her face. “I know you still love me. I know your heart cannot beat with me out of your life.”

She didn’t answer but only hummed, shivering when his hand reached the small of her back and pulled her closer. Tired, she felt tired. And once again, he was the only one keeping her up on her feet. He was the only one that didn’t let her fall. But she wondered if it was because he truly cared, or if he needed to control her. If this sense of comfort was also fake like everything else. But her mind couldn’t tell it, not now at least, and she only hoped that when she did, it wouldn’t have been too late. 

“You don’t want me to leave you. You cannot live without me. Remember?” He whispered, caressing her face gently, reaching her hair, caressing her scalp, fingers moving in circles just like she liked, in the same way that would always make her fall asleep with her head on his lap, or against his shoulder. “You told me, whispered it to me while laying on my chest, fantasizing about our future together.” 

“That – that was before…” she sniffled, trying to fight it off, trying to grasp onto what was left of sanity, screaming to the small part of her that wasn’t completely devoted to him to please wake her up and make her get out of there. But there was nothing left of her that wasn’t madly, deeply, and completely in love with him, lost for him, devoted, obsessed with the feelings he brought along. Nothing of her didn’t scream Jeno anymore. She was his. Every inch of her skin. Every cell of her blood. Every thought in her mind, about him. 

And he knew it. Because he truly had her imprinted in the back of his mind. He had studied her for so long, silently, without making her notice. He knew exactly what she needed and how to give it to her. He knew how neglected she was and how she needed to be valued, loved, praised, and cherished. And he was going to do it. If she let him, he was going to give her everything and more. 

“But I’m still here,” he smiled, and then he kissed her as his hands moved to gently cup her cheeks and kiss her lips. “See, there still are my lips on yours,” and then he moved down, “and on your neck… right here,” he sucked. “Right here, bunny, where it makes you shiver so much under me.” And her body trembled in his hold as if it was a command, something natural starting from her brain as soon as his lips moved, like a magic spell.

“Yeah, you know nobody else will know how much you love being kissed there,” he hummed, snuggling his nose against her skin. “Or touched here,” he said while his hand moved under her sweater and brushed against the skin of her hips.  

“Jeno, we – you need to stop,” she shook her head, trying to stop him once again. To stop herself from falling into the wolf trap. 

“Do I? Does your body want to?” 

“I don’t care what my body wants. I know this is wrong.” 

“How is this wrong?” He asked, pulling his hand out of her sweater, but still keeping the other on her cheek, caressing softly. “It’s us, bunny. It will always be us.” 

She swallowed hard, trying to understand if he was lying or if he was being honest, but she couldn’t get it. She had never been good at reading him and he had played her so many times she had no idea if she could trust him. But what was he gaining from this? Why was he fighting so hard to keep her when he could’ve had anybody else? Why was he still trying to keep her with him if the bet was done? Sure, that was wrong, the worst thing he could’ve ever done but it was in the past. He grew to love her. He loved her. Lee Jeno loved her. And he was doing everything to prove it to her. 

“Do you want it to be only us, bunny? I need to hear you say you want me to show you how much I love you.”

“Ye – yes,” she replied. “Want it to be only us.”

And she fell. She had thrown herself out from the tenth floor of a building with no parachute and didn’t even realize it yet, and by the time she would’ve opened her eyes and realized what she had done, it would’ve been too late, too close to the ground, too close to crushing down. Her fear of the Ferris wheel would’ve been her reality. 

They were once again in an amusement park, going round and round, running after fantasies, marking each other, biting off pieces, bleeding. While the Ferris Wheel kept falling but from higher, much higher than where they were before, and death, even if by his side, wouldn’t have been sweeter and tragically romantic. And while meeting her tragic faith, the only thing she could hope for was to never open her eyes, to never realize the rose-colored glasses carnival Jeno locked her into, but to pretend, and pretend… and pretend until there was nothing left to do, until her sad destiny would’ve welcomed her and lulled her with the ideal of a love story that was only in her mind. 

“I love you so much,” he kept whispering next to her ear while he had her body pressed under his, hands intertwined together over her head, chest pressed against her back, hips thrusting against hers, lips kissing the blades of her shoulders, trying to go deeper under her skin because if only he could’ve, he would’ve. “I love you and I want you to never forget it.” 

And all she could do was hum and moan under his expert hands that played her like a violin. “I – I missed you,” she cried out, letting go of a confession she couldn’t keep in anymore as another orgasm rushed over her body. 

“I know,” he whispered, holding her closer. “Can’t get enough of me, can’t – fuck – be without me.” 

“I – it’s getting too much,” she whimpered, pressing her head against the pillows of his bed. “You feel too good,” she wept, holding his hands tighter, feeling her heart burn up when he started to whisper again how much he loved her, how much he needed her. 

“We fit so well, bunny,” he whispered, pulling out and turning her over, slipping into her again, holding her limp, tired body in his arms as he picked up his rhythm again. “We are made for each other,” he said, caressing her wet cheek. “So don’t ever let anything – fuck – come between us. Not the bet,” he groaned, feeling another orgasm approach them, “not your brother. Not another man. Nothing and nobody, fuck.”

She hummed, lazily blinking, eyes barely adjusting to see his face, and smiled. She smiled because that felt like heaven. She smiled because Jeno looked like an angel. She smiled because after being a loser for her entire life, there was a small patch of paradise reserved even for her. “Just us,” she whispered. 

And by the time they came together she had no more strength to keep her eyes open, even less to talk, but there was nothing more to say. She had nothing more to say, not for now, at least. Her wounds were healed.

So she let go in his arms, drunk in his scent and warmth, heart beating with the hope of a better future. A hope that was fueled by a reality that was all distorted. And in her dreams, she couldn’t hear him, but he would’ve made sure to remind her of that promise every day. 

Jeno turned around, eyes studying her relaxed face, fingers grazing her cheeks, moving her hair out of her beautiful face, a grin creeping on his face as he leaned down to kiss her parted lips. 

“It will always be us, bunny,” he promised. “Always.” 

I hope you liked it, please leave feedback and let me know with comments, reblogs or asks ♡ For more support consider donating.

Part 2: shattered glasses

[captains-simp]

Can your write a longer version of the Romanov (Romanoff) teacher x fem reader and/or with Carol Danvers or Yelena Belova? (I know she is her sister but they aren’t really)

And I’ll buy you two cups of coffee. Or if u do All three characters, (not at once but maybe eventually in another story), I’ll buy u 4 cups 🥰

F-four cups?? Bdosskdskssosjs I'm on it!!

2.8k words

Warnings: teacher!Natasha X student!reader, teacher!Carol X student!reader, unhealthy power dynamic, dub-con (not really?? Putting it to be safe) age gap (R is 18), smoking, being caned, praise, degrading, strap on sex, oral on strap on, gagging and overstimulation

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Your head fell back against the brick wall as you exhaled heavily and let the thick smoke escape your parched mouth. You stared up at the clouds amongst the perfectly blue sky and made out various shapes the clouds displayed, each telling their own story. You smiled when you spotted a laughing dragon.

"Y/n." Came a snappy voice that pulled you from your daydreaming. You recognised the voice instantly and clenched your teeth together as you dropped your joint to the floor and stepped on it.

"Yes, Miss Romanoff?" You rolled your eyes and glared at the teacher approaching you.

"You know smoking is not permitted on these grounds. Neither are the those." The redhead stated as she eyed the the packet in your pocket and held her hand out for it. You begrudgingly handed it over.

"Detention. 7 o'clock. Do not be late." She warned before heading back towards the old building. You continued to glare daggers into her back as you watched her leave, those damn hips swaying with every step.

You would be the first to admit your teacher was hot. With all those curves and a look to kill, yes you were attracted to her. But there was a lot of teachers at the school that were easy on the eyes. The difference with Natasha was she seemed spent on making your life at that school a living hell.

It felt like she was always out to get you, giving you detentions left and right and shouting at you for seemingly nothing. So being attracted to her while she played the role of the your own personal guardian devil wasn't easy. Plus: it was beyond frustrating being horny at a boarding school.

The day dragged by after that. Every time you looked up at the clock on a classroom wall it had barely changed. You just wanted the day to be over with.

Finally, 7 o'clock came and you dragged yourself to Natasha's classroom a few minutes late. You would be lying if you said you hadn't deliberately been late to piss her off. Not to mention you had made it quite the habit with your teacher. You were a sucker for tradition.

"I do hope that one day you'll learn the importance of being punctual." Natasha said from her desk where she didn't look up from marking.

"I guess today just isn't that day." You said as you slouched down in your seat in the back row.

You frowned as you noticed a workbook wasn't placed on your desk already. That was usually all your detentions consisted of, you doing more work. You looked up and saw Natasha watching you darkly. You struggled to hold her gaze for more than a couple seconds.

"On the contrary, y/n. I think today is exactly that day." She said with a small smile you didn't trust at all. You rarely saw her smile. Brief, forced ones towards her colleagues was all you thought she was capable of. But the one she gave you, it was hiding something.

"Come here." She said suddenly and you found yourself getting to your feet rather hastily.

You made your way down the room and stood infront of your teachers desk with some nerves. While you had never strived to piss off any teachers, their threats never seemed to scare you because you knew there was nothing they could really do. It never got any worse than a series of tedious detentions. But you found yourself not wanting to test your teacher that evening.

Natasha stood up from her chair and put the papers to the side before walking around the desk and past you. You didn't look back to see what she was doing but you could hear her open the door to her supply room. There was one in every room in the generously sized school. All stocked with books and alike, but you had never seen the inside of Miss Romanoff's supply room, it was always too dim.

Her heels clicked against the wooden floor as she made her way back to you. You still didn't dare turn around, maybe if you had Natasha wouldn't have pushed your back down with alarming force that had your front pressed against her table in less than a second.

You gave a startled cry in alarm and went to get back up but Natasha's hand stayed firmly between your shoulder blades and forced you to stay flat against the desk.

"Miss!" You called but she didn't respond. Instead, her other hand wandered up the back of your left thigh. Her touch was light as a feather and it brought out an involuntary shudder from you despite the screaming in your head.

Natasha then hiked your skirt up over your hips. You stayed silent at the act. In shock more than anything else. Perhaps part of you wanted to know what she was planning.

What you didn't expect was to feel a sharp sting across your ass and a cracking sound echo across the room. You cried out again and tried to get off the desk but your teacher was too strong.

"What the fuck was that?" You demanded as your ass continued to sting furiously.

"I thought some old school punishment would fit you better, y/n. Nothing else quite seems to suffice." She explained and brought the cane back down on your thinly covered ass. You jerked forwards and gripped on to the edge of the desk firmly as another cry was ripped from your throat.

She hummed in consideration for a moment, most likely pausing for an extra second just to taunt you, before dipping her fingers under the waist band of your panties and pulled them down your legs. You whimpered quietly and pressed your thighs tightly together, not wanting your teacher to see any possible and surprising signs of what her actions were doing to you.

When your panties were at your feet you breathing became more shallow and you awaited the next strike in fear.

"I think ten strikes will suffice." She declared and your eyes widened. "But let's not forget I also have to teach you the importance of punctuality. How many minutes late were you, y/n? Seven?"

"Please." Spilled from your lips. You weren't sure you could handle seventeen strikes from the devil crafted stick in you teacher's hand.

"You can take it, darling. After all," She started as she leant forward to whisper in your ear, "Daddy knows best." You shivered from her words and tried to ignore the way they seemed to travel through your body.

A harsh strike came down suddenly and you cried out pathetically and gripped on to the desk like a lifeline. The cane in harsh, random strikes after that, each one as unpredictable as the last and all of them hurting more.

Tears sprung to your eyes and yet every hit added to your arousal that filled you with shame. You were sure Natasha noticed it because every time you pressed your thighs together she kicked your legs apart again, surely seeing your wetness as she did so.

"That's it, sweetheart, it's done." Natasha cooed as she ran her cold hand over your throbbing ass. "You took it so well." You flinched from the contact but luckily she didn't linger too long on the broken skin, instead letting her hand drop further down.

You couldn't help the breathy whine that escaped your lips. "Perhaps too well." Natasha mused as her slender fingers glided over your glistening folds. You leaned back into her touch and was partly surprised that she let you, consequently slipping the tips of her fingers through your folds.

You whined louder at the teasing contact but Natasha withdrew her hands and instead smacked your pussy hard. You lurched forward and moaned at the impact.

"Come here." Natasha said but didn't give you much chance to respond because she gripped the back of your shirt and hauled you through the room. You stumbled the whole way but didn't dare question your teacher. She pushed you into the storage room, much to your confusion, until you stumbled into what felt like a table and the dim light flickered on.

Your breath caught in your throat as you caught sight of all the packed shelves around the room. There were more sex toys in the surprisingly small room than you could even process with more range than you could ever beging to fantasise about.

You admired as many as you could in the time Natasha stripped herself of her clothing and stepped infront of you to pick out a dildo to attatch to the harness she wore. Her eyes raked over the large collection and landed on one of the biggest with a confident smirk on her face. She grabbed the toy and some lube and stepped behind you again where she attatched the toy and prepared it with the lube before tangling her hand in your hair to hold you against the oak table.

"You like my collection, sweetheart?" Natasha asked as she ran the strap through your folds. You hummed vaguely, too caught up in the thought of her using the toy on you.

"Answer me, slut." Natasha said lowly and thrust the strap in.

You moaned loudly as your teacher pushed more of the inches in and you squirmed beneath her. She gave another harsh thrust and burried the rest of the strap in to your pussy.

"Well?" She asked teasingly as she withdrew the toy only to slam it back forwards harshly.

"Yes!" You cried out as you squeezed your eyes shut.

"Yes what?" She tested.

"Yes, daddy!" You moaned in bliss and desperation.

"Fuck, this pussy's so tight." Natasha smirked above you, no doubt knowing the slight buzz of pain you were feeling at the stretch of her toy. You moaned in response as she continued to thrust the toy in at a merciless pace.

You were so lost in the overwhelming pleasure Natasha was giving you you were unaware if anything that wasn't her or the toy. Even the cold surface of the table pressed so harshly against you had slipped from your mind. So it was no surprise you didn't hear the heavy footsteps entering the room.

"Evening, Danvers." Natasha greeted and your eyes snapped open. You tried to look back at who ever Natasha was talking to but she gripped your hair tighter and held your head down against the desk making you whimper.

"You finally did it, huh." Came the voice from behind you that you definitely recognised. "And I thought you were chicken shit." She mused.

You whimpered when you felt a hand snake down to your clit and rub the neglected spot slowly. But it was gone barely a second after it came.

"Wait your fucking turn, Danvers." Natasha spat at the blonde but you whined desperately.

"Please, daddy!" You begged, missing the contact instantly.

"I think the little whore wants me more." Carol chuckled and Natasha snapped her hips particularly hard at her words.

"Oh but she's going to cum all for me now, aren't you, y/n?"

"Please, please!" You begged more as Natasha's pace increased and you moaned more frantically, still trying to get a look at the blonde.

"Fucking cum." She demanded and at that, you lost all control. You clenched around the fake cock and trembled on the table as the brutal waves if your orgasm washed over you again and again.

But to your distraught, Natasha pulled the strap out as you came and effectively ruined the full effects of your high. You whimpered again at the loss but your legs felt too numb to fully do anything about it.

"Don't be so ungrateful." Natasha warned as she slapped your pussy making you jump slightly.

Carol stood infront of you as she started to unbuckle her belt and freed the strap she had been packing underneath.

"You're gonna use that slutty mouth to get my cock ready for your pussy now, Princess." Carol explained as she tapped the head against your cheek. You happily obliged and opened your mouth for the strap that Carol wasted no time in easing in.

She held your head in place where Natasha had let go and pushed the strap against your gag reflex. You coughed around the toy but the blonde shushed you as she kept pushing forward in a thoughtful silence, admiring the tears that sprung to your eyes.

"You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth." Carol muttered as she withdrew the strap slightly only to snap her hips forwards to effectively fuck your mouth. "You want it in your slutty hole now?" She asked with faux sweetness.

"She'll take whatever you give her." Natasha mused. You looked up and saw her in a dark red chair against the wall facing you, her eyes glued to your form.

Carol slipped the strap from your mouth when she deemed you had done a good enough job. It glistened in the dim light and disappeared from sight when your other teacher strolled back behind you.

You locked eyes with your red headed teacher as you felt Carol's presence behind you. Natasha pulled something from the cabinet besides her that you instantly registered as your amateur cigarette and the little tobacco that was still in the bag. She chuckled at the rookie joint you had made yourself but you didn't have much chance to feel any embarrassment or annoyance because the woman behind you gripped onto your hips tightly and pushed the entirety of the toy in in one thrust forward.

You moan was bordering on a scream at the action. Carol set about a merciless pace that rivalled your other teacher's and had you trembling instantly. You gripped on to the edge of the table tightly and babbled incoherently about how good it felt and pathetic pleas not to stop, all of which Carol had no issue aiding. She pounded the strap into you and revelled in your pleasured cries all while you tried desperately to hold eye contact with Natasha.

The red head was looking through her cabinet again until you brought out a box of Humidor cigars that probably cost more than a year at your school. Your cheap tobacco had been thrown to the side as she lit the expensive cigar all while smirking at you and your limited responses to her.

She brought it up to your lips with a knowing smile but you had no energy or ability to make an annoyed comment about how unfair the teacher student hierarchy was because Carol's pace seemed to increase.

"Don't stop!" You managed to cry out to the blonde. You clenched around the strap desperately as your breathing increased and.you could feel your high approaching at a fast rate.

"Cum, slut." The blonde ordered and with that, you fell apart again. You bucked back against the strap as Carol fucked your through your orgasm and kept going. You were becoming sensitive from the intense pleasure you had been feeling and all of a sudden it became too much.

You thought Carol stopped when she pulled out, but she swiftly flipped you on to your front and sunk the strap back in. Your head threw back as you moaned lowly and instinctively wrapped your legs around your teacher's waist to help you handle her deep thrusts.

"I want to see you cum this time." Carol said as she eyed you greedily.

You felt a pair of soft lips meet your exposed neck and turned your head away more to give Natasha's wandering lips further access. Her hands crept up under your shirt and massaged the soft skin contained by your bra. She pinched your nipples as she sucked and lightly nipped at your neck, all while the blonde continued to fuck you into your next orgasm.

You gasped before giving a long moan in relief as your third orgasm washed over your body. You trembled in the women's gripped as they guided you through your high that had you seeing stars.

Your head fell back against the table with a light thud as you tried to steady your breathing.

"Fuck." Carol smirked as she combed her hair back away from her face and grinned down at your body arrogantly. "We're going to have to do that again." She sighed as she pulled the strap out slowly making you whine.

"You want that baby? You want to be our secret slut?" Natasha muttered into your ear and bit down gently. You groaned and nodded your head in response.

"Please." You whispered, your voice going hoarse.

"That's a good girl." Natasha praised as her hand wandered down your body again.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Taglist: @caroldanvers2 @marvelwomenslut @marvelwomen-simp @likefirenrain @grxvitye @emilyprentisslittlewhore @lostandsearching @toastisawesome13

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[beyondspaceandstars]

“We Go Way Back”

Relationship: Yelena Belova x Reader Warnings: angst, attitude, possible vague Black Widow spoilers Summary: Your and Yelena's date night takes an unexpected turn when a surprise guest shows up at your shared apartment. A/N: So. I saw Black Widow on thursday....i loved SO much.......maybe even found a new comfort character..........and now here we are :) please enjoy

Masterlist

You were just finishing up dinner when two arms snaked around your waist. You giggled, staring down at the sautéed vegetables, as you leaned into your girlfriend’s touch.

"Smells good," she mumbled against your neck. Light kisses were beginning to litter your skin.

You sighed. "Thank you, love," you said, giving everything a final stir before turning off the burners. You went to start carrying items to the table, thinking your girlfriend would let up on her hold on you, but that ended up not being the case.

With a joyous laugh, you playfully scolded her, "Yelena, please," you smiled. "Do you want to eat or not?"

She hummed. Her hands drifted now to your sides and began creeping their way to your hips and thighs. "Depends on what you had in mind."

You let out a faux surprised gasp. "You’re shameless." You shook your head and peeled her hands away from you. She let out a little defeated sigh but you just shot her a playful look and continued with your initial mission of setting the dining table.

Thankfully, this time, Yelena lent a helping hand as opposed to lending her hands…elsewhere. The latter was a common occurrence, especially before date night dinners, such as ones like these. There had been one too many meals you were forced to reheat everything after you let Yelena get carried away.

After the food was placed — a nice spread of local meats, fresh produce, and bakery bread — you began working on getting plates and cutlery. Yelena had taken it upon herself to start breaking out the wine. She brought out two bottles you had just bought that morning based on the recommendation from the butcher. You maybe took cooking and dinners a bit too seriously, hoping everything was right especially when it was for your love.

You set out the cutlery just as Yelena finished pouring two (hefty) glasses of wine. You shot her a smile in thanks and began filling each of your plates. You did have to pat yourself on the back a bit, everything smelled wonderful.

Once you two had full plates and eager stomachs, you sat down and dug in. Yelena immediately let out an exaggerated moan as she practically devoured the meat. You blushed at her enthusiasm.

"This is wonderful, dear," Yelena praised and took a sip of her wine. "Very reminiscent of my momma’s cooking."

Your ears perked up at your girlfriend’s mention of her family. She did that every now and then, slip in random comments about them. You liked trying to explore it but knew the topic was a delicate one. You trod carefully.

"Yeah?" You asked, moving some vegetables around on your plate. "Did she cook a lot?"

Yelena shrugged. "We’d have dinners together, all of us, pretty much every night."

All of us. You had heard so far of a mother and a father but could there be more? Or were you reading too much into it?

Eventually, you settled on, "Family dinners sound very nice." That was enough, you thought. Just safe but still engaged. You eyed Yelena as she continued to eat. She hadn’t noticed you stalled or, well, she probably did, but wasn’t saying anything. You took large gulps of your wine, impulsively.

Just as your liquid courage was getting to you to maybe inquire further about your lover’s family, a hard knock at the front door disrupted the entire dinner. Both of your movements stopped abruptly. You looked between the door and your girlfriend.

"Were you expecting someone?" You asked.

Yelena shook her head. Her fork dropped with a loud clang as she pushed away from the table. In quick, determined strides she collected the gun kept in the side table in the living room. You watched her, quite stunned by her response. You don’t think you ever actually saw any of her guns come into action. When you first moved in, she just explained they were a precaution. You never asked what kind of precaution. You feared you were getting your answer now as Yelena walked to the entryway.

Gun drawn, pointed dead on with the wooden door, she called out, "Who is it?"

"You can put the gun down." Surprisingly, that was a female voice answering your girlfriend’s demand. Your brows furrowed in curiosity. You watched for Yelena’s reaction but she was still so stoic and intense.

Yelena scoffed. "Are you sure?"

Probably a bit foolishly, you decided to chime in. "Love," you said, "is everything okay?"

The female on the other side of the door spoke again, this time with an element of shock in her voice. "Love?"

Yelena let out a dramatic sigh as she relaxed her stance and surrendered her gun, placing it on the little table in the foyer. What seemed to be a bit reluctantly, Yelena opened the door forcefully.

Despite the mystery woman finally being revealed, it answered approximately zero of your questions. There, in the doorway, stood a redhead whose unamusing expression mixed with a slight smugness matched your girlfriend’s. The two just stared at one another, neither dared to move, as if they were challenging one another to try it.

Curiosity finally getting the best of you, you stood from the dining table and slowly made your way to the front door. Your fingers fumbled in nervousness as you stepped with caution.

"Hi, there," you said with a weak smile and gentle wave. The redhead’s eyes flicked over to you only briefly. Still, you continued, "Are you alright? Do you need something?"

"Oh, do I."

Yelena shook her head. "The only thing she needs is to leave."

You turned to your girlfriend, "Who is she?"

"Natasha," the redhead explained. "Me and your love here," she nodded towards Yelena, "we go way back."

You didn’t know how she had the air in her but Yelena let out another ridiculous sigh and stomped away. Like some defeated child, she took her seat once more at the dining table. You had never seen her like this before, so unattached and dismissive. You wracked your brain on how to mend this.

You turned back to Natasha. "Please, come in." Natasha took the offer quite well and gave you a nod of thanks before entering the apartment. You followed her into the dining room.

"We were just starting dinner," you explained as you raced for the kitchen, grabbing Natasha her own set. "Sit, have some food."

Natasha mumbled a "thanks" as you began filling her plate now with food. You even offered up some wine despite Yelena’s weird look she shot you when you reached for it. You ignored her odd behavior and took your seat once more. Somehow, the tension from the situation just got worse. Neither woman was eating now.

You cleared your throat as you prepared to dig into your meal once more. "I hope it’s still warm. If not, I can pop everything in the oven to warm."

No one said anything.

"Alright then…" You shrugged. "If I may, how exactly do you two know each other?"

That was the question that opened the flood gates. Yelena turned to you abruptly. "She’s my sister."

"Sort of," the redhead quickly retorted.

Your jaw went slack. Your appetite completely abandoned you now as your interest was greatly piqued. "Your sister?" You asked and looked between the two women. Well, they didn’t really look alike…

"Not biologically," Yelena explained. "We just kind of…lived together for a while."

"I see," you nodded. You scraped your fork against your plate, awkwardly. "If I may again, what brings you here, Natasha?"

The question certainly made Yelena perk up as she stared down her sister — or, whatever they considered each other. You resisted the urge to grab her hand under the table, unsure of what level of affection she was comfortable showing in front of this woman.

"Some business to attend to." Short and sweet. You felt these two were definitely related on some level.

"This couldn’t have waited until the morning?" Yelena gritted.

Natasha shrugged. "I guess it could’ve but then, apparently, I would’ve missed out on this lovely dinner with you and your… your, what? Girlfriend?" She took a bite of food. "Hmm, tastes close to someone else’s cooking." A shrug. "Anyways, I didn’t know you dated."

"You don’t know a lot of things."

"Okay!" You explained, trying to salvage whatever was left of this civilized conversation. Natasha and Yelena shared a look before turning to your flustered state. "We’re very happy you dropped in, right, love?" You glanced at Yelena. "And you’re more than welcome to stay, Natasha. I’m afraid all we have to offer is the couch if that would be okay."

Natasha glanced behind you at the living room before nodding. "That would be great," she smiled.

***

It wasn’t until you were standing at the kitchen sink cleaning the dishes from dinner that Yelena approached you to talk. Natasha was off getting ready for bed and your girlfriend hopped on this opportunity.

"I’m so sorry," she said as she stood beside you, taking on the role of the dryer in your little dishwasher assembly line. "I-I don’t even know where to begin. I’m sorry she dropped by, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about her—,"

"Love," you shook your head, giving her a sympathetic look, "it’s okay. I’m not really mad you didn’t tell me or that she’s here. From what I gather, it’s a complicated relationship."

Yelena let out an annoyed huff. "You have no idea." A beat. "But, still. I shouldn’t hide these things from you. She was a big part of my life and now you… you’re a big part of my life. It’s only fair."

Your heart warmed at her admission. She could be quite the affectionate one when she wanted to be. Quickly, you leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. She tried hiding her blush but failed beautifully.

"For what it’s worth, she seems very interesting," you shrugged. "I think she could be fun to get to know. Probably has a few embarrassing stories about you as a child."

Yelena gasped. "Don’t even think about it."

"Too late," you giggled, mentally marking that down as a subject for conversation. A brief silence passed over you two as you finished up with the dishes. Reaching the end of the chore, you said, "So, should I be on the lookout for any other siblings?"

Your girlfriend chuckled. "No," she admitted. "Natasha is it."

You let out a content hum in understanding. "One day we should have them all over."

"Them?"

"Yeah," you nodded, "your whole family. A nice, big family dinner. That could be exciting, right?"

Yelena rolled her eyes. Whether it was playful or not, you couldn’t quite tell. "That’s certainly one way to describe it."

[sugarbooger513]

Mine (Stepbrother!ChosoxFem!Reader)

This is my collaboration piece for @severelytalentless Are You Afraid of the Dark collab! I had a lot of fun writing this... work. I hope you guys enjoy it! Thank you to my very amazing friends who helped me out during this piece, especially my wifey @kentosovertime and my bestie @roughwithfluff. It wouldn't have ended up as well written as it did without the help.

Warnings: stepcest, possessive nature, unprotected sex (wrap your willies), oral (fem receiving), spit, Choso slaps reader in the face like once, he also slaps in another place, daddy kink, dom Choso, Choso is very petty, mentions of cheating ex, mentions of alcohol and nicotine consumption, degradation, praise, slight breeding kink if you squint

"Don't bother calling me anymore! I see what's more important to you.." You hang up your cell phone and throw it across the room. Your bed feels colder than it usually does, but you lay on it anyways, allowing your tears to flow onto your pillow.

Your boyfriend, now ex, of two years had called you with a plea, begging for your forgiveness. How could you forgive him, though? When you heard about your best friend sleeping with him, you couldn't get the image out of your head. You knew she thought he was attractive, but there was never a worry in your mind that either of them would take it anywhere.

You sit up, suddenly realizing that he would be on his way home from work in an hour, maybe two. You had to leave before he got home. It wasn't like you feared he would hurt you for leaving him, but he would certainly try to guilt you into staying with him.

Your heart rate increases when you realize that you have no idea where you can go. He knows all of your family, and is pretty loved by all of them. Your stepmom even has the habit of calling him her son. 'Her son...'

You rush to grab your phone, dialing the all too familiar number. If there's one person in your family you can call, it's the one he's scared of.

"Y/N," your step brother lets out a long yawn after answering, "what's up?" "B-bubs.." You can hear him drop something on his end. "Honey, why are you crying?" "He.. he cheated on me.. with her.. you were right.."

Choso bites the inside of his cheek, suddenly enraged at the thought. He never liked that guy. When they first met, Choso punched him in the jaw for being an asshole. You were mad at him at the time, but eventually understood why he did it. Since then, your ex was too scared to look Choso in the eyes.

Still, he now finds himself smiling.

"I'm so sorry, honey. Is there anything I can do?" Your sniffle makes him clench his fist. "He's going.. to be home s-soon." "Drive over here. I'll set up the guest-" "C-can you get me..? I don't want him tracking my car.."

Your pitiful voice goes straight to his crotch. Even though no one else is at his home, he finds himself trying to conceal his half hard cock with the kitchen counter.

"Of course, honey. Pack a bag. I'll be there in twenty." "I-I love you, Choso.. thank you." He has to bite his lip to keep from moaning. "I love you too, honey."

When he hangs up, he groans loudly and places his head on the cool marble. "Okay," he talks to himself aloud, "just.. keep yourself in control. You got this, Choso. She's your step sister, for Christ's sake." He shakes his head, grabbing his keys.

Still, he can't deny the things you do to him. It makes him feel terrible, but you're so damn tempting. He always figured that your hugs would last a little too long, your eyes scanned him a little too much, your hands lingered on him a little too suggestively.

He knew better, though. Your teenage years were spent on tons of dates with guys who were the complete opposite of your stepbrother. He would sit in his bedroom, no doubt on a video game, while he listened to guy after guy go in and out of your bedroom. It wasn't like you were a whore.

Those guys just eventually showed their true colors.

He knows that when you love, you love with your entire heart. That's why he was there for you through every heartbreak. He would hold you for hours, dry your tears with his own shirts, make you your favorite snacks, take you on long walks so you weren't cooped in the house all day.

Why? Well, because in his mind you already belonged to him.

You pace your living room, already holding your overnight bag in your hand. Of course, you'll probably stay with Choso more than one night, unless your dad tells you to stay with him and your stepmom instead.

Who are you kidding? If Choso offers to let you stay longer, you would much rather stay there.

Your front door opens, and you jump in fear that your ex came back early. "Shhh, honey it's me." "C-Cho.." Choso walks across the room in quick strides to pull you into his strong embrace.

His hands gently cradle you against his body. "He doesn't deserve your tears Y/N. Don't give him the satisfaction." "Y-you tell me that after every breakup, Choso.." "I know. That's because none of them deserve your kindness."

You close your eyes and feel yourself relax in his strong arms. He's never let you down. Choso has been the only guy in your life to prove he would always be there for you. You truly trust him with your life.

That being said, you can't ignore the feelings that have formed over the years for your stepbrother.

Your fingers grip his shirt in an attempt to pull him even closer to you. He sighs softly and buries his face in your hair. "Is there anything I can do for you, Y/N?" "Just... don't leave me. Please?"

His heart pounds in his chest at your feeble plea. His throat seems to dry, so he can't manage to speak. Finally, after what feels like an hour, he clears his throat.

"You know I won't, Y/N. I never have." "And never will?" His large hands squeeze your body a bit harshly, but your breath only increases at the feeling.

"I never will. Now, why don't we get you loaded into the car and get you home?" You finally pull away, blinking your still teary eyes at him so innocently. "Home..?"

The look on your face has his body on fire. You look so damn innocent, just like an angel. They're still red and puffy from your crying, but that only has him straining in his pants.

The things he would give to take the innocence from your face this second..

"Of course. My home is yours for as long as you need." He jingles his keys in an attempt for you to hurry and follow.

"What.. what about as long as I want..?"

That sentence has him blushing furiously. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course. You're family and I love you, so my home is yours. We should go though. I don't want to-" His sentence is cut short when you wrap your small arms around his frame.

"Cho.. you're the only person in my life that cares this much.." "Don't say that, princess. You know that isn't true." His large hands are so gentle as they rub your back comfortingly. The small action has your heart pounding.

It also has your core burning for more.

"I-I want to stay with you." "Princess, then why are we still here?" There's a hint of laughter in his teasing tone. "I mean.. stay with you." You bury your face in his broad chest, hoping desperately that he gets the hint.

And oh boy does he ever. He can't help the small groan that escapes his throat at the mere thought.

"Y/N.. you don't mean that." You finally look up, shocked at the tint of rosiness on his usually pale cheeks.

"I-I do mean it.. You're the only guy who has ever-" "I'm family." "Not blood. D-Don't act like you don't feel the same Choso!" His eyes widen, and your accusation has him backing away from you, causing your hope to falter. Had you been mistaken this entire time? Had the stares and lingering touches really just been his own way of showing platonic affection.

"Choso.. I-" "Am I truly that obvious, Y/N?" You blink once, twice before giggling softly. "Y-yeah.. have I not been?" "No. Your.. attention always seemed to be on others. I just assumed.. you saw me as your big brother." You shake your head, walking slowly to stand directly in front of him again.

You've always thought his eyes were gorgeous, a slight grey tint over the almost golden color, they truly are their own unique shade, but right now they seem even brighter.

"I.. I was scared. People would.. call us freaks if anything came of any attraction to each other. I mean.. we've known forever that we weren't related, but our parents have been married-" "Going on ten years now. Even dated for five years before that. Trust me," his hand reaches to touch your cheek gently, as if he's afraid he could break you, "I've been bouncing the pros and cons in my head for so many fucking years."

Your cheek fits so easily in his palm, as if it was made to be there. "So.. who gives a damn about the cons anymore?" His eyes darken at your words, suddenly not focused on your gaze, but your lips. "I don't think I do, Princess." He suddenly turns the two of you, pressing your body into the wall that was originally behind him.

His lips hover centimeters over yours, making you whimper pathetically. "Tell me what you want. I'll give it to you, Y/N." His lips turn at the corners, making the already handsome guy seem even more so. Your hands reach out, gripping the loose t-shirt he's wearing tightly. "I-I need you, Cho. P-please?"

"Well, why don't we take this little.. fiasco to my place?" "No." He tilts his head in confusion as you smirk. "Fuck me on his bed.. onii-chan."

His lips are on yours the instant that word leaves your mouth. Despite the fact you're almost certain that Choso doesn't know what lip balm is, his lips are so plush and soft. It catches you off guard, causing you to moan softly in his mouth.

He isn't shy about exploring your body either. His hands grab every bit of plushness they can. Your hips, thighs, ass, until he finally reaches your breasts. His hands squeeze them harshly, not caring about any actual pain he could bring. You gasp in the kiss, which allows his tongue to finally invade your mouth, easily taking over as the dominant one.

He tastes faintly of cheap wine and cigarettes, but that doesn't shock you. You've spent multiple nights in his room smoking and drinking after rough breakups.

You have to smack at his shoulder a few times before he pulls away, leaving a strand of saliva connecting the two of you. He lets out a deep growl before grabbing your arm to yank you upstairs.

He kicks the bedroom door open, not caring about possibly busting the damn thing. "I have waited for so fucking long," he shoves you onto the queen sized bed that you once shared with your ex, "to have you all to myself. Now that I have you..." He pulls the shirt over his head, causing your eyes to shamelessly wander over his toned body. He catches your gaze, causing him to lick his bottom lip in anticipation. "Oh I am never letting you out of my grasp now, little one."

You sit up and, without a second thought, throw your shirt off and into the floor. "A bit possessive, are we?" He chuckles a bit darkly. "I don't see you complaining. Besides," he rips your pants off in one fluid motion, purring at the dark spot already staining your panties, "it seems you know who you belong to." His head is almost instantly between your legs, his hands shoving your thighs open effortlessly.

He licks a long stripe up your covered slit, causing you to mewl. "Go ahead, princess, tell me exactly who owns you." This time he places a small kiss just over your clit. "F-fuck, you!" "Hmmm," his hand comes down to smack your pussy with an unnecessary amount of force. "Not good enough. Try again." He lands another smack, this one making tears prick your eyes.

"W-what do y-you want-" you cry out as he lands two more smacks on you. The pain is startling at first, but it quickly has you moaning in pleasure. "How about that fun little nickname you've given so many men that have entered your bedroom?" You squeak, making him chuckle. "Oh come on, there's no way you thought I never heard you. Always had the fucking nerve," another smack, this one even harder, "to cry out for other men while I was in my bedroom dreaming of making those pretty eyes cry in my bed. Come on, call me that sweet little name and I'll fuck you better than any of those assholes could have."

The last smack has you screaming, and you can't seem to care that any of your neighbors could hear. "D-Daddy! Y-You own me! I-it's always been you, I swear daddy! P-Please fuck me, I-I need it!"

He groans loudly before ripping your panties from your body. "I'll have to remember that you beg beautifully once I get you home." Two of his fingers spread you apart, and he smirks at the puddle of essence already pooling on the bed. "So fucking wet for me, aren't you?" He doesn't give you a chance to answer before he buries his face in you, eating you out like a man starved.

The sudden onslaught of pleasure makes you try and clamp your thighs closed, but one of his hands shoves it back down. His eyes look up at you as he continues to lap at your drooling pussy. The stare speaks every word he can't at the moment.

This is for his pleasure, not yours, and you're meant to lay back and take what he's giving you.

Your fingers tangle in his raven hair, and the slight pain has him growling against you. His lips wrap around your throbbing clit, sucking harshly, and he shoves two fingers into you without any warning.

You knew beforehand that Choso had slept with at least a few women, so he's not inexperienced, but you never knew that he was this experienced. His long fingers curl into you, pushing against the spot that has you screaming his name to the heavens. He has to rut against your mattress in a desperate attempt to get some sort of relief.

"D-Daddy.. I-I'm g-gonna cum.." He could already tell. Your walls sucked his fingers in as soon as they entered you, so he knew you wouldn't last much longer. "Hmmm," his sharp teeth nip your clit gently, but it still makes you squeak, "I sure hope you aren't telling daddy what you're going to do.. That would be awfully rude of you, little one."

The sheer dominance and control radiating from him has your eyes rolling in the back of your head. Since when was your sweet step brother so demanding? "C-can I please cum, daddy? I-It feels t-too good.." You feel that damn smirk against your clit. "Of course, baby. Just scream my name when you do it, okay?"

He really must not like you talking much, because he doesn't let you answer him before he starts ruthlessly pounding his fingers into your cunt. Your entire body arches from the bed as you cry out for him. It takes one last flick of his tongue on your swollen bud to have you writing in the bed, coming completely undone before he even pulled his pants off.

He slows down, but doesn't completely stop, allowing you to ride out your high as he uses his tongue to lap up every drop of sweetness pouring from you. "Good girl, I've got you sweetheart. Are you feeling up for more, or do you need to stop until we go home?"

He sits up, eyeballing your form as he licks his lips clean, ignoring the fact he's dripping your own cum from his chin onto you.

You giggle, still a bit spaced out from the intense orgasm. "W-want you.. inside me, please daddy?" He chuckles softly before reaching to finally unhook your bra and fling it to the side. "Of course baby. Where are your condoms?" "D-Don't have any. I'm on.. the pill." His cheeks flush a bit, but he doesn't question anything else.

He makes quick work of his sweatpants, leaving him in only his boxers. The outline of his cock alone has you snapping back to reality. When he pulls the boxers down, you outwardly moan when it slaps back against his abdomen. He's much bigger than any guy you've had before. Also, it's so.. pretty.

The shaft is a lot like the rest of his skin, a very pale color that almost shines if sunlight hits it. The head is a soft pink, very reminiscent of the blushes he always seemed to get if you teased him too much, with droplets of precum around it. A large vein runs from the underside of it, and you can see it actually throb the more he stares at you.

"See something you like, love?" You whimper at the very affectionate nickname. "I-is it going to fit? I mean.. I've never.." "Don't worry, little one," he gently lays you back, "daddy will get it to fit. If it hurts too much, just let me know. Okay?" he grabs one of your exes' pillows, placing it gently under your lower back. "O-okay, daddy. I trust you."

His smile warms your heart. "That's my good girl. Spread your legs for me." You nod, following his instructions immediately. His hand reaches between the two of you, grabbing his cock and gently rubbing the tip around your entrance. "You sure you want this, Y/N? I don't want you to feel forced." You whimper, nodding instantly. "P-please fuck me, Choso.. I've waited so long.." You spread your legs more, effortlessly enticing him.

When his tip enters you, you're already a moaning mess. It just feels too good. He watches your expressions intently as he slowly pushes into you, searching for any signs of discomfort. Once he's about halfway in, he stops completely.

"How you doin' baby? Any pain?" He leans down to give you a gentle kiss. "G-good. I-it kinda burns, but nothing bad, I promise." He smiles against your mouth and starts to push in again. "We're almost there, little one. Just- fuuuuck." He finally bottoms out, the stretch of it making you whimper loudly and wiggle around. He pants on your face, the scent of you still heavy on his breath.

"S-so fucking tight.. can't believe this is happening..”

He chuckles softly, giving a tentative thrust into your heat. You bite down on your lip, finding both pain and pleasure in the burn that courses through your body. "D-daddy-" He cuts off the rest of your sentence by leaning back onto his knees and grabbing the back of both of your thighs. He manhandles you easily into what you can only assume is a mating press.

"So easy to throw around, aren't you? My pretty baby.." He pulls out of you until only his tip is still inside before slamming back in, causing you to see stars. "You take cock like a pro, baby. I wasn't sure a cute little thing like you could handle it." You tighten around him at his foul language, causing him to growl. "I'm gonna ruin you for anyone else, baby. I'll make sure I'm the only one who can make you scream. You want that, baby? Want daddy to fuck the imprint of his cock into your slutty little hole?"

You throw your head back and cry out for him. "P-please! Make me your little toy, daddy. W-want you to own me.. prove who I belong to, please?" You know you've done it now from the way he snarls at you. However, the sudden ringing of your phone makes both of you freeze. He leans back up to wrap your thighs around his torso.

He's the first to reach to the floor and grab it, still buried deep inside of you. "Oh, lookie there.. a video call. Hello?" Did he-

"Choso? Where is Y/N? Why do you have her phone?" Your ex's voice sounds from the speaker, making your eyes shoot open. You meet Choso's eyes, mouthing the words 'hang up' over and over.

"What does it matter? She dumped you and called me." "Of course she did. Dude, let me talk to her." Choso chuckles darkly, finally thrusting into you, making you squeak loudly despite your best effort to stay quiet.

"What was that?" "Y/N. She's currently.. held up. Or.. down, rather." He smirks at his own joke, reaching down his free hand to start circling your clit with his middle finger. The feeling has you tightening your thighs around his waist.

"You... what?" "Are you deaf and stupid? I said she's busy, aren't you little one?" He smirks down at your form, panting and shaking your head in a desperate, silent plea. This can not be how everyone finds out about this. No way in hell.

Choso's mocking pout makes your face flare up. "She seems a little shy. Let me show you instead." "N-no! Choso I-!" The choking gasp from the phone call shuts you up. Choso's eyes show no mercy as he looks at you almost amused. "That isn't what you should be calling me, is it?"

You look directly at the camera on the back of your phone, your face a deep scarlet color. Before you can correct yourself, the hand that was idly playing with your clit launches up, smacking your cheek with enough force to have your eyes switch to his. He smirks and shoves his index and middle fingers in your mouth without warning, making the ring he wears clack a bit painfully into your teeth.

"Pretty little whore just needs to learn some manners. Don't you, love?" He gets a wicked grin seeing how you blabber around his digits, trying so desperately to behave and give him an answer. "Sorry, princess, I didn't quite hear you. Try again for daddy." He shoves his fingers farther down your throat, causing you to gag and cough. Spit pours out of your kiss bruised lips, making Choso moan above you.

Your teary eyes make him pull his fingers out, wiping the spit across your face. "Why didn't you tell me you couldn't speak? Silly little girl. Now, what should you be calling me?" "D-Daddy! I'm s-so sorry.." He groans, running his thumb down your bottom lip. He gently pries your mouth open before leaning over you, letting spit fall from his tongue into your waiting mouth. He purrs as you swallow it so obediently. "I know you are. You're such a good girl for me. Oh, he hung up." Choso chuckles softly and tosses your phone back to the floor.

"I believe that I have some work to finish, right baby?" Both of his hands grab your hips, surely leaving bruises, before he starts to mercilessly ram into your sopping cunt. Your throat is still somewhat raw from his fingers being in it not two minutes ago, but he's determined to pull every sound he can from you.

He slides one hand down, harshly pinching and rolling your swollen clit between two fingers. Your cries only encourage his ruthless actions.

"D-daddy I-I.. something.. something doesn't-" Your pleas are cut off when the hand on your hip actually lifts you off the bed, giving him enough access for the tip of his cock to batter into your cervix.

If you aren't sore tomorrow, he hasn't done his job.

Sweat drips down his forehead and chest as he growls deeply. "There we go baby. T-that's the spot. Cum for daddy, want you screaming until my name is the only t-thing you know." His hand starts slapping your exposed clit again, finally throwing you over the edge. When the coil in your abdomen snaps, you scream his name, raw throat be damned.

Choso hisses as you tighten around his cock, spraying his lower abdomen in your essence. "Sh-shit I-" His sentence trails off when he thrusts into you one more time, letting out an animalistic snarl as his own climax washes over him.

You can feel his cock throb as he unloads his seed deep inside you. The feeling makes you tremble and mewl. There's so much of it that it still manages to spill out, staining the bed sheets under you.

He's still panting pretty heavily when he slides out of you, careful in case you're still too sensitive. When you squeak, he reaches up to cup your cheek. "You did so well, baby. I'm so proud of you." You nuzzle into his hand, placing a small kiss in the palm. "Th-thank you, daddy. I-I'm so tired." When your eyes start to flutter shut, he carefully stands from the bed, shamelessly admiring your disheveled state. "I'm sure you are. Let me get us cleaned up. Then I'll take you home, okay?"

Your small nod is plenty of an answer, so he rushes to the bathroom to search for a rag. He takes only a few seconds to wipe himself clean before rushing back to your side. You wince slightly at the feeling of the cloth wiping you down. "Shhhh, daddy's got you baby. I'll be done in just a second." He smiles to himself as you visibly relax into his touch, allowing him to finish.

"You know," he chuckles as he helps you pull your clothes back on, "your dad is going to try and kill me." "Your mom is going to call me every name in the book." He nods in agreement, finally starting to dress himself.

"So.. should we stay quiet? I imagine shit-for-brain isn't going to, but we can play that off as him being an idiot." You bite your lip, weighing the consequences of either decision.

There's no doubt in your mind, you want to be with Choso. It's clear he's willing to do whatever you want, but from the look in his eyes, the answer is obvious.

"I'm not hiding it." He blinks at you in shock. "B-baby.. your repu-" You stand up, despite your legs screaming in pain. He's quick to rush over and pull you into his chest. "I don't care.. I love you, and I don't want to hide it anymore." You squeak loudly when he picks you up bridal style, holding you easily with one arm.

The kiss he gives you is soft and loving, full of nothing but his affection for you. "I love you too, Y/N. I want nothing more than to tell the world that."

He carries you downstairs to grab your overnight bag, and then out to put you in his car. He really refuses to let you do anything, since he even leans inside to buckle you up. Your protests have him laughing. "When you're with me," he kisses your lips after getting into the driver's seat, "you're the spoiled princess. Got it?"

The drive to his house is quiet. He holds your hand the entire time, stroking along it with his thumb, occasionally bringing it to his mouth and kissing each knuckle.

"Oh.. oh shit." "What?" You open your eyes from almost falling asleep.

Your blood freezes when you see what he's looking at. Your dad's car is already parked in his driveway.

Tags: @katgalle, @savonline

[hansensgirl]

not all who wander are lost.

summary. | He’s got your name on his tattoo, wearing the same damn clothes since three days ago. A bottle of gin in his hand, and you’d say he’s just wandering.

warnings. | Strangers to lovers, smut, naive reader, mentions of trauma, angst, fluff, slight violence, slight dub/con, slight blasphemy, drinking, DD/LG, daddy kink, corruption kink, ring/hand kink, size kink, creampie kink, teasing, spanking, choking, spitting, manhandling, praise, male masturbation, handjob, degradation, a bit of humiliation, oral sex, virginity loss, marking, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI.

word count. | 11k

pairings. | Daddy!Destroyer!Chris x Little!Reader.

a/n. | one of the few fics inspired/based off of chemtrails over the country club. please heed the warnings and don’t forget to reblog. ily! thank you so much to @dragon-of-dreams @mypoisonedvine @tenuntilfightcall and everyone else for helping me out with some information! and thank you to my bb sara @asadmarveltrashbag for beta-ing and being there for me during this insane month, ilysm!!

The first time he laid eyes on you, was six months ago.

Meadows like the ones that surround him only exist in movies and Instagram posts. But even those need editing for perfection. Yet, the ones around him made him feel as though he has camera lenses for his eyes. Each piece of grass is a beautiful green, and some had flowers between them. His thighs may hurt but the view is a reward for all the trouble he just went through. A cute cottage lies on the hill he stands on. It resembles one from a Pinterest board but he doesn’t mind.

Birds chirp, sheep bleat, cows low and chickens cluck amongst Ella Fitzgerald's rendition of Summertime. Chris walks a few more steps and onto the porch he goes. This isn’t his destination. Well, technically, it is. But he isn’t supposed to be knocking on your door like he is now, and his heart shouldn’t be beating out of his chest. To the right of this cottage — Chris’s right — is another cottage.

It’s more modern than he’d prefer it to be. It only looks so because inside lives a drug lord who is on the run. It’s truly unfortunate his girlfriend sold him out for immunity. He knocks on the wooden door and takes a step back. Who knows what kind of person is behind it. “Coming!” your sweet voice calls. Chris doesn’t let go of his grip on his gun that’s down the waist of his pants.

Even the sweetest seeming things can always end up being sour.

You struggle not to trip over your own dress. The tail of it drags behind you and sweeps the floor, too. But it makes you feel just like a princess, so you don’t care. On your hip is a basket, and inside is Cotton. Your bunny. She’s been your company for years, and you don’t know what you’d do without her. Barely anyone visits anymore, only because cars can’t handle the long drive up and many people hate nature. But when the occasional knock on your door echoes throughout the house, you can barely keep your excitement inside.

You open the door and gasp. The man… is brooding. And he’s not the type of broody that would grumble insults under his breath or the type that would stalk people, either. He’s the dreamy type, the man your parents say is bad news when really he just needs love. You take in his form. You can tell he’s slightly tired and you just have to give him credit for walking up to your home. He has no flaws, except for the dirt that stains his clothing.

“Hi, do you live here?” the strange man asks, looking around the inside of your home. You jump and you’re not sure why but your skin raises with goosebumps. His voice is deep yet so soft-spoken. For some odd reason, his hand is reaching backwards and you assume that it’s because he has some sort of ache from the walk. You finally register his words and look up at him.

“Y- yes, do you live here?” you stupidly ask. You don’t even realize what you just said until you noticed his puzzled look. “Oh, sorry,” you look down and notice that his black boots are covered in pollen, something that can be oh so bothersome. “‘S’alright, I was hiking a- and I don’t have anywhere to go… Do you think you could let me stay here?” he asks, letting go of the gun. “Uhm, s- sure, what’s your name?” you ask him, moving out of the way.

Naive, so fucking naive.

“Chris, what’s yours?” he asks, stepping inside. You give him your name and he nods. He goes to wipe his shoes on the rug in front of the door but there is no rug. You hand him a rag and he gratefully takes him, mumbling a small ‘thank you.’ “Are you a tourist?” you ask him, setting your basket down onto the floor. Cotton hops out of it and runs off to the kitchen, probably to chew on your apron. “No…” he solemnly answers. He hands you the rag back and you shyly take it.

“O- okay… Are you a photographer? I’ll tell you God’s truth, the most beautiful photos are taken when the sun rises, when it sets and when it’s raining,” you pointedly inform him. You drop the rag into your basket and turn back around, your dress spinning in a slight swirl. His eyes rake your body up and down, taking in every inch of your body. Red cloth with white polka dots covers your body and your mushroom earrings bring the entire outfit together.  Chris has to assume that the heavens above or whatever the fuck else is there have handcrafted you to absolute perfection.

He’s never read any stories about Greek gods, but he knows that Zeus would be absolutely infatuated with you. He takes note of how your body tenses up when he makes eye contact with you, and he gives you a small smile.

“I’m not a photographer,” he clarifies, looking around. He can’t believe you let him in just like that, but the more he found, the more he understood why. A lonely, innocent little girl like you doesn’t have anyone to tell you right from wrong. “Then what are you, sir? Are you lost? I can call the Consulate if you’d like,” you offer, walking towards him. “I’m not lost… I’m a wanderer,” he whispers almost hesitatingly.

“But you only ever wander when you’re lost, no?” you confusingly ask him. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head, before peering out of the window. Luckily, he has a direct view of the other cottage. He really did hit the jackpot. “Not all who wander are lost, little girl. Now tell me, why would you let a stranger inside your home?” he asks you.

Cotton hops from the kitchen to your bedroom, and you stand in place. “I… Well, I’m not sure. You didn’t give me any reason to not let you in or to make me believe you’re dangerous, sorry…” you shyly tell him. “Don’t apologize, just know that not everyone in this world is good. There’s always going to be someone with a little more darkness than the rest of us…”

Chris unzips his duffle bag, and you let out a giggle. “Quite ominous of you, but then again, it suits your whole aesthetic. The cool, bearded man, with his cool words,” you smile at him, but it carries a bit of sadness. “Treat this place as your own, make yourself at home. And if you need anything, I’m always here.”

Chris stays at the window for most of his days. Always with a pair of binoculars and a pack of saltine crackers. Sometimes, he pulls a juice bottle out of his duffle bag, You’ve countlessly offered him something that’s actually filling, such as angel cake and sandwiches. He rejects them all, and you wonder if he’s some sort of super-human. But technology hasn’t invented wireless technology yet, so it’s impossible.

“Uhm, Mr. Chris-Sir? I don’t think those crackers are good for you, they’re all you eat…” you sheepishly admit, carrying a cup of water to him. The mug has a little frog painted on it, but the green paint has chipped away over seven years. You set it down gently, onto the table next to him and Chris just stares out at the cottage. “Bird-watching is so cool, isn’t it? If you see a robin, let me know, they’re so beautiful,” you tell him, before walking off.

At first, he doesn’t take in your words. But once they’ve settled deep in his mind and sunk in, he realizes that you assume he’s bird-watching. He’d honestly take any other assumption, but at least you don’t know he’s spying on the criminal next door. He looks down at the table with a sigh and then notices what you’ve done. Not only did you set a cup of water down, but you also gave him two slices of toast. One has strawberry jam on it, and the other has melted butter.

His mouth surprisingly salivates, but it also doesn’t shock him. Every day he sits there, basking in the beautiful smell of your food and humming. His personal favourite is the smell of focaccia bread being baked. He watches and waits until you leave the room to go tend to the chickens. Apparently, one of them laid a few eggs. He quickly shovels the two slices of toast into his mouth and downs the glass of water like a starved man. Because he is one.

Cotton hopes around once again but all Chris sees is a fluffy white blur. He recalls his memories from when he was younger. Younger him always wanted a pet. Even a fish that would die in the span of two weeks would suffice. But his mom couldn’t afford it, so he dropped the idea. Sometimes, he wishes he had dropped other ideas, as well. Like the idea that he’d enjoy life as an undercover agent, or the idea of sacrificing himself for Erin.

His fingers are sticky with jam. He hates the feeling. He spreads his fingers out and goes to get up from his seat. “Shit,” he curses, realizing that something may happen while he’s away from the window. He stands there, contemplating whether or not he should risk his mission just to wash the fucking jam off of his stupid fucking hands. He calls your name, loudly, hoping you’ll hear him all the way outside the cottage.

“Is everything alright?” you shout, running inside the house. He didn’t expect that reaction, but he’ll take it. You’re holding onto the corner of two walls, slightly bent over. Your chest, your beautiful chest, is the first thing Chris lays his eyes on. He nearly chokes on his saliva, and he just can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. “Uh, hi, I need help,” he gruffly says, his voice a bit deeper than usual. He clears his throat with a loud ‘ahem’ and you begin to stand up straight, much to his dismay.

But he doesn’t think the image of your tits nearly falling out of your dress will leave his mind any time soon.

“Of course… Did you enjoy the toast? I can make you some more if you’d like,” you shyly offer him. “It was good, but I’m fine, thanks though. Can you stay here, right at the window, while I go wash my hands? If anything happens, you have to tell me.” Chris doesn’t leave any room for argument, but your curiosity and naivety get the best of you as always.

“What happens if I don’t tell you?” you ask him, walking towards the window. He blocks your path and suddenly personal space is no longer a thing you need. “You don’t want to know what I’m gonna do if you don’t, little girl,” he warns with a hint of lust in his tone. You nod your head and feel tingles bloom just above your core. You’re not sure whether they’re butterflies or those tingles.

Chris walks past you and you quickly rush to the window. You never realized how beautiful this view is until now. The sun is bright, angled in the most perfect manner so that it doesn’t shine directly in your eyes. The sky is so clear, even with the occasional fluffy cloud that always manages to look like some animal. The window blows gently, shaking the sheer curtains that frame you. You sigh and fold your arms, resting them on the windowsill.

You lay your head on your arms and stare out the window with joy filling your heart.

Chris watches you as you look out the window. You’re slightly bent over, once again. Your ass sticks out, and you subconsciously sway your hips side to side, almost purposefully teasing him. Your white dress has a few strings hanging from the hem, but it doesn’t make you look any less gorgeous. He feels like he’s in a dream.

Not only because of the beautiful scenery, and the beautiful woman in front of him but also because he’s trying his hardest to wash his hands quickly, but his movements are so slow. He looks down and rubs his hands together at a furious pace. Chris hears you gasp and he looks up. “Did you see something?” he asks you, turning off the sink.

“Yeah, my neighbour! I haven’t seen him in months, I need to go say hi,” you tell Chris, before rushing out the door. He only then registers your words once you’ve run out of the house and into the unknown. “Fuck- Wait!” he yells after you. He runs behind you and is so grateful when he notices you haven’t gone too far. But you’re still running and Chris’s target is about ten meters away, so he decides to do what he does best.

He decides to save you.

Chris’s feet hit the ground harshly, crushing the flowers beneath him. Running in socks isn’t fun, but at least he has something to protect him. He calls your name and crashes into you with all the force in his body. You both go down and hit the ground from his fierce tackling technique. You go to cry out in pain and lose your mind, but Chris clams his hand over your mouth. “Shh, be quiet. You’re not hurt, okay? I’m sorry I had to do that, but you can’t go running off like that,” he lectures, throwing his right leg over your body. He frames you down, and you don’t have much room to move. You’re frozen in place, chest heaving, and you furrow your eyebrows at his words.

“Listen, I need you to listen. You may not know me and I may not know you, but when I tell you to do something, you’re going to listen. Understood?” he chastised with a harsh tone. You nod meekly, like a little kid who just got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “And just so you know, that sweet neighbour of yours over there is wanted by the Feds.” Chris looks over his shoulder and doesn’t see the man there anymore, so he begrudgingly climbs off of your body.

You gulp thickly, out of fear and nervousness. Chris doesn’t seem to want to add on to this newfound information, so your anxiety makes work of it. For all you know, your neighbour could be a murderer. Chris senses your nervousness and gives you a pat on the head, almost as if you’re his pet.

Unbeknownst to you, the sight of you under him, helpless and with his hand clamped over your mouth is something that gets his blood (and hand) pumping. He helps you up, and you don’t even realize it until he brushes some dandelion seeds out of your hair. “Thank you… and thank you for saving me, I’m sorry I didn’t listen,” you shyly speak to him. He nods and shoves his hands into his pockets, finding an old cigarette from before he quit.

“‘S’alright, I just need a few things from you,” he gruffly reassured. “O- Of course, anything for my guest and for the man who saved my life,” you beam with a small giggle punctuating your words. He basks in it, almost as though it’s sunlight over a beach. “Ah, you flatter me. Just tell me about yourself, I’m going to be staying for a while,” he says as he turns around to walk back inside.

A bottle of gin is in Chris’s hands. The colourless yet pale yellow liquid swishes inside its rightful bottle. It’s half full, only because last night, he downed the rest. He hasn’t drunk in a while. Since he got over being left for dead. And that’s only six months ago.

He’s shirtless. Only left in his grey jeans and jewelry. His rings clink against the glass bottle and his bracelets hang a little past his wrist. The gunshot wound on his left side had a faint scar on it. He hates it. Every single time he stares in the mirror, that fucking scar just stares back at him.

His father told him it makes him seem more ‘manly’, but it just feels like a point of weakness. Maybe if he was a little quicker, he would’ve saved that bank teller. He would’ve gotten Silas behind bars. He would’ve been able to be proud of himself.

Chris groans at the memories and spins the cap off of the bottle. It flies somewhere across the room, probably hitting one of the wood walls. He mumbles a ‘fucking hell’ and brings the bottle to his lips. The last time he drank like this was three months ago, and he ended up fucking the bartender.

She was bent over the counter, her tits spilled out of her bra and his cock pummeled into her sloppily.

She ended up kicking him out after they were done.

Chris groans again and sits down on the bed, kicking his legs up. His pants are stained with the pigment of dandelions and grass. The splotchy stains are juxtaposed to the grey of his old jeans. They have wear and tear all over them, but he doesn’t care.

Every now and then, he sighs — he sighs quite deeply. The puffs of air come from deep inside his chest. He tilts his head back and stares up at the ceiling, thinking back to earlier today. He smiles to himself, recalling the way you looked so innocent beneath him.

He’s only known you for a few days, and he already has lewd thoughts for you. Fuck. He just can’t help himself, though. Especially with your innocent doe eyes and pretty little dresses. He closes his eyes slowly, using that memory to fuel his much-needed mental images.

You’re beneath him once again, but you’re naked. His hand is wrapped around your throat, and he’s naked too. His cock is slowly driving in and out of you. He’s teasing you. Your pulsating, wet walls hug his fat cock, and you’re both moaning softly.

“Daddy…” you whisper to him, clenching around his cock. “What’s wrong, baby?” he softly asks you. “Please fuck me harder, please, Daddy,” you beg to him, before biting down onto your bottom lip. “I don’t think you’ll be able to take my cock like that, baby,” he shakes his head.

“I can take it, Daddy, I’m your good girl.”

Chris opens his eyes and his right hand has found its way down his boxers. His cock is all swollen and hard, hard as a rock. He places the bottle of gin down on the bedside table and gets himself all comfortable. Chris slowly begins to stroke himself gently. He goes from the base all the way to the top, and then back down. His thumb occasionally swipes against his leaking tip and all he can think of is teaching you how to make him — your Daddy — feel good.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans, feeling a vein throat against his hand. He moans your name and speeds up his movements. His fingers are slightly sticky, but it’s the type of sticky he doesn’t mind. He begins to slow his hand down, and he sighs, not wanting to come just yet. He hasn’t been this hard in ages, and touching himself feels so fucking good.

“Did you say my name? Is everything alright?” you ask, barging into his room. He jumps and his hand flies out of his pants. You both stare at each other, not even daring to blink. You eventually break eye contact and notice the bottle of gin sitting on the bedside table. There’s only a sixth of it left, and you frown. You don’t like it when people you care about drink. “Uhm…” he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck and then takes in your form.

You’re in a nightgown, and it’s sheer as fuck. The gin gets to him and his mind has a slight buzz to it. His heart beats rapidly and his cock throbs with want and need. Chris’s eyes rake up and down your body like how they usually do whenever you’re in front of him. His mother would scold him for ogling at you, but he just doesn’t care anymore.

“I- I am so so so sorry, I should’ve knocked. I just thought you needed help with something because I heard you say my name, but sometimes I just tend to hear random things, so sorry,” you apologize in a panicking manner. You slowly walk back to the door, but you don’t turn around. Your bare feet leave a faint imprint on the floor from the cold sweats that have taken over your body.

“Come back here,” he orders, sitting up on the bed. Chris’s unbuckled belt clanks quietly, and he begins to remove it in one quick motion. You gulp thickly and exhale shakily. You slowly walk to where Chris is sitting, and he pats the spot next to him. You’ve never had such an interaction with anyone, ever. You sit down next to him, but you keep your distance.

Alcohol should not be called alcohol in Chris’s utmost humble opinion. No, it should just stick to its nickname ‘liquid courage’ because it’s more accurate than anything else. He may not seem like it, but he’s just a man who doesn’t have the heart to do much. Adrenaline doesn’t exist for him anymore, not since the incident.

Chris turns his head and stares at your pretty face. You look down, unable to make eye contact with such a God-like man. You have to assume that even Apollo is envious of Chris’s beauty. “How’d you hear me? Because I know these walls aren’t thin enough, and I know I wasn’t being loud, so tell me; How’d you hear me?” he interrogates you like one of Silas’s companions, but this time is slightly different.

Lust is what’s pumping through his veins, not rage.

“Uhm, well… My room was right there, and I wasn’t doing anything but thinking, and since your bed is against the wall, I- I heard you say my name,” you explain shyly. He hums, and you’re not sure whether it’s a hum of delight or disbelief. “Thinking of what?” he presses, inching his body closer to yours.

You continue to stare at his hand, even though you can feel his heavy breathing against your face. “I… Well- I was uh,” you stutter embarrassingly, and it makes you burn up with shame. “Spit it out, little girl, and don’t think of lying to me,” he growls, placing his hand on your thigh. Your gaze follows his movements, and you take in the set of rings that adorn his fingers.

They’re all black and of similar styles. One has a skull, one is completely plain, one has a cross on it and the last one has the word ‘Daddy’ engraved on it. His veins are so prominent. They bulge out with intensity, and you’d just love to trail your fingers along each of them. “Am I going to have to force an answer out of you?” he roughly asks. His other hand goes to the back of your head and he brings your gaze to his face.  

You quickly shake your head in objection, and he raises his eyebrows for you to spit your answer out. “I was thinking about you, and the way you tackled me…” you admit to him in a low and soft voice. “You liked the way I was on you, little girl?” he asks, moving his hand to the back of your neck. “Y- Yeah, made me feel all… Tingly…” you whisper to him.

“I want to hear you say it, little girl,” Chris ushers, squeezing the back of your neck slightly. “I liked the way you were on top of me…” you tell him breathlessly. “Good girl,” he praises in a slightly deep voice. He pulls you onto his lap and you gasp. His hard, wanting cock is right under your thighs, and you exhale nervously.

“You feel that, little girl? That’s all because of you, you did this to me. And you’re proud of it, aren’t you? Got me so fucking hard just because of you.” Chris squeezes your waist, and you really can feel it all. He’s not wrong, either. You’re so proud that you’ve made a man like him so desperate for you. “Do you know what I was doing, little girl? I was jerking off to the thought of fucking that cunny of yours until you’re begging me to stop,” he growls in your ear.

You moan softly, and the picture comes to mind, making your pussy gush with want. “Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he asks, placing his hand on your inner thigh. You nod, and he raises his eyebrows in warning again. “Yeah, I want that so bad,” you murmur to him. You and your pussy want him so bad. Chris’s hand inches further up your thighs until he’s just an inch away from your bare pussy.

Your thighs are already slightly sticky from your arousal. “Do you know what jerking off is, little girl?” he asks, pulling his hand away from your pussy. You hold back a pathetic, child-like whine, and he begins to lift up your nightgown until he sees your naked body. “Kind of… Isn’t that when a man touches himself? Like how women touch their… down there?” you innocently ask him.

Chris chuckles at how cute you are. So innocent yet oh so slutty. “Have you ever touched yourself, little girl?” he asks, lifting the nightgown over your head. It’s strewn across the floor behind you, and neither of you cares. But you quickly use your hands to cover your most precious, most private parts. “No, no, I don’t want to see any of that. You’re so beautiful, baby, you’re built like an absolute angel,” he husks, and you feel so flustered that you can’t help but giggle.

“T- Thank you… And I’ve done it a few times,” you inform him. Chris nods and smirks, catching the way your nipples have pebbled up. “Have you ever made someone feel good before?” he questions, trailing his broad hands up and down your body. “N- No, it’s pretty lonely up here…” you almost-ashamedly admit. He coos at you. “Do you want me to teach you how to make me feel good, little girl?” he questions, palming your tits.

You moan softly and rub your thighs together as he pinches and pulls at your hard nipples. You’re so small in his large hands, it makes him even harder. You nod your head fervently, wanting to make Chris feel so fucking good. Chris takes his hands away from your body and shifts you in his lap. He reaches down his pants and pulls his cock out of his boxers.

You gasp, having never seen something as big as that. He smirks and uses his right hand to grasp the base of his thick cock. Chris brings your dominant hand down to where his cock is and guides you to wrap your fingers around him. Chris shudders at your soft touch, and he moans softly. “Good girl, yeah,” he praises. “Wrap your hand around me a bit tighter, baby,” he urges, and you do exactly that.

He groans loudly and a small smile stretches across your lips. “N- Now, you’ve got to move your hand up and down. Start off slowly, go all the way to the tip, and then back down,” he instructs, even though he’s helping you out. His hand brings yours all the way to the tip, and then back down; just like he said. His hand leaves yours and goes back to feeling up your pretty body.

“Now do it by yourself, but in a twisting motion, little girl.”

You listen to his words and jerk him off, feeling yourself get wet as his cock twitches in your hand. Your clit throbs and so do the veins on the side of his shaft. Chris curses, and you bite down on your bottom lip. “Good girl, just like that. Fuck, your hand feels so good around me,” he moans, squeezing your waist. You focus on his cock, watching as pre-cum leaks from the tip and down the side of his dick.

It drips onto your slow-moving hand, and you exhale as your movements grow a bit faster. You look at him, watching as his pupils darken with lust. You can tell — it’s written on his face — he wants you to go faster. Your hand speeds up around his cock, making him a moaning mess. “Fuck, you’re such a good fucking girl. You like making me feel good, don’t you? So eager to please like the good little girl you are,” Chris husks.

His praise goes straight to your needy cunt and he knows this because he can just tell. Your thighs rub together, your breath hitches, you let out a giggle and squeeze a little tighter around his cock. Chris’s hand goes up to your head and smashes your lips against his. You both moan into the kiss, and you straddle both his thighs to get more comfortable.

You place your other hand on his cock and mimic your dominant hand’s movements. You try to keep up with the kiss, but you just can’t. Teeth clash and so do tongues as Chris moves his mouth against yours. He pants and his chest heaves as you continue to stroke him. “Go faster, baby,” he urges, and he pulls his mouth away from yours. He can feel you soaking his jeans, your wetness joining the abundant amount of rips and tears in the material.

Your hand moves faster, twisting perfectly and occasionally squeezing his most sensitive spots as well. Chris pushes your hands away abruptly, and you’re confused. Did you do something wrong? Does he not like you anymore? What happened? “Shit, wrap your mouth around the tip, little girl. Trust me, you’re gonna fucking love it,” he says, and you quickly do so.

You’ll do anything to please him. His mushroom tip is leaking and a raging red. It’s the same red as the rest of his cock, and you could swear it’s almost purplish. You can tell he’s aching because you’ve been through a similar thing. You drop down to the floor and kneel in front of Chris. Your lips smooth around the tip of his hard cock, and you can taste him as soon as he hits your tongue.

He tastes of musk and manliness, along with a hint of saltiness, and it’s oh so addicting. You keep the tip of his cock in your mouth like it’s one of your favourite lollipops and smile around him. Chris smiles and wraps his hand around himself. He jerks himself off quickly, desperate to come in your mouth. “Fucking shit– god, you’re such a good fucking girl,” Chris rasps as he reaches his climax.,

His balls tighten up and his blue eyes roll back into his skull. White, hot, thick ropes of cum shoot out of his tip and fill your mouth. You’re not sure why, but a moan escapes past your throat, and it only makes Chris’s high much better. Chris places both hands on the sides of your head and holds you there, gently. You swallow all his cum as it fills your mouth and leaks from the corners of your lips.

Chris so desperately wants to push your head farther down his cock, but he knows he shouldn’t. Plus, there’s always going to be more time for things like that. He pulls your head away from his cock and watches as a string of saliva tries to keep the two of you connected. You gently lick your lips, still savouring his taste and he smiles down at you. You can’t lie — you feel giddy. Giddy in a way in which you crave his praise and approval like no other.

“You’re such a good girl, you know that? Thank you for helping me out… I do suppose I should return the favour, right?” he teasingly says, lifting you up into his lap. You shake your head out of nervousness. “No? … Why not, baby?” Chris asks, and you gulp thickly. “Don’t wanna rush it… I- never mind, you wouldn’t understand,” you look down and fiddle with your fingers.

The grooves of your nails are smoothed over by your pointer finger. Some dips and rises make you cringe, and others satisfy you. He looks down at your hands and notices the skin picked on the sides. He knows how painful those can be, and he doesn’t want you to feel any pain at all. “I’ll try to understand, darling, but if you don’t tell me, then I’ll be completely clueless,” he speaks to you lowly. “I like the way your words make me feel…” you shyly admit to him.

“Aw, how do they make you feel, baby?” Chris presses, grasping your two hands together. “All warm and small… makes me feel like I have it all. Hey, that rhymes!” you exclaim, bubbling in the utmost adorable giggles ever. “You’re a natural poet, darling. But tell me more…” he urges, rubbing his coarse thumbs against your soft skin. “I get butterflies, and I feel all shy and safe. Your words make me so comfortable yet so vulnerable…” you describe to him even though words can’t describe what you feel.

“Is that right, baby? You’re so cute… Do you- Do you get all tingly and babyish when I use my words?” Chris hesitatingly asks. His voice is so gentle and soft, a low whisper that is so soothing to your ears and rough edges. You nod meekly and smile to yourself. Your cheeks may hurt from all the laughter he caused earlier today but that doesn’t refrain you from hiding your smile.

Now, Chris is no doctor. He’s no professional, he’s no master. He’s just a broken man, but he knows exactly what you’re talking about. But he won’t explain what it is, because he needs you to learn on your own. Maybe with some guidance from him, but he won’t trick you into thinking something completely off base.

“Let’s get cleaned up, okay? Then we’ll sleep, you need the rest. We both do.”

He’s got your name on his tattoo, wearing the same damn clothes since three days ago. A bottle of gin in his hand, and you’d say he’s just wandering. But he isn’t. He was never. The stick-and-poke tattoo may seem a bit much, but he doesn’t regret it one bit. Your name is written in your pretty handwriting. The ink is in his skin, and he’s practically marked as yours, now.

The days go by slower, much slower than he’d like them to. But it doesn’t matter now, because his mission is over, and he’ll be leaving soon. But Chris doesn’t want to leave. His wanderlust has found an end as he finally has a place where he’s meant to be. He’s found heaven in the hills, and between your legs.

“D- Daddy…” you whisper under your breath, loud enough for him to hear. Your hands are locked with his, and they rest at your sides. You’re just in a small bralette, and your hard nipples poke through the fabric. Your legs are thrown over his shoulders and your ankles lace together behind his head. Your neck aches from the angle your body is in, but the pleasure blooming from your core is much more powerful.

Chris is between your legs, and he hums against your wet, throbbing pussy. You moan loudly and squeeze your eyes shut from the feeling. He sucks on your clit harshly, and wetness seeps from your hole. “Feels so good… Oh, my…” you pant. Your hips gyrate and you subconsciously grind your wet cunt against Chris’s face. He pulls his face away from your pussy and licks a broad stripe against you.

You moan again and squeeze his hands tighter. His tongue swirls around your swollen and throbbing clit, bringing you closer and closer to your release. Your taste is addictive, and he could stay between your legs for hours on end, if not for eternities. His beautiful, lovely rings dig into the sides of your fingers, but you don’t care. Chris may treat you like a delicate doll, but he should know how much you love it when he’s rough with you.

“I think I’m gonna come, Daddy…” you cry out to him before a strangled moan leaves your mouth. Chris pulls away from your pussy once again, but this time he spits on your lips. His saliva drops down your cunt and mixes with your wetness, and he goes back to devouring you. He eats you out like a starved man, and you’re squealing at the overwhelming pleasure.

If he was on death row, he’d have your sweet pussy as his last meal.

His tongue works over your clit and brings you closer and closer to your release. It’s coming fast. A searing, heated feeling takes over your body and abdomen as your back arches off your couch. Chris is as hard as a rock, staring you directly in the eyes, and he makes you come on his mouth.

“Oh- Daddy!” you cry out loudly, your mouth falling open into a silent, voiceless scream. Your eyes roll back into your skull and in Chris’s past words, you look like a brain-dead slut. Your wetness gushes out of your drooling hole, and he laps it all up with no problem. He drinks up everything you give him, and then some. Your hands are still laced with his and your chest rises and falls at a fast pace.

“Shh… You did amazing, little one. Taste so fucking sweet, just like nectar,” he hums like a hummingbird, before smacking his lips. You slowly come down from your high as he strokes your hands with his thumbs. Your lids are slightly heavy, but you don’t want to get any shut-eye. Time away from Chris is practically a sin in your eyes. “Thank you, Daddy,” you gratefully reply.

“You’re welcome, little one. Got me so hard,” he husks as he moves to get up. He carefully handles your body and pulls out a handkerchief from the pocket of his jeans. They’ve been washed and scrubbed but there are still faint dandelion and pollen stains that he just doesn’t care enough about. Though the adorable face you were making whilst washing them is something that’ll never leave his mind.

Just like the mental image of you coming undone beneath him.

“Can I make you feel good, Daddy? Pretty please?” you ask sweetly and Chris knows he could say yes, but he doesn’t want to. Making you feel good pleases him, but he doesn’t want to sound so poetic so he chuckles. “Soon, little one, I need to clean you up properly,” he tells you and you jut your bottom lip out, pouting. He coos at you and you scrunch your nose up at the attention.

“But I’m all clean, Daddy!” you reason, reaching over to palm his hard cock through his jeans. Chris chokes on his saliva at the feeling of your touch. “In a bit, little one, you need to listen to Daddy. Okay?” he rasps with a warning in his voice. “Okay, Dada…” you trail off with a deep sigh punctuating your sentence. You fiddle with your fingers as Chris carefully cleans up your pussy.

The damp washcloth is gentle against your sensitive skin. Each movement of his is carried by gentleness and love. “I have a question, Daddy,” you hum after a few seconds of silence. “Go ahead, mushy one,” he says with a smile. You giggle at the nickname before calming yourself down. “Were you really wandering?” you bluntly ask him. Chris’s eyes nearly fall out of their sockets, and you gasp.

“What do you mean, little one?” he asks, looking up at you. “Well… You said you were a wanderer! And that’s how you found me! But you don’t seem like a wanderer, you’re too clever to be one,” you explain with a smile on your face. Chris begins to chew on the inside of his cheek, and the skin has already been filled with bite marks and scars. At this point, he should tell you, right? You already know the deepest, most darkest pieces and part of him.

You’ll love him no matter what.

“Well, I wasn’t wandering. You’re so smart, little one. The smartest baby in the world!” he cheers and moves to get up. He sits in the empty spot next to you and lifts you into his lap. You’re still naked and Chris has his shirt off (as usual), so the skin-on-skin contact has you feeling even sleepier. “Sometimes, we lie to protect people. I lied, to protect you, along with many other people. Myself included, of course,” he starts.

“I was sent here with the sole purpose of bringing in your criminal neighbour,” he pauses “and I did.” You nod along with his words, your mind only allowing the most important phrases to sink in. “I arrested him around a month ago, and I was supposed to leave three weeks ago,” he sadly sighs. You look up in a panic, and you’re in shock. “Two weeks ago, I turned in my resignation. I’m not going anywhere,” he quickly adds and your face lights up.

“I’m staying with my best girl, okay?” Chris smiles and leans in to kiss you. You let him do so because God-damn, you’d let him do anything he wants to you. “T- Thank you so much, Daddy!” you squeal and hug him tightly. He laughs in a beautiful cacophony of sounds, and it’s right in your ear.

Chris feels a weight being lifted off his shoulders as you writhe around in his arms. You wiggle around on his hard cock and Chris suppresses a groan. His hands trail from your shoulders to your waist, down to your hips. Goosebumps erupt on your skin and excitement runs in your veins at his touch. Your head rolls back and you exhale shakily. He grips your hips tightly, and you involuntarily buck your hips against his crotch.

Both you and Chris moan before he moves both his hands to your ass. He gropes you roughly, feeling a bit of your wetness on his fingers. “Oh, baby… What’s all that for? Hm? Didn’t Daddy just eat your sweet little pussy out?” he asks in a slightly worried tone. “Y- Yeah… But I can’t help it, Daddy, you always make me so tingly…” you admit to him, shyly.

“Mmm, I like knowing I do this to you. Gets me so fucking hard,” he groans, slapping your ass. You yelp in surprise, but it gets cut off by a whimper. Chris caresses the hit skin and soothes you down from the shock. He smiles at you and then lands another hit. Then another, and then another.

The sting is addictive, just like he is. It leaves you writhing in both pain and pleasure and yet you still want more. “M- more, please,” you quietly beg and Chris coos at you as if you're a pet. And the truth isn’t far off. The coolness of his rings is both brutal and comforting. It soothes you yet acts as if they didn’t just hurt you. “You want more, baby?” he asks in that sweet yet sultry condescending tone of his.

You nod your head and chew on your bottom lip. “‘S too bad you’re gonna have to take what I give you and keep quiet, baby,” he husks, and you whine loudly. Chris flips your bodies around and suddenly you’re on your back, and he’s leaning over you. He locks lips with you and you try your hardest to keep up with the kiss.

His lips move sloppily against yours, but you don’t mind because you’ll take anything he gives you. You moan into true kiss and Chris wedges his knee between your legs. You’d hump him like a bunny because that’s what the demon on your shoulder is telling you to do. But the last time you did something without his permission, you weren’t allowed to make him come for a week.

You just know you’re soaking his jeans but neither of you cares. Chris kisses the corner of your mouth and trails down to your neck, peppering kisses behind as if he’s leaving a trail on your body for when he’s going to explore you later. The stubble on his cheeks and jaw tickles you and Chris falls even more in love with you as your laughter fills the air.

“D- Dada…” you whisper to him as you tilt your head back. His lips land on that sweet spot of yours and your back arches off the couch. Chris smiles against your skin and begins to suck on that sweet spot. Your breath hitches as he bites, licks and sucks on your skin. He marks you up like no other, and you know how much he loves to know that you’re all his.

“Dada… No teasing, please,” you sweetly ask in your soft tone. And how can he turn you down? “In a bit, little girl, be patient for Daddy.” Chris continues to mark you up until he’s satisfied. The feeling of his teeth against your neck and collar bones makes you even wetter than you already are. Possessiveness is carried in his movements, and it only drives you to be needier.

Chris moves further down from your collar bones to the valley of your breasts. Each curve of yours makes him want to sin without any repentance afterwards. He places a kiss there and then looks up at you. “Please, Daddy,” you whisper so quietly it takes him a few seconds to realize what you’ve said. Chris’s hand wraps around your body to your back.

He slowly unclasps your bralette and drags it away from your body at the same pace. You both maintain eye contact all whilst he undresses you to your vulnerability. Chris throws your bra somewhere behind him and places his hands on your body. “Aw, baby… You’re so cute and small,” he sweetly says in an almost shocking manner. Almost as if he doesn't use the size difference as a weapon to make you all soft and mushy.

“Hm, thank you, Daddy,” you tell him because good girls always have manners. “So good, using your manners for Daddy,” he praises, and you wonder if he can read your mind. Your Daddy can do anything, so it would be no surprise if he can. Chris sits upon his knees, but he remains in his towering position. Gently, and with care, he spreads your legs open until he’s satisfied.

He watches as you clench your needy pussy. He just knows your clit is throbbing, and you’re tingly because he just has that effect on you. “Poor baby… Is this all for Daddy?” he asks, and you quickly nod. “Say it, tell me it’s all because of me,” he growls placing his hands on your thighs. Chris slowly moves his hands further down your thighs. His touch is gentle, and he can feel the goosebumps on your thighs beginning to raise.

“‘S all yours, daddy. It’s all because of you,” you tell him breathlessly. “And this pussy is all mine, isn’t it, little girl?” he asks, inching closer to your wet pussy. “Mhm, only yours, Daddy!” you happily assure him, and he smirks at you. “That’s right, little girl. And since it’s all mine, doesn’t that mean I can do whatever I want with it?” he questions, and you nod with no hesitance at all.

Chris traces your wet pussy with his ring-donned pointer finger. “Oh my…” you gasp at the feeling. It may not be much, but your sensitive little pussy struggles to handle it. You clench around nothing again, and he watches, before chuckling at you. “Such a pretty pussy you have, baby, I can’t fucking wait to ruin it,” Chris growls, and you whimper. “Gonna fill you up with my cum after I fuck you, little girl,” he promises, and you never wanted to be fucked so badly until now.

He wonders if his cock could even fit inside you. Usually, he’d want to eat you out and finger you to prepare you. But he’s now thinking with what’s between his legs, and not what’s between his ears. He trails that same pointer finger on your pussy, and becomes mesmerized with the sight. Chris watches as your hole drools with want and need, whilst you watch him.

His already dark eyes are blown out with lust, and it only turns you on even more. Chris knows you’re watching him. He’s not one of the best agents in the FBI for no reason. He looks up at you, and you lock eyes with each other. He smirks and pulls his hand away from your pussy. You hold back a whine, but you still pout in disappointment. Chris begins to unbuckle his pants, and you’re filled with eagerness.

You smile widely, and he coos. “Aw, you’re such a desperate little slut, it’s adorable,” he chuckles, and you shy away. He pulls down his jeans along with his boxers slowly. Chris takes off his jeans and boxers completely, and throws them somewhere around the house. You watch as his cock bounces up and leaks with pre-cum. You just know he’s aching because of how red his cock is.

He’s big, and you already know that. But seeing him in all his naked glory is just something else. The simple yet not so simple idea of Chris’s cock being inside of you is electrifying. It’s both terrifying and exciting. He grabs the base of his cock and the prickly hair pokes the soft skin of his hands, but he doesn’t care. His left hand goes back to your pussy, and begins to rub circles on your clit.

“Oh… Daddy,” you moan quietly. The pleasure is almost overwhelming, so you involuntarily try to shut your legs and keep Chris out. Your knees touch for a brief moment, and he’s having none of that. He separates your legs and climbs on top of you, all while staring you directly in the eyes. His cock drags against your inner thigh. “Oh, is it too much for you, little one?” he asks with faux pity in his tone. You nod and clench your fists to control yourself.

“Too fucking bad, you’re gonna take whatever I give you, and you’re not gonna complain. Isn’t that right, little girl?” he sneers, and you gasp. Usually, you can’t handle someone who raises their voice in the slightest. But hearing Chris do it makes the butterflies in your stomach fly. “Yes, Daddy,” you hum delightfully, and he smiles. “Good girl,” he praises. Chris presses harder on your sensitive pearl of nerves and rubs you in faster circles.

“Daddy…” You moan and it goes straight to his cock. He looks up at you and just knows you’re beginning to drive up that cliff. He slows down his ministrations on your nub, and you bite back a loud whine. “You’re so needy, baby… Already so close to coming, it’s kind of pathetic…” he trails off and more wetness leaks out of you. You’re absolutely soaked and are a little bit ashamed of it.

“Please, Daddy! I’m so close, I’ll do anything,” you beg, but he just doesn’t buy it. “You’ll already do anything I tell you, baby, begging is so useless,” Chris chortles. You let out a small huff and move your hips in a circle, grinding against his thumb. In a flash of blurry moments, Chris pulls his hand away from your pussy and wraps around your neck. He squeezes the sides of your throat, and you gasp quite loudly.

He raises his eyebrow in warning, and you nod in understanding. “Good girl, I don’t want to put you over my knee when I’m feeling so gracious,” he assures, and you smile. Chris brings the tip of his cock to your swollen, needy clit and his pre-cum begins to mix with your wetness. You both moan softly as he rubs his tip on your clit. Your bottom lip finds a home between your teeth and Chris’s tongue swipes over his.

The sight and feeling of his cock on your silky pussy make him so weak in the knees. “Fuck, baby, do you like that? You like it when Daddy makes you feel good with his cock?” Chris asks in a deep, gravelly voice. “Yeah, Daddy… love it so much…” you tell him through a mushy haze of pleasure.

“You’re getting all dumb and stupid already? You’re so cute, little one,” he purrs, and you giggle at his words even though there’s nothing funny about them. “Do you want my cock, little baby? Say it, tell Daddy you want his cock,” he urges, and you look down to where you’re both nearly connected.

“I wan’ your cock, Daddy. Want it so bad, I need it, Daddy,” you beg, and Chris hums. “Just a little more, little girl, it’s like music to my ears,” he smirks, and you bite your bottom lip. “Sing for me, hummingbird,” he pushes, and you just go with whatever your neediness tells you to do.

“I wanna feel your cock deep inside me, Daddy. I want your cum to fill me up until I’m leaking and all stupid. Please, Daddy, please fuck me. I really want your cock, I need it,” you beg and blood rushes to his face and cock. “Fuck, yeah, I’ll give you my fucking cock, and you better take it like the good girl you are,” he growls, and you whimper. Chris slowly drags the fat tip of his shaft down to your drooling, slutty hole.

You whimper loudly, and he looks back at you. Fear is written all over that pretty face of yours, and Chris knows the exact reason why. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll be gentle, okay? If you want to stop just say so, and I’ll listen. I won’t hurt you, darling. I promise,” he gently reassures you. You sigh with an almost heavy yet full heart.

You then nod and Chris thanks you for allowing him to fully make you his. “Wanna hold your hand, Dada… Please,” you ask pleasantly, and he nods. “In a bit, little girl, I just need to be careful,” he whispers. Chris slowly begins to push into your wet, tight cunt. You swallow him slowly, and the sight is mesmerizing.

The tightness of your cunt squeezes him in a strong hug, and he wishes he could be buried deep inside you for the rest of his life. “Fuck- Baby, you feeling so fucking good,” he moans while trying to compose himself. You’re still whimpering from the pain, and your chest is rising and falling at a fast pace.

“C- Can I push all the way in, little one? It’ll only hurt for a bit,” he asks, and he looks deep into your eyes. “Mhm… Wanna feel your cock deep inside me, Daddy, please,” you beg, and Chris tries his hardest not to come right here, right now. He thrusts his hips forward, and bottoms out inside you completely.

Your mouth falls open, and you’re silently screaming. The pain isn’t too much, but you feel as though the wind is being knocked out of you. Chris shifts a bit, and that’s when you start to feel it more. He’s so deep inside you, and he’s splitting you in two. “Breathe, baby, breathe,” he says.

You realize you’re holding your breath and it’s no wonder why your heart was beating out of your chest. “You’re doing so- so well, darling. Your little cunny looks so nice when it’s stuffed full with my cock,” he groans, and you whimper. “Dada, is hurtin’...” you whisper, and Chris wants to pull out because he can’t stand the thought of his little girl being hurt.

“Do you want me to stop, little one?” he asks, but you quickly shake your head in objection. Even though the pressure in your core is dwindling, and even though you feel a little too full, you don’t want him to stop. “No stopping, Daddy, please,” you whine and flail your arms towards him. He shushes you soothingly, and you calm down as soon as he flashes a stern look.

The pain soon burns away into nothing but dust and ash, and you finally see why he was so desperate to shove his cock inside of your cunt. It turns into pleasure and your pussy leaks around him. You’re soaking Chris’s cock with no shame at all. “Oh, fuck, baby… You feel so fucking good,” he moans, and you follow with a gasp. “I like the way y- you feel inside me, Daddy, makes me all tingly…” you admit shyly, and Chris chuckles.

“Yeah? Bet it makes you want to be fucked stupid, right, baby?” he questions with a playful smirk on his face. “Yes, Daddy,” you moan. You’re never aware of your surroundings because you’re too caught up in the moments. It’s something Chris scolds you for, but you never learn. But in this moment, you can feel everything. The veins on his cock throb against your silky walls, and you can feel his balls against your ass. His hot breath fans over you as Chris struggles to compose himself.

He slowly drags his hips backwards, pulling out of your pussy until his tip is the only thing in your cunt. The sudden almost-emptiness is surprising, but you quickly get used to it. Chris then pushes back into your pussy, and you moan loudly. “Fucking hell, little one,” he curses under his breath as he bottoms out again. He begins to fuck into you slowly and gently, careful to not hurt you. Even if he wants to fuck you until you’re crying.

The sound of skin on skin is quiet and almost unintelligible. The squelching sounds from your wet pussy and moans fill the room. Chris gently grips your hips and watches as your face contorts into a frown of pleasure and not pain. “Daddy…” you pant softly as you look up at Chris. “Yeah, baby? Am I hurting you?” he asks out of worry. “N-No, it feels so good…” you trail off as one particular thrust lands near your g-spot. And he knows that.

“Wan’ you to fuck me hard, wan’ you to destroy me, Daddy. Please fuck me like the slut I am…” you gently beg and Chris halts his thrusts. His cock twitches inside of you because of your words. Only he can corrupt an innocent angel such as yourself. “Shit- Little one, I don’t want to hurt you, that’s why I’m being so gentle,” Chris explains, but you shake your head. “You could never hurt me, Daddy. Please, I need you,” you beg for one last time, unaware of what you’ve done to him.

Chris roughly pushes his cock back into your cunt without warning. “Awe, I see. My little princess wants to be fucked like the whore she is, hm? Well, whatever princess wants, she gets,” he growls because beginning to fuck you roughly. You moan loudly at the feeling as with each thrust, his cock pummels against your sweet spot roughly. His pelvic bone rubs against your swollen clit and his grip on your hips tightens.

“Daddy!” you cry out as Chris pounds into your poor pussy. The room fills with moans, groans, curse words and wet sounds that all come from the art you two are making. “Aw, what’s wrong, little girl? Can’t take daddy’s cock anymore? Hm? Well, I don’t really give a fuck, you’re just gonna lie there, and take what I give you like a good fucking girl,” he sneers, and you push at his chest.

“It’s so sensitive!” you wail like a little bitch in heat. “But I bet you don’t want me to stop, do you?” Chris asks as a moan bleeds past his plump lips. “Uh-uh, please don’t stop, Daddy!” you squeal after a harsh thrust. The stretch of Chris’s cock is amazing, and you never want the feeling to stop. Chris’s hand leaves your hip and crawls all the way up to your neck. He wraps his fingers around your throat, and squeezes the sides, making you clench tightly around his big, thick cock.

He lowers his face to yours and watches as you react to the way he’s being rough with you. “Oh, God!” you cry out as he makes his thrusts more powerful. “Actually, it’s just ‘Daddy’, but I’m fine with that too,” he slyly smirks. You’re too fucked out to even laugh at his joke. Your eyes roll back into your skull and your back begins to arch off of the couch.  “Awe, are you gonna come around my big fat cock already, slut? How cute,” Chris mocks.

You nod your head and begin babbling like a baby. “But remember, little girl, I have to give you permission to come, okay?” he reminds you, and you whine. Chris’s hand around your throat moves up to grab your jaw, and he stops thrusting into you. “None of that is allowed. Don’t forget your place, little girl,” Chris warns with fury seething through his words. You mumble an apology, trying to formulate the proper words to speak.

“Seems like I really did fuck you stupid,” he chuckles, and you moan at his words. You clamp down on his cock, tempting him to do what you want, like a siren using her voice to lure men into the sea. “Open your mouth up first, little girl,” he orders, and you obediently listen. The searing arousal in your core begins to fade away, and you feel a panic beginning to rise inside you.

Chris drags his hand back down to your throat and rests it there. You watch as he puckers his lips up, and suddenly, he spits into your mouth. You open your mouth even wider and stretch your tongue out. His saliva lands directly on your tongue, and you wait for further instructions before you give in to your desires.

“Swallow it, little girl,” he instructs, and you do exactly so. You open your mouth back up just to earn some praise. “Good fucking girl. The best baby ever,” he smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Thank you, Daddy! … Can I have cummies now?” you lovingly ask your Daddy.

“Of course, little one,” he says as he smiles down at you. Chris begins to fuck into you again, deep and hard. With each thrust, he pounds your g-spot and his balls slap against your ass. His remaining hand on your hip moves down to your clit, rubbing your little button with rough circles.

“Daddy… ‘m gonna come!” you moan loudly and Chris fucks you harder. “Come one, baby, come all over my big cock like the good girl you are,” he urges. The building feeling inside you increases, and you feel yourself getting closer to your release. “Fucking come, little girl, wanna hear you sing for me,” he growls. And with one specific thrust, you find yourself coming undone beneath him.

The sight is so fucking beautiful. Watching you as your eyes turn up, your mouth falls open and your cunt hugging his cock just gets him going, and he wishes he could take a picture of you right now. “D- Daddy! Oh, my-” You cut yourself off with a loud moan and Chris keeps on rubbing your clit and fucking you through your orgasm.

You soak his cock until it’s dripping and even then you’re still coming. You moan loudly and Chris can feel himself getting closer to his orgasm. His balls begin to tighten up and a droplet of sweat drips from his neck down to his chest. “Daddy, are you gonna come?” you sweetly ask as he fucks you through your orgasm whilst chasing his own.

“Yeah, baby, Daddy’s gonna fill you up with his cum. I’m gonna leave you leaking with my seed,” Chris growls as he fucks you faster. “Please, Daddy… Please, I want your cum so badly! Please fill me up with your cum, Daddy,” you beg and Chris tosses his head back.

“Fuck, yes, yes yes,” he shouts as his balls tighten up again. He quickens his pace until white, hot, thick ropes of cum spurts out from his aching tip. He fulfills his promise and your wish, filling you up with his cum until there’s nothing left. His cum mixes with your juices as he paints your walls with no expertise whatsoever. Chris slumps on top of your body, engulfing you in a bear hug as his cock remains buried inside of you.

You’re both panting and struggling to come down from the euphoric feelings. You look up at Chris make lock eyes with him for the nth time. There’ll never be a day where you don’t get lost in his eyes. They’re beautiful, absolutely beautiful. “You did so fucking good, little one,” he praises, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“Thank you very, very much, Daddy,” you slur, feeling yourself beginning to sleep into little space. “Daddy?” you call out, tapping his bicep after a few seconds. “Yeah, baby?” he asks, lifting himself up to get a better view of your face. “Will you really stay?” you ask with a bit of worry in your voice. He sighs with a full heart.

“Always.”

[kookiecrumb]

jjk|| Your Head

"tags": @kazthebrekkerofinej

word count: uhhhh

summary: Jungkook is the heir to the throne of your Kingdom! In this tale of duty versus heart, will love prevail victorious?

tags: Royalty!Jungkook x Peasant!Reader, oneshot, smut, fluff, slight angst, some crack, pining, forbidden lovers, Jungkookie has a sweet tooth, strangers to friends to lovers

warnings: explicit language, impact play, birthday sex (technically), fingering, oral (m receiving*), love marking, alcohol consumption, s&m themes, horny grinding, praise kink/body worship

a/n:

hey guys!

Firstly, I want to say how proud I am of myself for growing so much during this fic. I learned a lot about what I'm comfortable with, what I'd like to work on, and where my confidences lie.

I won't lie and say it's been easy, because writing this meant dealing with a lot of my fears? I'm excited for all the works that are to come.

The only thing I can do is be as receptive to growth as possible, so I'm looking forward to learning...

*I actually learned that Vaseline wasn't invented until like the 1870s? The fic is written in the 1810s, so I actually had a choice between having them do it with vegetable oil or spit. Spit won.

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5 years ago

You bend over to pick up an apple that had rolled over under your father's produce cart, praying that it isn't bruised so that you have to pay for it out of your dinner, when a crumpled piece of paper hits you in the ass.

Confused, you crawl out from under the stand and unwrap the paper.

The paper itself is of the finest quality you've ever seen. It's a sturdy cardstock, bleached white with gold etchings on the borders. The print on the top of it reads "His Highness Jeon's Royal Study," and scribbled in some kid's amateur cursive below, "Nice butt."

You directed your gaze upwards, towards the towering castle walls. Sure enough, a boy no older than 15 had his noggin popping out from the top of the rampart, with two wide eyes staring down, curious as to your reaction. This was Prince Jungkook, heir to the throne of your kingdom.

"Shouldn't you be equestrian horse riding or playing polo or something?" You shout. He furrows his eyebrows, apparently offended at your assumption, and then disappears behind the edifice.

Moments later, another paper hits your shoulder as you're practicing your caligraphy behind your cart. It lands between the apples, so you reach your hand over and fish out out.

You glance up at the anticipant, and sure enough he's there with his doe eyes and his coconut head, ogling.

"No, dumbie. That's at MID-day." Well how were YOU supposed to know the royal schedule of the crown prince, it wasn't just common knowlegde you learned from being a humble farmer's daught--

Ah!

"Will you STOP?!" You put your foot down. "Unless you're here to buy my apples, then you're not getting ANY, little Prince." Oh, shit. You gave him ideas. Now it was really over for you.

In less than half an hour, half a company of men arrived at the marketplace, asking about your little old apple stand, and sure enough, Jungkook had bought out the entire cart so that you were forced to help with the transaction.

The young prince had eyes frankly too big for his head, with the most prominent cupid's bow you've ever seen. His nose slightly outgrew his face and his ears were hidden away behind his short, black hair. "Now you can talk to me." He gave you a rose he'd stolen from the royal garden. "I am Jungkook, heir to the throne of--"

"I know who you are." You interrupt him, documenting His Highness' total in your calligraphy book.

With a hand perched on his chest from surprise, he scoffed. "And I happen to think you're really pretty, so I was going to ask you to be my very first consor--"

"You're 15, you have playmates not consorts."

"And how old are you?!" He's had it, raising his voice and taking a bite out of one of your apples with force.

"16, old enough to have suitors." You tease. Jungkook hangs his head a little. He just needed someone to talk to, it would seem. Reluctantly, you scribbled down your address down on a piece of note paper and handed it to him.

"Look, if you buy more of my apples, I'll have an excuse to tell my Dad so I can hang out with you." You spoke in a low voice as to not raise suspicion.

Your dad is standing negotiating with the guards about prices, his usual embarassing haggling gruffly overpowering the guards elegant twiddle-tones.

"Wonderful! See you soon, my sweet!" He resumes his confident demeanor, tucking the paper into his overcoat with a small smile. He salutes you boyishly and marches away with a year's supply of apples.

For the next week, the royal kitchen had baked 3 apple pies, made 5 fruit salads, 4 batches of apple muffins, and threw the rest of them in Sangria; that's the same Sangria as King Jeon finds himself drinking in his wife's drawing room on Sunday.

"Call Chef, fetch him up here." He waves to his assistant, keeping his eyes on the outside. He was deep in thought, his hands stoicly behind his back.

The Kingdom had been prosperous for over many years now, and war had not come close to threatening its borders in a lifetime. Negotiations were always successful, and quality of living was high. The work of a King, in a situation such as this, was to perfect the image of the royal family as strong rulers, and to paint his daughters as desirable to foreign heirs.

"Your Grace," the assistant called his attention, "Head Chef Sung." The dainty man bows and scurries off somewhere else.

Chef Sung is a portly man, who carries himself heaving with every step, his great belly inflating with each hefty inhale. He approaches the King, and kneels down to kiss his hand with his fat lips.

The King recoils in disgust, but quickly collects himself and his words. "Where are these apples from, is it France or Spain?" He demands.

"Neither, Your Highness." Mr.Sung lifts up his eyes. "They are from our Holy Kingdom; by order of Prince Jungkook, an entire cart was purchased of these apples and we have not been able to get rid of them." Tears threatened Chef Sungs eyes at the very mention of the fruit.

'Well, there's one thing the kid's done right.' King Jeon now faces the Chef, setting down his drink on a mahogany table, leaning against it casually. "Well! Good. I'd like to meet the owner of that cart, invite him to my Sunday brunch."

"Oh, yes, of course sir! You'll never see them in our kitchen aga--What?" Chef Sung takes out his handkerchief, waving it around in the air and drying his tears at once. "So you like them! Why...Yes! Yes, of course!"

Your father thought it would be valuable to have you around the kitchen, learning from the skilled men and women employed by the Jeon family. He only visited once a week to drop off fresh produce, (he'd been officially hired to handle restocking of goods) but you, after showing promising signs of being a gifted baker during one of your father's restocks, were granted scholarship by Ms.Kang to be her aid.

You were now, officially, a resident of the Jeon Estate, residing in the servant's quarters, immediately adjacent to the kitchen. This was convenient. It was far too convenient for a certain little Prince to get the idea of wanting a midnight snack and wandering downstairs.

One day, he does just that. He finds his way into the first bedroom to the right of the stairs facing the kitchen, and that happens to be your bedroom.

He pokes you awake. "Ow! Ow, whyyy~" You whine and toss yourself over to the other side of the bed. His irritating poking persists. You grab his fingers and your eyes shatter open.

You sit up, alarmed. "You could have me arrested, what the fuck are you doing?!"

"I wanted a midnight snack! Besides, I wanna talk to you." He pouts, still holding a small teddy companion.

"Fine. I'll bake you ONE sheet of cookies." You slip on your night shoes and shuffle to the kitchen, and Jungkook tags along.

By the time Jungkook's 18th birthday comes around, he's in the kitchen helping you whisk buttercream to top his cake while having a tease at the Austrian Princess' mole.

"You have one right under your lip, look!" You take a little buttercream from the bowl and stain the dark spot with it.

He licks it up and hastens to add, "it needs more sugar, lady!" as he turns to grab a puffy bag of confection sugar.

"You're impossible to please." Snatching the sugar away from him, you smirk. "You can gobble down as many sweets as you want when the ball commences. Remember, this is the year you're supposed to be keeping your eye out for a girl of a good fam--"

"Yada yada, must have hips for childbearing, yada yada yada..." He mocks the speech his mother had told him that morning when he got dressed.

"Exactly." You set your bowl aside to fix Jungkook's tie. "Yes, and that's your duty, as our heir."

You step back and examine Jungkook one more time. He'd grown so tall in the last year, his legs like spider's and he was just beginning to grow into his features. Handsome boy.

You, too, had grown into an elegant young woman. You had a poised complexion, ready-mannered and graceful. Your hands seemed out of place in your otherwise feminine frame, carrying an extra bit of girth from baking. You were 19 years old.

Marriage was becoming an uncomfortably frequent topic during your visits home, as your mother had married young, herself, she expected the same of you.

Truth be told, there were plenty of offers for your hand. You were a skilled and very esteemed individual, who had broken into thr artisinal class. But your father knew better than put a dowry on your happiness. So long as you worked, he saw no reason to marry you off just yet.

"Now, go. Your sisters must be worried sick! Go out there." You shoo him, pushing him out the door of the kitchen despite his flailing arms.

Throughout the party, you'd been carrying a platter of your own baked goods, serving them to the aristocrats attending the Princes' coming-of-age ball. Accents from all over Europe and some from Kingdoms as far East as Cyprus jubilantly engaged in artful conversation which filled the air with good spirits.

Jungkook, himself, was busy being introduced to as many women as possible, a medley of presenting duchesses, ladies, and even Princesses of your Kingdom. They were each more qualified than you'll ever be, ten-fold.

One was a Greek Princess, her hair cascaded in darling curls down her shoulders and her eyes were deep-set, her voice a flirtatious trill.

Another, a Prussian Princess', posture radiated excellency, and whose complexion sparkled like powdered snow. Jungkook greeted her warmly, pleased with her appearance.

Distracted, you tripped up your skirt and dropped the remainder of your pastries. With that, you stepped off to use the restroom.

The sound of Strauss' Rosen aus dem Süden faintly loomed in the air as you wiped tears from your waterline in the mirror. That was just the way it was, wasn't it? Princes come of age, and they find wives who they commit their lives to.

"Married men don't have friends who are girls." You say out loud, just to realize it. Jungkook was now expected to find a mate within the season, and he was, in fact, quite the eligible bachelor.

Little did you know that Jungkook had been keeping an eye out for you throughout the party, not only because you were carrying his favorite Danish pastires, but because he knew your company was his greatest comfort.

He's in the midst of greeting the Duchess of Kent when he excuses himself to go look for you. He finds your mess first, frowning as he realizes something has gone terribly wrong.

He catches you in the hallway, face puffy and shaky. He grabs your wrist to keep you from darting back to the kitchen.

"Please don't do this, it's my birthday, y/n." It's as if an unspoken rule had been broken between you, and he feels it. Something is making you uncomfortable. "Was it the girls? You told me about this, it's my duty to at least greet them and--"

"Yeah, you sure did greet the Prussian woman nicely." You speak through tears. "She's the girl you were born to be with, huh? Your birthright?"Jungkook is silent. "Every girl at that ball wants to be your wife, want to have your children. They haven't known you for a day and yet they're ready to be your bride."

You search Jungkook's eyes for any sign of coherence, hoping that he would defend against you, that he would speak up and tell you otherwise. No such argument comes.

You yank your arm from his grip and march to the kitchen to remake the pastries you spilled.

You had the job of clearing off all the tables upon the departure of the last guests. It is midnight, and the windows of the castle stream moonlight down on the carpet beneath your feet. The glow of candles soothe you as you hum the waltzes which echo in your mind. It's a brilliant evening.

The centerpieces of the tables were gardenias, lush rose-like flowers with yellow pistils.

Summer, 1809

"Jungkook, wait! You're going to make me trip!" You shout from the top of the hill.

"You've gotta come see before the sun sets! It's the only way we'll get there on time, now run!" Jungkook's speeding down the terrain towards the Sycamore tree which grew deep and wide beneath the banks of a great rushing river.

You groan and throw caution to the wind, rolling down the steep mount in your Sunday dress. Jungkook turns to watch you, a grin spreading across his handsome face. "Look at you!"

You land on your feet at the bottom and scurry off to join Jungkook under the grandfather tree, out of breath entirely. "Now, look what you made me do. You're such a boy, you know that?! Making me come out here just to see some bloody--"

Jungkook has plucked a gardenia and placed it behind your ear. "Would you shut up? We got here on time. Behold."

In all its glory, the sun bathes you in its vivacious rays, creating a feeling of heavenly bliss as it dips below the horizon. The sky blushes pink, its clouds mere whisps above you. Wind rustles the leaves of the grand tree, rousing the birds to chirp their afternoon song.

"Mom used to come here all the time with my Dad, because of these." Jungkook clasped the blooming flower in his tender hands.

After a while, he says "the bugs will come out soon, so we ought to go back," as if he's trying not to scare something away. He helps you up, and with one last look across the valley, you walk next to each other back to the East Quarters.

You take all the silverware and plates by the tub to the dish-washing station and toss all of the linen napkins into the washing machine. All you had left was to blow out the lights in leading upstairs.

"Prince! It is very late, and there are no guests left for you to entertain. What troubles you?" Jungkook's sitting on the stairs with his head in his hands, still wearing his best suit.

"I disappointed you, y/n...I didn't like any of them." He admits, lifting his head up to sulk at you. "I should have told you then, but I didn't want to make you upset!"

Did Jungkook mistake your jealousy for disappointment?

"I'm not upset because you didn't hit it off with the girls..." You sigh. A confession is due, and he's ready to hear the truth from you about how you feel about him.

"Well, the truth is, I didn't like any of the girls because I like you, y/n. But you know that, don't you?" You pause, asking him to elaborate.

"Remember when I bought all the apples because I wanted to be with you? Like...I told you that you were my consort and I kind of meant it?" He felt pathetic now, realizing that you weren't just ignoring his advances. "So you didn't friendzone me for 2 years, you actually didn't know that I liked you."

It was almost laughable, a situation you would read in one of your illegal novels which you kept tucked away in your pillow at night. "No, Kookie, I didn't." You admit to your insolence.

You can't bear to lead him on any longer. You needed to put duty over your own self interest for the sake of the kingdom, even if it shattered his hope. It was better this way.

"But, you do know that we can't ever be a thing, right? It's just silly." Your heart tightens with the words which fall out of your mouth. "It is. Nevermind what your parents would think, what would it do for your image? You're on the world's stage, Jungkook, and you're a selfish person if you think you can just throw all of your duties away to date a scum of the Earth like-- like me!" With your heart in your throat, dry your eyes with your sleeve. "And...I want to, I really really want to, more than anything else to love you, Jungkook. I love you! I...can't." Through the blur of your tears, the shapeless blob that Jungkook has become stands up.

Taking his thumb and swiping it under your eyes, he sighs. Words escaping him, he takes your trembling body against his chest and nestles his head in the crook of your neck. Your cold hands travel underneath his overcoat to hold his waist. The Princes' lips plant a gentle kiss on your neck, chaste yet deep and satisfying.

"I will not accept any bride if not you, my love." He draws back, meeting your fervid gaze. "To the world, I remain a bachelor for a few years."

"And after those years, Jungkook?" You ride your hands up to caress the man's jaw. "You will still love me after those years, and then what?"

"I don't know," he says, voice as soft as powder. "I don't know many things, y/n, that's why I need you to teach me." His palms are rubbing at your waist, beckoning you closer.

His breath quickening as you lean your body against his hold, and you figure it must be the wine he drank to calm his nerves. That was it, wasn't it? He was drunk.

"You're not drunk, are you?" Your face sours, really hoping it's not the case as you feel your body temperature rise.

"Y/N, I've only had a glass. You saw I was a wreck back there." His lips kept chasing yours in a dance you can't quite describe. "I have wanted to hold you like this since I saw you selling apples on the street. Give me the honor..." His forehead against yours and his strong hands supporting your back, he's already fucking you with his eyes.

"The pleasure of being your lover." He squeezes your waist tight with his forearms, planting brisk kisses behind your ear and breathing in your scent. He smiles against you. Your skin pebbles at his affectionate touch, purring softly as your eyes roll back in delight.

"Kookie..." You breathe, leaning on his broad chest. "Kook, the maids are wondering where I am, I have to go..." You slur, tugging at his collar.

He grunts in protest, taking your ear between his teeth and nibbling it.

"If you let me go, I'll steal some cake for you tomorrow at breakfast." If there's anything Jungkook likes more than Cream Ice, it was cake. He unravels you from his arms and nods, his eyes softening.

"Request my service tomorrow, from Ms.Kang. She's been sweet on me lately." You peck his cheek before stepping back. Your rouge has embarrassingly stained His Grace's cheek.

Jungkook bows and presses a kiss on your hand, eyes rising to meet yours. "Til' morrow, babe."

Jiyoo shakes you awake the next morning, handing you a cake and a note that reads: "Prince Jungkook has a commission he must discuss with you. Meet him at his chamber immediately."

Lacing on a simple corset over your nightgown, you try not to look too red in the face as you climb up the stairs to His Majesty's room. You'd be up there alone, as requested. The girls would absolutely start rumors based on that alone-- rumors which you realize are probably totally true. This was stuff of scandal, after all...

'There shouldn't be anything scandalous about love.' You decide as you rap on His Highness' door.

"Please enter...but only if you have my cake!" Jungkook says in his morning voice. He's so cute.

The simplicity of Jungkook's abode takes you by surprise. His bedroom is very well lit, a capital display of the flowered valley through his bay windows washed the room in gold, painting his porcelain white carpets and his cotton sheets a warm creme color. His drawers and vanity were etched in gold, with breathtaking detailing.

The Monarch himself was splayed across the bed, laying on his side casually. He held a glass in his hand, holding a white wine. He puts down his glass and sits up as your presence.

"We both know that you didn't come here as my servant." You lock the door behind you. "And I have no such commission to give you, darling." The innocence which undertones his usual speech is missing as he coaxes you towards him.

"This much I know, Your Majesty," You say, taking a bit of frosting on your index finger and smudging it on the Princes lips. His black eyes, as cunning as a viper, watch you dangerously as you push two fingers past his plush lips. He wraps his hands around your wrist and draws your hand away, his gaze fixating on you.

"Set the cake down." At his command, you carefully place the confection down on a nearby chest, feeling Jungkook's eyes on you, drawing you back towards his grip.

"Let me pull your laces apart," with your waist held by his Herculean hand, he hums "and then let me pull you apart. I want to memorize your pleasures and gratify your desires, I need it, y/n..." Your back flush against his chest and your thighs split, his hands knead into you as he litters your collar with his mark.

You gasp softly against the crook of his neck, giving into his hold of you. His hot tongue spreads under your jaw, closing into a hard kiss as his hands travel back up to undo your corset and free your tits.

One by one, his fingers pop open the buttons left on your gown until the collar hangs off-shoulder to expose your collarbone. At the sight of new skin, Jungkook's tongue darts to stain it.

His hands stagger above your breasts. "Is it okay if I touch you here?"

"Oh, Kookie, touch me everywhere~" Your hands form fists around Jungkook's shirt, beckoning him impossibly closer.

Grasping one ever so carefully, his thumb grazes your bud as he playfully bites under your ear. "ah-- ahh,"

Jungkook groans in response, he can't believe how cute you sound. Curious, he wants to hear more, so he traces your thighs and experimentally pushes up the outside your cunt.

You squirm, tensing up immediately in response. You bring your hands down to find the latch on his trousers and dip your hands below to rub him through his undergarments. He heatedly bucks up to meet your touch, a panting mess.

You face him now as he watches you ride his fingers while you grip his girth through his clothes. He takes you by the ass and places you on his prominent bulge, hips rolling into you as he hungrily kisses you, his firm hands grinding your core on his cock.

His face is a sinful red, panting under you desperately.

"I've been wanting to do this," His voice warbles through your touch, running your thumb along his underside. It's his turn to gasp. He sits up and collapses his lips into yours, softer than rose petals and his taste faintly like wine.

You place your hand on his chest, and his heart is pounding, a thin layer of sweat already forming on his honeylike complexion.

Hastily, you pull your dress over your head and lean back to allow him to familiarize himself with your stark form, a dainty chain hanging between your bosom. Jungkook bites his lips as he wriggles out of his clothing, desposing of it beside the bed.

He's giddy behind those sultry eyes, you know him well enough that he's overexcited to get inside of you. It goes straight to his cock, your playfulness as you feel up his bare shoulders and discover his abdominals, your fingers tracing his ridges with a sense of innocent wonder.

He takes your hands and looks at you in this way-- Butterflies fill your stomach instantly. Jungkook's thumbing at your pout with his intrepid fingers.

His eyes flutter when grip his base and submerge your upper body below his hips. You lick a long, thick stripe up his underside, causing his breath to hitch and his head to fall back on to the bed.

Those goddamn cupid's bow lips of his would whisper the dirtiest things under his breath, lewd thoughts that sounded completely alien coming from His Majesty's mouth, he said for you.

"Oh, such a pretty mouth~ It's so good, y/n, you swallow me so good--" he moaned like a mantra, trying to keep his hips from snapping up into you. Your hot, wet tongue wrapped around his throbbing cock was only a fantasy to him for years.

He fills your throat with his girth, his taste tantalizingly smooth. It leaves your mouth with a 'pop.' You struggle to keep your legs apart as you crawl up to kiss him.

He takes those fingers of his and slides his index and middle into you and languidly thrusts them, smirking against your lips. "Shit, you liked that, hmm..."

"Kookie...please," you whine as he squeezes your ass hard before smacking it. You yelp, the sting of his fingers radiating from your skin.

"I like it when you beg, y/n, it's so cute..." He pulls your ass up to his thighs. He's flush hard against your abdomen, already sticky with his precum and your spit. You marvel at the self control he has.

You don't finish your thought before he has his head inside of you, impaling you on his cock and stretching your entrance, hissing at how incredible it felt to have you around him.

His shaft reached pleasure points within you had yet to discover. You clench, feeling his tip brush against your cervix. "Wh... hngh," he groans, "how did you do that, do it again--" You wrap your legs around his thighs and clench around him, biting your lip. You watch as he shivers from pleasure, feeling his skin horripilate under your touch.

His thumb is softly circling above your clit as he pulls out of you carefully. He swirls back in, nestling himself inside your heat, hissing. "Ahh~ Jungkook~!" At the sound of his first name moaned out of your mouth, he groans and rolls his hips up to create messy friction. That familiar knot in your stomach tingles as he plays with the bundle of nerves buried within you.

He glances up at your ruined lips, clashing with them again as he lifts your knees up with his hands and thrusts nice and rough, making you yell with every jolt of his cock. The smell and sound of sex fills the room as he experiments with positions, laying you on all fours.

"Get your ass up for me." You obey, ever servile. You're reminded-- you're his servant. He owns your work, he owns your services, and now he wants you in the most lucrative way, he wants your soaked cunt around his imperial cock. He gets what he wants.

Jungkook's palms smack against your ass one more time, just to watch the way it jiggles for him. He smirks a little before he shoves himself into your pretty little cunt. You bury your face into the pillows in pelasure as he chases your orgasm with vigor, fingering your clitoris while you move your hips back to meet his hard thrusts.

You whine like a harlot, his cock allowing you every satisfaction as he works a head-spinning orgasm out of that cunt. "I'm gonna cum, Kookie~!" you warn as you spasm against his length, moans ripping from your throat as you coat him with your thick juices.

His hips stutter up and he just barely pulls himself completely from you as he paints your back white, a guttural groan escaping his mouth.

After a while of loud panting and scattered giggling, Jungkook reaches over for a wet cloth and cleans the both of you gingerly. You trail your hands up to caress his jaw and kiss his lips softly.

"You need to tell everyone that I had a long and extensive request for the Harvest party, that I wanted a lot of fall fruits and vegetables featured in the baked goods, make it as specific as possible and make sure that you mention that I want to meet with you again, over dinner." His labored breathing punctuate his words, as youd kisses consume him. "And..."

"And?" You cock an eyebrow, simpering.

"Doyouthinkmaybeyoucouldbringmesomemilktogowithmycake?" He mumbles, eyes glued on the bed.

"What?" (If you give a Kookie a Cookie...)

Disgruntled, he sighs and repeats: "Milk! Milk for my cake. I know it's moist cause you made it but I'm really thirsty, especially after..." His cheeks flush a cute pink. You wait for him to continue just to fluster him a little more. "Y/N, just please!" You can't ever refuse his pouty face.

Next week, Jungkook's got you pinned against the hallway wall, making out with you hungrily as his hands ride up your dress. Just across the hall, his Dad is negotiating war with Portugal over land in the West.

The next month, you have his cock buried in your throat underneath the table at an important conference about how to create jobs.

All this while the pressure for Jungkook to find a bride continues to rise as he reaches seniority, and as his father's grey hairs pronounce themselves.

Warm touches are always hidden away to the public eye, but often shared between two kindred spirits underneath the man in the moon's watchful eye. Jungkook, as he reaches his maturity, grows strong. His jaw sharpens, and his eyes darken. His hair grows long, and he gains weight. Now at the proud age of 20, Jungkook had become a man before everyone's eyes, including the eyes of foreign monarchs and their eligible bachelorettes.

One day, you're serving the Royal family at a private dinner, when the topic of marriage comes up for the first time since his birthday.

"Your mother has made friends with the mother of the Austrian Princess, and she's invited you to the cordial ball to introduce yourself to the Princess. An allyship with Austria would prove advantageous for our relations with France, so you are to make your best impression." The King wipes his mouth. Setting his fork down, he continues: "It is in the family's best interest for you to marry her, if the French Princess, Anastasie, does not present this season or the next." The Queen holds the King's hand firmly, reassuring him from his shoulder. She wears a slight frown on her face, her eyes worrisome, somber. The King hides his anxiety, as he's been accustomed to from decades of responsibility. Would this be the face of Jungkook soon?

For now, Jungkook's face is scrunching at the thought of marrying Anastasie. She's not the most delightful young woman, her imprudence ruined her enjoyment of any event. She couldn't keep an intuitive conversation about regional politics and domestic policy for the life of her. Her people were on the brink of overthrowing the aristocracy, he was sure of it.

"Yes, father," is what you hear from him before you disappear down the stairs to fetch desserts.

Jiyoo interrupts your quest for sweets with a letter, signed by His Grace. She has a naturally innocent demeanor, her cheeks rosy and her frame as delicate as a feather. "Y/N, you have another special request from His Majesty...can I ask you why you get so many of these?" She looks genuinely curious, not a single menacing thought behind those eyes.

"It's because the Prince really really loves his cake." I mean, technically it was true. Jungkook never passed up an opportunity to squeeze, smack, or dig his fingernails into your ass during your sessions.

"Oh." Jiyoo pouts. "So it's not because you're like, in love or anything?" Her eyes are glued to the floor. You were expecting this question eventually, as the other girls in the kitchen were already suspecting it. It was only a matter of time before word slipped into the girl's ears.

"As much as I enjoy the Prince's interest in my baking, it isn't my place to confess any sort of feeling for him." Your answer is straightforward enough, so Jiyoo nods and hands you the letter. Another request.

Outside the Palace, Winter came like the wind. Lakes froze over, and couples tied up their skates and danced on the ice. The trees were bare and brown, not a single leaf persisting through the chilling breath of Jack Frost.

Jungkook had left for the Winter Palace, to volunteer and raise spirits up in the North. As heir to the throne, he was to be Commander in Chief of the Royal Armed Forces, and therefore needed to undergo intensive training in order to boost morale.

You're back home, and in your wake is your father, who has now grown tangibly tired. He's been on a strict diet of warm vegetable soup for about three months, now. His eyes are sunken, but he still wears a subtle smile even during his most trying days.

Match girls make their rounds at night, you watch as the lamplighters illuminate the streets with their tall ladders and their taller peacoats. Shop windows glow warm shades of yellow and creme; inscriptions on the glass create shadows on the white snow.

"Wow. It's almost as cold as the King's heart out here." You step outside one day with a cup of tea, sneaking in a cheeky smirk. Yeah, good one.

"I heard that!" You turn towards the little voice. A child, maybe about 9 or 10 years old is pointing at you. You squint at it.

"Well, it's true..." You mumble. You have a bit of change in your pocket, so you walk towards a stand to buy a hot bun and a paper.

"Chilly today, hon...Best you take this on the house." The tenant hands you a steaming cake wrapped in a simple cloth and your paper. You stick the paper in your dress pocket and take back your change. You nod a 'thank you.'

You spill the contents of your pockets on the dining table and snatch the paper, snapping it open. Your eyes eagerly skim the headline: "Prince Jungkook Fires Up Royal Army." Below is an article detailing the happenings of His Majesty. All of it sounded very intense, the running, strategizing, first aid training...Was there anything Prince Jeon couldn't nail on the first try?

You set the paper down and pick up your now lukewarm tea. In the back of your mind you're coping with the fact that the Spring Solstice is next week, and that marks the beginning of Jungkook's last season as a Prince.

The King is ill with tuberculosis, and recovery is unlikely. If Jungkook is to marry, it is next season and that was final.

Sitting at the window of his Winter Castle study, Jungkook plays with a ring nestled between his fingers. He looks out onto the lake, as if he's trying to reach you with his gaze. His heart is tight knowing that it would be the season he chooses his bride. Actually, he'd already made up his mind long ago. If his duty was to marry, there was no way to evade such a responsibility. He had to fulfill it, despite his anxieties.

He straightens up and walks out of the hollow room with a firm step.

You awaken with the sound of horse's hooves thudding against the Earth. It is yet to be dawn, and in the distance, thunder roars mightily.

A figure wearing a long, black hood hoists itself off of the animal, tying it to a nearby post. It walks towards an obscure entrance, unknown to many staff.

Intrigued, you wrap a blanket around yourself and peek out at the stranger. His fingers are shorter than his palms, and that's when he tosses of his hood, his eyes set on you. "Y/N..."

You're bewildered by his guise, questions filling your head.

"I was horny, so I left camp" He sits down at the counter, catapulting a cookie into his mouth.

You roll your eyes. "And the guards let you?! Jungkook!" You whisper-yelled at him, readjusting your makeshift blanket-dress.

"Obviously not!" He puffed out his chest with pride. "I bribed them," he smirks.

"You're insufferable," you scoff, your eyes wandering down to observe his physique. His shirt is anything but conservative, highlighting the muscle he'd earned through laborious, sweat-inducing drills. You can feel his eyes on your face as you observe him.

"You can't hide it either," he crosses his arms. "You're standing in the kitchen with a blanket around your naked body." He flicks his tongue. He steps forward, putting a finger under your jaw so you're looking him in the eye.

Your eyes fill with lust as he speaks over your lips. "Look at yourself..." A crash is heard in the other room.

Jungkook's head darts up and in a flash, he disappears into the night.

'Fuck.' You gather your dress from the floor and shuffle back to your chamber.

The first event of the season commences with the most exaltant of spirits as friends of old greet each other with youthful smiles. Juicy exposés, enticing tales, and thoughtful greetings are exchanged in the most formal manner, and the conversation is lively; the most controversial topic of conversation, however, is the rumor that Jungkook is to marry this season.

So far, he's been to four different private residences within his own Kingdom and has been invited, by the secretary of King Louis XVII to meet their daughter. It would be an understatement to say that stakes were high for the pending King.

You were kneading your dough a little too hard thinking about it. "Not so rough, y/n!" Ms.Kang snatches the mixture from your hands. "What is up with you lately, you're so tense! It's really disrupting the kitchen's dynamic."

You shrug it off. "It's going to be hard sedating Anastasie's sweet tooth, I suppose."

"Well, you seem to be doing just fine dealing with Jungkook's addiction to cakes...She's perfect for him, really." Ms.Kang throws more flour on your kneading table and steps off. You give up on the dough, covering it with a cloth and letting it rise.

Jungkook is tapping his feet, munching on finger sandwiches as he waits on you to make an appearance.

"Dearest Prince, look, I am wearing Mediterranean violet!" A duchess shouts as she passes by him, to which he raises his eyebrows at. Another, with dark green eyes approaches and begins speaking rapidly in French at him. Frightened and undereducated, his canned response was: "Excusez-moi, Pouvez-vous répéter plus lentement s'il vous plaît," to which the duchess furrows her eyebrows before something else catches her attention, elsewhere.

Truth is, Jungkook is incredibly shaken at the thought of announcing his engagement tonight. Well, that and the fact that you had yet to pop out of the kitchen. Man, those finger sandwiches were good.

As the night progresses, Jungkook realizes that if he doesn't get up on that platform and say what he needed to say, he'd have to say it in London. Setting his fears aside, he plants himself on top of the orchestral stage and taps a champagne glass with a cheese fork. The music comes to a stop.

With conviction, he begins: "The time has come that I announce my engagement. To all of my beloved friends, who have introduced me to the most beautiful, talented, diverse, and benevolent ladies I've come to get to know over the years, I thank you from the depths of my soul." He swallows and continues, his confident voice masking his trembling. "The life of a Prince is defined by the virtues presented to him at birth. Those virtues are: duty, responsibility, grace, kindness, mercy and integrity." Here comes the part, oh shit.

"I am abdicating my throne to my Cousin, the Duke of Namseong."

Silence sweeps the room. You poke your head out to see what was going on.

"...to marry the love of my life, y/n." He points at you. Your face is cherry red, and you find yourself dropping those same Danish fucking pastries all over the carpet.

"Shit," you fall on your knees, plucking them from the ground one by one. You don't know whether to run as fast as you can or to present yourself, but your body seems to be currently doing the latter. You go along with it.

Jungkook takes your hand tenderly on the stage. "I am unable to perform my duties as King, and therefore am ineligible for the throne." His touch gives you the will to continue beside him. You feel the pure fear rushing through your love's veins, and he knows that this is the hardest thing he'll ever have to do, yet he stands by his announcement.

So, if Jungkook doesn't get to be King of this World, he at least will forever be the King of Your Heart.

But all this, of course...is all in Your, dear reader, Head.

~

a/n:

hope you enjoyed.

[burnedbyshoto]

bakugou leaving reader for the unknown, for his dream, because where they were wasn’t good enough, it was a hindrance on his future. it wasn’t so much that he hated his hometown, the people, or even you — he loved you, after all — but he just could never keep himself tied down to the place he was trying to outgrow.

he leaves for university, in the big city, a campus that is known for making the best, creating trailblazers in every field imaginable, and when he leaves at the age of eighteen, he doesn’t come back. all he remembers is the shocked look on your face and the helpless tears streaming down your face when he broke up with you.

it’s been twelve years, and he’s thirty now. he changed his number when he got to the new city, only keeping touch with his parents out of obligation than anything else. it’s short phone calls, three minute conversations of mitsuki scolding him for not calling enough, for never visiting, masaru trying to gently express their concerns for their only son, and of course, bakugou saying he needs to leave.

his parents are strangers to him, practically, and whenever they try to speak of his past life, the one he exchanged away for the current CEO position he’s found himself in, he hangs up. he doesn’t want to hear it, he doesn’t want the bitter pit in his stomach when they even begin to speak your name.

but they haven’t mentioned you in years.

but the thing about katsuki is, unfortunately, his attitude.

thirty years old and a prominent CEO of a company no older than four years old and yet already a billionaire? practically unheard of. sure, people, normal people, praise him for it, but the board? men who used to people like katsuki don’t praise him.

they hate his harsh attitude, his ridiculous will power, and necessity to do everything, and somehow… katsuki gets put on a leave of absence for a minimum of a year.

at first, it’s fine. bakugou spends the newfound free time traveling, seeing the world, doing things he never was able to because he was building his empire. but three months of nothing leads him to grow restless, bored, and the worst feeling in the world crawls into the pit of his stomach and he realizes in month number five what it is.

for the first time in his life, bakugou katsuki is: homesick.

so he goes home, trading the concrete jungle and modern technology for dirt roads and rusting machines. it’s just for a moment, he says as he sees the life he left behind ages ago.

it’s much slower in his hometown, people much more open and conversing with one another instead of cellphones like he’s grown used to. he isn’t quite ready to knock on his mother’s front door so he goes to the general store and walks straight to where he just knows his past time favorite snacks are.

to his total surprise (notice the sarcasm?) it’s right where he remembered it was through the cobwebs of his memory. there’s one bag of spicy corn chips left and as he reached for it, another hand goes for it too.

he freezes for a bit, eyebrows furrowing as he looks at the person who’s hand is connected to the bag of chips he wants.

but he stops breathing for just a moment.

it’s a young girl, most definitely no older than twelve, with your face. it’s exactly the same. but unlike you, the girl had ash blonde hair and deep red eyes.

the girl blinks eyes looking taken back and slightly lost, as does bakugou, and then as if finally caught up on the situation of things, she scowls.

“hands off the chips, old man! I got here first!”

the magic is gone and bakugou feels his eye twitch as he reels backward.

“what the hell did you just say to—?!”

“I said hands off! arent you too old to be eating chips anyways?! you’re practically a million years old, eat the lame corn nuts or something,” she scoffs rolling her eyes as she tucks the bag of chips under her arm.

“aren’t you some shitty little brat!” bakugou hisses, his hand twitching with irritation. “don’t you know to respect your fucking elders.”

“ain’t nothing to respect from what I can tell!”

“aiko, hurry up,” a voice bemoans from behind the aisle and bakugou feels his chest constrict in the weirdest, most heart aching way as you walk around the corner with an armful of party supplies. “we have to get to your grand—”

bakugou stares at you, and you at him. the tension and silence so thick and heavy on the both of your shoulders and tongues.

in the twelve years he’s been away, bakugou has had other relationships. most of them due mostly to friends insistence, and others mostly just because he wanted a warm body nearby. but no one could ever match what you meant to him, not that he could have realized that because he could never think back to you. you were his past, not his present, not his future.

and bakugou was suddenly feeling a lot of things, thinking a lot of things as he looked between you and well… aiko.

“y/n,” bakugou’s voice is hollow, almost unbelievable. “i-is she — are we—?”

“this is my daughter, y/l/n aiko,” you say, steely calm and dangerous. the warm smile you were wearing moments ago clean off your face and your eyes were like glass — shiny, unemotional. “she was born after you left, so you never got a chance to meet her, did you?”

“y/n—“

“y/l/n!” you snap, face still void of emotions. “you don’t have that right anymore.”

bakugou stiffens for a moment, but he knows that you’re right. “y/l/n,” he tries again, your last name a word he’s never had to use in his entire life to address you. “how old is she?”

“mama,” aiko whispers, eyes glaring at bakugou as she stand protectively in front of you, fingers digging into your blouse. “I wanna go now.”

your eyes drop from bakugou, and he watches as a strained but kind smile is expressed to aiko as you press a kiss to her forehead. “okay, go pay for these things for me, will ya? tell tayo-sama we’ll pay him back tomorrow. i’m going to finish this conversation with… with my old classmate.”

aiko looks between you and bakugou, eyebrows furrowed with unsaid questions but she nods, grabbing the things from your arms and going to the cash register. bakugou keeps his gaze on the young girl until your fingers dig into his bicep and your pulling him into a corner that he had definitely made out with you in ages, lifetimes ago.

“what are you doing here?!” you hiss in a near terrible whisper, face frazzled and overwhelmed. “you’ve never been back home! what’s different?!”

“is she mine?!”

“no!” you shriek, fist hitting his chest. “she’s not yours! she’s mine! she’s not some claimable object you get to collect years later!”

bakugou stiffens but also feels like he melts with guilt under those words… youre right. he has no claim to her. all he did was give her life but it was a life where he was probably nothing more than an empty space in. but he looks at you, millions of emotions swimming through your watery eyes, and the snarl on your lips as you stand before him as if you could do anything.

“i’m… i’m sorry, you’re right,” bakugou says, lips pressing into a thin line.

“you shouldn’t have come back,” you laugh miserably, fingers massaging your temples. your tone is weak, defeated, as if for the first time in your life you felt the bottom of the pit. “why did you come back home?”

“mama!!!! let’s go already!!!” aiko whines by the entrance and you tremble in front of him before shaking your head.

“coming!” you call back to her.

bakugou steals another look at what is his daughter. a girl he never knew existed.

“do me a favor, bakugou,” you say passing him with small but domineering steps. “don’t do anything to make her suspect youre her father.”

it took a few hours, probably more, maybe less, but bakugou finally finds himself at his childhood home. he’s heart feeling like it was being swallowed as the front door opened and he saw his older mother and father standing at the entrance. bakugou couldn’t understand what they were saying as they welcomed him in, he could only notice how their home looked exactly the same… well except that the walls that were decorated with photos of him and only him were also covered with pictures of aiko.

“did you know?” bakugou asks before he can even say hello.

mitsuki stopped mid rant, her face moving from irritated mother to exasperated but pitiful silence.

“since she found out.”

“why didn’t you… why didn’t I know?”

“she tried telling you, called you multiple times only to be blocked,” masaru gently explains. “you always shut us down when we so much as mentioned her.”

“she even flew out there at one point but caught you making out with some dumb model too.” mitsuki inserts with a huff. “we tried, brat. you just…”

bakugou is silent, his heartbeat roaring in his ears at the thought of his initial monstrous attempt of deleting his past life. mitsuki sighs, sad and sullen.

“there was no point in telling you when you won’t listen.”

or the story of a one sided bitter ex as bakugou and reader are challenged at creating some semblance of a relationship because aiko pieces it together the moment they looked at each other. including a lot of angst, a six month time limit to rekindle a once in a lifetime love story because choosing between family and work is damn hard.

[rickmandowneyjr]

Cuts to Cope

Angst, fluff Pairing: Severus Snape and Student!Reader (platonic) Warning: talk of self-harm, mentions of character's death Word Count: 2348 A/N: This is a little piece I wrote a while ago but didn't know if I should post or not. After re-doing certain bits, I decided to upload it. Hope it's not too difficult to read. As always, the ending is a little abrupt and not too detailed, leaving it sort of up to y'all as well :) Sorry if there are any typos (I only ever get the time to write when it's quite late nowadays)

Yet another day at Hogwarts - waking up at 6:30 am, showering, getting dressed in your robes, and heading to breakfast. Wishing everyone you passed a good morning, wearing your signature smile as you did.

You were a 7th year, one of the few returning ones after last year's incident with Cedric Diggory. He'd been your best friend, or at least that's what people thought. Cedric Diggory and you had been dating for the last 7 months before his death. You didn't want anyone knowing because being star students meant eyes prying into every aspect of your relationship.

People praised you, a model student and now, prefect, who set an example. An example of how to be strong and cope no matter what life threw at you. Little did they know, you harboured a little secret. A dark, horrifying, and disturbing secret that would never let anyone look at you the same way if they ever found out.

Your first class for the day was Potions. You were a brilliant student, especially at Potions, yet Snape still had something against you. You didn't take it personally, though; he wasn't really fond of anyone. You walked into class, taking your regular seat at the front. Snape walked into class a little while later, slamming the door behind him, commanding everyone's attention.

"Turn to page 420," he drawled. You opened the book to find the recipe for Amortentia. Your heart felt a tug at the name of the love potion, never having been able to find out the answers with Cedric.

Snape's deep voice brought your focus back to class as he said, "Since it takes a week to brew, I've already completed most of the process. All you need to do is the last day's work," making the class sigh with relief. "However," he continued, "The last day of brewing is crucial and not easy. So, I expect your attention to be fully on the task at hand."

You began brewing the potion, following the steps perfectly. Snape sat down to grade papers as the class worked. He looked at you and said, "Ms. [L/N], roll up your sleeves while you work. I'd hate for there to be mishaps in my class because of one student's carelessness."

You hesitated, but then did as asked. You weren't the best at wandless magic but had made sure to perfect this spell solely for such instances. As you rolled your sleeves, you subtly waved your hand over your forearms, mumbling, "Illusiont," and casting the disillusionment charm.

You saw Snape narrow his eyes at you and panicked for a second before you saw him shake his head and return to grading. Breathing a sigh of relief, you returned to the task at hand and continued brewing.

After a while, you'd finished, and were the first one to have done so. Snape walked over to your desk and took a whiff of the potion, raising an eyebrow before giving you a single nod of approval, letting you know that it was perfect. Once everyone was done, he walked around, starting at the back, and asked everyone to announce what they smelled. You hadn't smelled your Amortentia yet and hadn't planned on doing so either, feeling quite relieved when Snape hadn't asked that question earlier.

Your heart rate quickened as you began to worry about how your body and mind would react to smelling it. You couldn't do it last year, since the Triwizard tournament had led to a bunch of classes being cancelled. As you thought about how excited you had been at the prospect of sharing the experience with Cedric, Snape's voice pulled you back to your potions class.

"Ms. [L/N]."

"Yes, sir?"

He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "What. Do. You. Smell," he spoke, irritation evident in every word.

You swallowed hard as you leaned forward to inhale the scent. Your pupils dilated, your heartbeat quickened and your knees threatened to give out at the all-too-familiar fragrance. Your throat went dry as you stopped the tears from forming.

"Well? We haven't got all day, class is to be dismissed soon." He raised an eyebrow at you, asking you to hurry up since you were the last one.

With every ounce of energy, you calmed yourself and stopped your voice from wavering. "Old books, butterscotch and... vanilla," you sighed. Your breathing was erratic and you knew you needed to get out of class and get to the abandoned girls' washroom.

As if on cue, the bell rang, dismissing the class. Snape gave you an odd look and was about to ask you what was wrong but you had already gathered your belongings and were marching out the door. He decided to follow you since he'd never seen you act like that before and was wondering what had happened to you all of a sudden.

You made your way up the stairs, hurrying before you had a breakdown in the middle of the hallway. As you reached the washroom, you started rummaging through your bag since the hallway was empty. You took the small blade that you carried around out, pushing the door to the bathroom open.

Snape's POV

I followed her out of the classroom. Though not my favourite, [Y/N] was an incredible witch and this wasn't normal behaviour for her. She'd marched out before I had even dismissed class which concerned me even more, given her usually 'perfect' behaviour. She paced through the hallways and up the stairs so fast that I could've sworn she was moving around faster than I did on a normal basis. There was an urgency in her stride and I don't know why, but it concerned me.

She finally turned into the hallway leading to the girls' washroom on the third floor, which was odd. No one used this, as far as I was aware. I was a little embarrassed, considering I'd just followed a young girl to a washroom. In an isolated area, at that. I swear I never would've imagined myself going even further and following her in, but what I'd seen had shocked and concerned me enough to do just that.

End of Snape's POV

As you entered the bathroom, you had missed Snape, whose eyes were wide with shock. He couldn't believe what he'd seen. [Y/N] [L/N], the golden girl of Hogwarts, had just walked into an abandoned washroom after pulling out a blade from her bag. Not wanting to jump to any conclusions, he rushed in, wanting to confirm what his eyes had just seen.

As you were about to enter a stall, the door to the bathroom, swung open, making you jump. You hid the blade by making a fist, unintentionally cutting into your palm. You winced at the unexpected pain but didn't let it show.

You turned to face Professor Snape, and he was eyeing your hand. 'There's no way he saw it, is there?' you thought.

"Ms. [L/N], care to show me your hands?"

You panicked. He knew. You tried to divert his attention. "Sir, this is the girls' washroom."

"I'm aware," he stated. "Now... Hands," he said as he glared at you, letting you know that he wouldn't fall for any attempts to change the subject.

You sighed and opened your hands, and saw his gaze soften. He walked to you taking your hand in his as he gently pulled the razor out. You winced as it came out, knowing this would impair you for the rest of your classes.

"What were you thinking?!" He scolded, startling you. He reached for your arm, rolling up your sleeves once again and muttered, "Finite."

The scars on your arms started showing up and you couldn't do anything but look away, your eyes resting anywhere but his gaze.

"So that was the Disillusionment Charm I heard you use, earlier."

You stayed silent, still refusing to meet his eyes. Of all the professors, it had to be him. Sure, he wasn't fond of you, but you had immense respect for the man, and to let him see you in this light... it took every bit of you to not lose your composure.

"Look at me," he said.

You turned to face him. His usually cold eyes showed too much concern and the uncharacteristic response from the potions master was proving to be a lot to handle. Tears stung your eyes as he stared at you.

"Why?" He asked, his voice so genuine that you couldn't help but let your emotions spill, creating a mess that you couldn't be bothered to care about anymore.

"I can't do this anymore," you sniffled. "I don't want to. He was everything to me and it just hurts so much."

"Who?"

"Cedric."

"Ah, yes. I'm aware you and Mr. Diggory were best friends. I'm sorry, [Y/N]."

"No," you said, finally being able to talk to someone about it. "He was my boyfriend. And... I never got to tell him I loved him... because I wasn't sure. Today just made it worse when I smelled him in my Amortentia. It confirmed that I did and I never got to say it." You were sobbing now, not caring what you looked like, what a mess you probably were, or what Snape was thinking of you and your confession.

You felt him awkwardly wrap his arms around you as he pulled your head to his chest. Your cries got louder and your wails of agony echoed in the empty washroom as your hands clutched the fabric of his robes. The feeling of someone comforting you was overwhelming. You'd always had to keep up this image of a perfect student, reliable friend, someone who could never have such horrifying tendencies.

Even then, as you cried out loud, your instinct made you bury your face in his chest, muffling the 'ugly' sobs. Snape's heart broke as your thoughts flooded his mind. As you struggled to breathe, he turned your head slightly, making you audible again. He didn't hush you; just stroked your hair as your tears soaked his robes.

It took a while, but you finally calmed down, your sobs reducing to soft whimpers before they died out entirely. Your throat was sore, and lips, chapped from all the crying. Your eyes were red and puffy, and the reality of the situation finally came crashing down on you.

Your secret was out. More than one, at that. One of the professors knew, and the strictest one too. You had just spent Merlin knows how long crying into his chest, which was now soaked with your tears.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, your voice, hoarse. "Your robes are all wet now," you said, trying to move away.

"That's the least of my worries right now," he said, keeping your head in place as he continued, "I understand what you're going through. Better than you'd know." It sounded like it was painful for him to talk about it, the tone of his voice giving the vulnerability away. "But this is not the way to deal with it," he said as rubbed your back.

"Does it go away?"

"I'll be honest," he sighed. "It does get lesser with time if you allow yourself to heal. However, it never goes away entirely. A part of you will always love and miss him. I'm sorry," he said.

"No, I'm glad. I don't want to forget him. Or my love for him. Cedric Diggory was and will always be - my first love."

You finally pulled away from his chest and looked him in the eyes as he gave you a gentle smile. You managed to muster a somber one and sighed.

"Do any of your friends know?"

"Merlin, no!"

"Why not? They're your friends. They could-"

"I can't have this getting out. Everyone will-"

"Who cares what people think?" He raised his voice. It was silent for a while before he sighed and spoke again.

"[Y/N], I want you to promise me something."

You knew what was coming. You gulped and nodded softly.

"I want you to promise me that you'll stop this. Cedric wouldn't want this for you."

"I know, and I've tried before. It's not that simple-"

"I know," he said, cutting you off. "Which is why, the next time you get the urge to do this, you'll come to me. No matter what the situation might be."

You were surprised at his words. It was incredibly nice of him to offer this to you, and you nodded, accepting his generosity.

"Also," he continued, "Please stop going to such great lengths to please others and worrying about what others think. It's not healthy."

"But-"

"But nothing. Your health is suffering and you can't even bring yourself to tell anyone because you're so busy keeping up this little charade of 'everything is fine'."

You stayed silent. There was truth in his words and you couldn't refute his accusations. You just looked up at him, once again, finding the uncharacteristic concerned look meeting your gaze. Nodding softly, you agreed. How could you not when someone had shown you such consideration and compassion?

A small smile graced his usually stoic face as he helped you up, and you both made your way out of the bathroom. He escorted you back to your dormitories, ensuring you were alright before the two of you parted ways.

The rest of the school year passed and Snape stayed true to his word, and you to yours. Every time you felt the urge to hurt yourself to relieve the pain, you'd find Snape. He was patient and helped you every step of the way. Slowly, but surely, you were able to overcome your urges and also found yourself living for yourself, rather than up to others' expectations.

By the time you graduated, you had overcome the habit and thanked Snape in your graduation speech, never giving away the details as to why. A lot of people had assumed there was something between the two of you, especially since you went to meet him all through the school year, but you didn't let it bother you, because... Who cares what people think, right?

-

P.S. - Sorry I've been a little slow with the writing. My college assignments have started rolling in and I'm currently swamped. Also, I'm working on a little something (announcing it in 2-3 days so make sure to check in lol). Rest assured, I'm slowly and steadily making my way through requests. Thank you for understanding <3

[escapingmytrauma]

HIS PROPERTY

  YANDERE TOUYA TODOROKI/DABI X VIRGIN F!READER

CW/TW: Kidnapping, dub/non-con, dacryphilia, praise and degrading, mentions of cremating, yandere behavior, degrading, praise, dirty talk, threaten use of anal, stolen virginity, ownership, possessive behavior.

WC: 3.8K

DARK CONTENT! DARK CONTENT! DARK CONTENT! 18+

                Dabi: His Property

           You sighed as your sister wept into your shoulder about how horrible he was. You knew that everyone knew that. Dabi was a villain for God’s sake. Did she really believe that he was going to change?

“I’m never going back to him, he can fucking die for all I care,” She blabbered. You held the urge to roll your eyes knowing all too well she does care. He doesn’t even care for her, but you and her friends had already told her multiple times; y’all could only give her so much advice.

It had already been two weeks and she was still crying all day. It was a toxic relationship, one you would never want to be in. But older sisters were always the example of what to do and of what NOT to do. Another hiccup escaped her lips as she lifted herself off your shoulder and looked over to you with pleading eyes. You wanted to look away because you knew she was about to ask for a huge favor, and one you more than likely would not want to do.

“Hey… could you ever be so kind and pick up the rest of my things from Dabi’s place?” Your jaw slightly dropped; sure, she asked you for ridiculous favors, but this, this took the cake. She knows how much you dislike Dabi, and you would never admit it, but he intimidated you; he intimidated everyone. Your sister was just stupid enough to get caught up in with someone like him.

“I don’t know, Gigi… It was your relationship, not mine, I don’t want to get involved if I’m being honest,” You admitted. She grabbed you by the shoulders and looked straight into your eyes with her bottom lip slightly pouted out.  

“Pleaseeeee, sis. I’m begging you, I don’t want to see him,” Gigi begged. You looked over to her friends who were watching this unfold. Your eyes asking them to intervene. To do something, anything. To your luck they rubbed the back of their neck and looked away.

You scoffed and looked back at her, “Fine. I’m only doing this because I don’t want this to slap back in my face,” You stated as you stood up. Your sister gave you a big hug and continuously whispered her thanks to you; shrugging it off you hesitantly made your way out and headed off to Dabi’s.

 ******

 You were in front of the door, an uneasy feeling settling in your stomach kept making you hesitate to knock. Best case scenario he wasn’t home. Taking a deep breath, you gave the door two good hard knocks.  

To your dismay you heard shuffling on the other side and the door starts opening as words pour out of Dabi’s mouth, “Already crawling back Gi- “He stopped midway when he looked and saw that it was you and not your sister.

Dabi was shocked on the inside, but he couldn’t show it. His dumb ex sent her poor, younger, innocent sister to come collect her things, which he had already thrown out, but she didn’t need to know that.

“Ah… If it isn’t Gigi’s little sister,” Dabi said with a smirk playing on his lips. The use of your whole name had your shoulders slightly shrinking. “What brings you here?” He asks as he leans on his doorframe a glint in his eyes that tells you that this is a bad idea, a bad idea.

“Just coming to collect Gigi’s belongings…” You meekly reply. You were so determined to have a strong look, to not look intimidated, but that obviously didn’t hold up.

Keep it together for God’s sake!

Mentally scolding yourself as he raised one of his hands to come inside, “Yeah, they’re in the room, Come on in.” The dangerous smirk and glint his eyes not once leaving his face. Your heart was thumping loudly, your stomach was churning with nausea as every single bad scenario played in your head.

He’s going to kill me.

Dabi closed the door behind him and locked it. The sound of the lock had you tensing up, “I don’t want to waste any of your time so I promise it will be quick,” You quickly stammered out.

A small chuckle left his lips as he gazed at your whole body from head to toe, you had a much nicer figure than your sister that’s for sure. The clothing was so plain, some jean shorts and a simple V-neck blouse that complimented your cleavage a little too well. You uncomfortably shifted under his lustful gaze as you tried to think of something else.

“So…” you cleared your throat before proceeding, “Which room is her stuff in?” His piercing blue eyes shifted to the door behind you, and he nudged his chin indicating that that was room. You gave a small nod and turned around and made your room to the door. Your eyes must have missed the lock that was placed on the outside of the door instead of the inside as you walked into the room.

Dabi smirked as he followed closely behind you; you were falling right into his trap, you are poor, naïve soul.

“Dabi, there is nothing in here, just a bed,” You stated as you turned around and hit his chest. You took a wobbly step back. Your heart racing faster than it was before.

“I know.” You nervously swallowed as you looked anywhere but at him. A small hum left his lips as you looked and tried to think of a way to calm yourself. “You nervous? Hmm… doll, tell me, are you?” The words had a tone of mockery laced in them as you finally looked at his eyes.

“Stop being weird Dabi,” You muttered as you started to walk past him. That only proceeded in his roughly grabbing your upper arm and pulling you back and releasing you onto the hardwood floor with a thud.

“What was that for?! Dabi, seriously, if you’re mad about the breakup maybe you should go talk to Gigi,” You rambled with panic in your tone. Dabi kneeled in front of you grabbing your chin to force you to look at him.

“I never wanted your sister. I wanted someone else… can you guess who it is?” He taunted with a sinister grin on his stapled face. Mischievous blue pupils wanting to you to answer.

Your eyes were wide and your lips slightly apart of just how insane this guy is. His thumb reached over and glided across your bottom lip, “I’ll give you another hint, I’m looking right at her…” Dabi whispered. If you weren’t scared, you most definitely were now. His thumb continued lightly slide across your bottom lip as tears started strolling down your cheek. Dabi let out a wicked chuckle as his other hand pushed your body down to the ground and was now straddling you.

“Dabi… Don’t…”

“Don’t what, doll? Hmm?” Dabi leaned down and licked the tears off your face, letting out a small hum of approval as your hands were still frozen at your side. You were letting him touch you, lick your tears off, and you haven’t managed to stop him. His face was suddenly in front yours and he pushed his lips against your slipping his tongue in quickly. Your eyes were still wide, and your hands found themselves pushing against his chest. He easily grabbed both of your wrists pulling them away pushing them above your head.

He managed to get both of your wrists in one of his hands as the other trailed beneath your shirt, gripping at your side with an uncomfortable grip. You writhed and squirmed beneath him as he gripped harder at your sides. Dabi pulled away his face away from yours a string of saliva connected to both of y’all’s lips. He pulled his hand up from underneath your shirt and pushed his thumb in your mouth.

“Suck.” It wasn’t even a suggestion. You swallowed before nervously wrapping your tongue slightly around his thumb and sucking. Dabi groaned as he praised, “Good girl.”

His eyes were intensely watching you and you could nothing but look back, his whole gaze had your cheeks heating up from embarrassment. You wanted this to end.

A knock interrupted. Your eyes looked down hoping to the door, but you were met with Dabi’s pants and you could see a noticeable bulge against the crotch area. You sighed in relief when another knock.

“Dabi!” Your eyes went wide, it was your sister. Dabi chuckled and looked down at you with his thumb still in your mouth.

“Make a sound and I’ll cremate her,” Dabi threatened. Not giving you a chance to respond he took his thumb out of your mouth with an audible pop. Dabi stood up and looked down at you, “Now stay quiet and sit on the bed for me like a good little whore.” He walked out of the room and you heard the door lock on the other side. You slowly sat yourself up and fixed your shirt.

You could hear faint talking on the other side, your sister’s voice sounded panic and scared. But you couldn’t quite make out what they were talking about. You just stay there on the floor not making a sound as you try your best to not make any noise. You hear the front door open and shut, but you don’t hear any sounds.

Did he walk her out?

You stood up and walked over to the door trying to jiggle it, but nothing. It was locked. You sighed in frustration as you contemplated on whether or not to try to kick the door. Before you could decide you heard the front door open ad heavy footsteps approaching to the room. Taking a couple of shaky steps as you heard the lock unlock and the door being pushed wide open and being met with a wicked grin.

“Good news, doll!” Dabi walked closer to you as his hands were behind his back like he was hiding an item. You kept taking steps back until your back hit the wall, Dabi didn’t hesitate to close the distance, “Your sister thinks you’re hiding because you didn’t do what she asked… and on top of that I told her the truth of where her items were, so… she has no reason to come back here,” He casually explained. Your eyes narrowed as you could slightly feel your anger boiling up inside you.

“You sick son of a BITCH!” You yelled as your hand came swinging aiming for his cheek, but he stopped you with one of his hands.

A malicious chuckle left his lips as he gripped your wrist tightly causing you to whimper, “I’m going to break that fire of yours, and you’re going to love it,” Dabi whispered. You squirmed as you wanted to get out of his grip tugging your wrist only for him to increase his grip; you let out a small cry as tears stung the corner of your eyes.

Dabi pulled you to him only for him to force you on the bed with his weight, he brought his other hand out revealing a black leather collar. Your eyes widen as you struggle more; Dabi let out a huff in frustration as you weren’t being still.

“I’m going to fucking shove my cock in your ass if you don’t stop moving,” Dabi threatened.

He wasn’t one for empty threats and you knew that. You go completely still as you can’t hear anything besides the loud thumping in your chest. He hums in approval as he sits up straddling your body, he undoes the collar and is surprisingly gently as he puts it around your neck. Once he finishes his eyes hold nothing but lust, he loops his pinky finger in the hole where a chain can connect pulls at it forcing your face to come up. He leans down into you enveloping your lips in a deep kiss that you can’t escape.

A whimper barely makes its way out of you as your hands feebly push against his chest. He yanks on the collar harder causing you to let out a grunt. Dabi releases the collar and the kiss pushing you down by your shoulders flat on the bed. He sits back up and tears your shirt and burns the middle of your bra.

“Dabi please do- “

“No… I will…” he cuts you off as his fingers fiddle with the button on your jean shorts, “And you’re gonna be a good lil’ whore for me and take it.” He gets up off you and quickly takes both your shorts and panties off, your face heats up as you quickly clamp your legs together in an effort to hide, Dabi quickly pushes his hands in between and caws your thighs apart as your whole mind is now processing what is going on.

I’m going to get raped! Dabi is going to take my virginity.

Tears freely roll down your cheeks as his face is now right in front of your pussy, shame and fear lighting up within you. He delves his tongue in between your folds, you let out a small mewl as you squirm. His arms going beneath your thigh as he wraps his hands around your thigh and grips down to hold you still. Dabi continues to lap greedily at your cunt as you can’t hold back the noises that escape your mouth.

Dabi is thoroughly enjoying your reactions, trying to get you prepared for him. Such a responsive thing, he loved it. Sucking on your bud he releases one of your thighs as he brings two of his fingers at your soaking entrance. He slowly pushes them. A loud gasp escapes your mouth as your fingers entangle themselves into his hair.

“Nngh…” You squeeze your eyes shut trying to block him out, but his thick digits are fucking you at a pace that won’t allow you to do so. He swirls his tongue around your clit as he picks up the pace; breathy moans falling shamelessly out of your mouth.

“Look at you… moaning like a lil’ slut,” Dabi comments as you clench around his fingers. You just whimper in return, your whole face heating up in the fact that you are enjoying this. Your body is. The feeling in your stomach starts to become bigger as Dabi now is hovering over you as his two fingers penetrate you and his thumb roughly rubs at your bud.

Your body is reacting on its own as it starts to grind in motion with Dabi’s fingers. He growls lowly as he pulls you up to him by the collar as he kisses you. His tongue raiding your mouth to where you can taste yourself on him. You don’t want to cum on his fingers, but you can’t help it. The sensation is too powerful as you moan loudly into his mouth orgasming on his fingers.

Dabi pulls his fingers out and shoves them into your mouth pushing them far back causing your vision to blur and you to gag. He removed his fingers as a trail of saliva followed and he started unbuckling his belt. Dabi was quick to remove his pants. You tried regaining a little composure as you slowly sat up only to be pushed back down.

“Turn over.” You froze. You really didn’t want to, but at the same time who knew what threats he had up his sleeve. You slowly rolled over to your back your heart racing as tears stung your eyes again. You felt as his hand snaked beneath around your stomach as he started to lift you up. Even though you were a virgin you understood everything about sex. You knew exactly what he was asking for. You obediently got on your knees and your hands.

You could hear him hiss lowly as he brought his body close to yours. “Dabi please… don’t…” you tried pleading one more time. “I’m a- “

“Doll. Don’t make me shove it in your ass,” Dabi warned. You swallowed all protests and squeezed your eyes shut. You tried to steady your breathing as you felt his head tease your entrance.

Please go slowly! Please go slowly!

As if reading your mind, he slowly pushes his head in, hissing as he could already feel you clenching around him. God, you were so fucking tight. He continues to push himself in as you let out a cry and tears fall down the side of your face. Dabi allows himself to bottom out in you enjoying how tight and wet you are. You unsteady breathing as hurts a little more than anticipated.

“I’m going to fucking ruin you,” Dabi whispers as he leans down into your ear. “Be a good whore and ask me to fuck you,” He commands. Your eyes go wide. You can feel his whole cock inside of you as you pause to think whether or not to do so.

“Fuck me, please… Dabi,” You meekly force out. He lets out a groan as he gently rocks against you.

“Say it again.”

You swallowed, “Please fuck me, Dabi.” You were so embarrassed to be asking for such an action. Dabi rocked against you harder, every single time his head hitting harder against your cervix. You let out mewls as he picked up his pace; at this point you adjusted to his size and it was pleasurable.

Dabi pulled out and flipped you over as he thrusted back into you harshly. You let out a yelp as he just bucked your hips into you. Filthy words and phrases spilling out of his mouth.

“You’re mine.”

“You’re clenching so hard for my cock.”

“You’re such a slut for me.”

They came barreling out as he just continued to violently shove his cock deep into you. Over and over again. Another orgasm left your body as your toes curled and your back arched up.

“That’s it, cum on my cock you lil’ whore.” As if to increase stimulation he tweaked and pinched at your hardened nipples causing you to thrash and squirm as whimpers left your mouth. Your fingers fisted into the bedsheets and Dabi thrusted harder.

“Tell me who owns you, whore,” He demanded between pants. He was close. So, so close.

“You do, Dabi,” You sob out as he continues to pinch and knead your breasts.

“That’s fucking right!” His thrusts become sloppy, and he suddenly lets out a loud groan releasing into you. Riding out his high as you slowly get over your afterglow.

You both are panting hard, and he lays completely on you. His fingers run gently through your hair, you barely manage to make eye contact with him; he smirks as he notices your eyelids getting heavy and sleep enveloping you.

 *********

Your eyes slowly open blinking a couple of times to adjust your surroundings. There is a dull soreness between your thighs, actually every part of you felt sore. You weakly sit up as you look down to see that your dressed in different clothing. Your fingers trail to your hipbone to feel a new set of panties were put on you, and you were in a big t-shirt; unfortunately, you had no bra on. You rub your eyes as you look down and see a chain around your ankle. You lean over to slightly pull at it; you sighed in defeat.

The door opened and you looked up to be met with the eyes of your captor.

“Good afternoon, doll…” He stated casually. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Afternoon?”

“Ah yes, you were asleep for roughly about eighteen hours,” Dabi answers as he walks in with some items in both of his hands. Closing the door behind him with the back of his foot, “I suppose I should have taken into consideration that your sister did say you were sleep deprived and that you were indeed a virgin.”

You silently watch as he sits beside you and opens a water for you handing it to you, “I can’t have you dehydrated either… Also, I need you to take this,” Dabi rambles as he hands you both the water and a small pill. Your eyes look back up at him with a suspicious glint.

“I don’t think you want kids right now,” Dabi smirks as he looks down at the pill.

Oh… it’s a plan B.

You nod in confirmation as you obediently take the pill and swallow it down with some water. You drink some more of the water realizing your more parched than you thought. He lets out a chuckle. You were still trying to wake up, and it doesn’t go passed his mind he could easily fuck you right back to sleep.

“Why am I still here?” You question. “You took my virginity, isn’t that enough?”  You inquire further.

He hums contemplating on how to answer, “Because you’re my property… It’s pretty simple actually… Date your dumb sister for about a month… well a month was the plan, but that didn’t work… and then I knew she would send you because she’s prideful and stubborn like that,” Dabi finishes.

“Wait. Wait. We skipped chapters, Dabi… you’re making it sound as if you had met me way before you met my sister. We were never introduced to one another till after y’all started dating.”

“Hm… Oh, right. I knew you before I knew your sister, but you didn’t know me…” Dabi explained as if it was completely normal.

“But that doesn- “

Dabi raises his hand to cut you off, “Enough questions, doll. Don’t inquire too much, I don’t like it… I need you to eat,” He says as he hands you some food in your hand. His thumb reaches over and gently grazes your cheek wanting to desperately fill your tight little cunt with his cock again, but he knows you need a small break.

“Gigi said you horrible at aftercare…” You whisper more to yourself, but he hears.

“Ah. I take care of my property, doll… but try not to piss me off, I will have to discipline you in ways you won’t enjoy,” Dabi warns. You take a bit of your warm food as you just nod.

“Now say it for me… that you’re my property…” Dabi demands. You swallow your food as you looked up at him. You didn’t want to, but it would be wise to not piss him off while you’re in no condition to fight.

“I’m… I’m your property,” You shakily finish. Dabi smirks and leans down placing a kiss on your forehead.

He knew you didn’t believe it, but he was going to get you to a point where you do believe it. That you’re his property.