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plaidbooks · 4 years ago

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Everyone Deserves Love chapter 12

A/N: This chapter is more filler; just hitting some show/canon-plot points that are important to the characters, namely Rafael’s grandmother and Olivia adopting Noah. The next chapter will be more plot based, I think!

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Tags: mentions of death, alcohol/vomiting, smut, spanking, p in v sex, nipple play (only lightly)

Words: 4k+

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @mrsrafaelbarba @averyhotchner

Interstate 95

Wednesday, February 11th. 4:05pm

“Yeah, I’m on my way back to the city right now,” Devon was saying into the Bluetooth speaker of the car; the phone call she was on was displayed on the radio, audio coming through the car’s speakers.

“Good, because Barba’s having a rough time right now. Family problems,” Olivia replied, voice tight. Devon knew the broad strokes of what was going on from her rushed phone calls with the counselor—she had a hard enough time trying to talk to him at all while undercover, and he didn’t like bringing up personal problems during their clipped conversations, instead trying to stick with lighter topics, and whispering how much they missed each other, loved each other. But she knew something was troubling him. She grilled him until he finally mentioned that he was trying to have his mom help convince his abuelita to move into an assisted living home, and it was not going well.

“Thanks for the heads up, Liv. I’ll go straight to his place,” Devon said, smiling. She figured she could order them some dinner from Barba’s favorite Thai place, sit him down, and cuddle until he was feeling better.

Flanagan’s Bar

Wednesday, February 11th. 7:48pm

Devon burst through the bar’s door, eyes scanning the room quickly before settling on the familiar back of her boyfriend. She blew out a sigh of relief. She had made it to his place hours ago, only to find it empty. She sent a text to him while she drove to the courthouse but heard no response. The courts turned up empty, as did his office, Carmen, who was just leaving herself, saying that Barba had left early for the day—family emergency. Devon had switched to calling the man, but he wasn’t answering, letting it ring and ring until it went to voicemail. Heart in her throat, Devon started going to all of his favorite places that she could think of, calling Olivia to ask her if she or any of the detectives had heard from him, to no avail. Liv, just as worried as Devon, put out an APB to all units. Almost immediately, an off-duty cop responded back, saying that Barba was sitting at Flanagan’s Bar, drinking like a fish. Devon was a little upset with herself for not checking there first, hurrying to the bar and telling Liv to call off the alarm.

She walked in slowly towards the ADA. She wasn’t mad at him, quite the opposite; for him to be acting like this, she knew he was hurting, and bad.

“Is this seat taken?” she asked gently, a wave of déjà vu hitting her.

Barba turned to look at her, eyes bleary, movement slow and unsteady. “Dev?” he whispered. This was the first time they had seen each other in weeks, and Barba wasn’t quite sure if it was her, or just a drunken illusion.

“Uh huh. Come on, let’s get you home,” she said, taking his empty glass out of his hand and putting it down on the bar. She waved the bartender down, asking for the tab. Her eyes widened when she saw how much he had drunk. She paid, thanking the bartender, and scooped to help Barba stand. She never knew him to get drunk, not like this, and it worried her.

Once outside in the fresh, chilly air, Barba stood up slightly straighter, as if the cold helped sober him a little. Then, he turned towards the building and vomited. Devon rubbed his back comfortingly, whispering “let it all out, baby.” Once finished, she loaded him into her car, shooting a quick text to Olivia that she found him, had him.

They rode in silence, Devon letting him sober up, Barba leaning his too-hot face against the cold window, eyes closed. Hopefully, no one saw him in front of the bar, Devon thought ruefully; she knew how important his reputation was to him, his job.

“It’s all my fault,” Barba whispered, his breath steaming against the window. Devon waited to see if he would continue, but it seemed like that was all he would say.

“What happened, Rafi?” she prompted softly. The words hung there in the silence for a long while, long enough that Devon thought he may have fallen asleep against the window. Finally, he spoke into the silence, his watery voice slurred, strained.

“Mamí found abuelita dead in her bed this morning. It’s my fault; she always said she wanted to die in her home, and I was the one trying to move her. I killed my abuelita…” he continued to speak in mumbled Spanish, words Devon couldn’t make out, but what sounded like a hushed prayer. She glanced over briefly and saw wet streaks trailing down his cheeks.

Her heart strained in her chest and she reached a hand over, taking his hand in her own. Thankfully, she was pulling up to Barba’s loft soon after; amazingly, there was an open space almost right in front. She stopped the engine, getting out and quickly coming to his side of the car, opening the door and helping him stand. He was unsteady on his feet, swaying back and forth.

“Come on, dear. Let’s get you to bed,” Devon murmured in his ear. She whispered how much she loved him, and how amazing he was; she knew that he’d most likely forget this night—they’d talk about his grandma tomorrow, when he was a little more sound of mind. Right now, she just wanted to assure him with how much she cared for him.

They made it over the threshold and back to the bedroom before Devon deposited him on the bed. She hurried to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water and a couple slices of bread—better than nothing on an empty stomach, and it would soak up whatever alcohol remained. She came back to find Barba sitting in the same position she had left him in, head lolling forward on his chest

“Drink this,” she instructed, shoving the water into his hands. She made sure he took it before she dropped to her knees, working on stripping his shoes and socks off. He obediently drank the whole glass. Devon stood, taking the glass and placing it on the nightstand and picking up the bread she had put there, shoving that into his hands. “Eat.”

Again, Barba obeyed, ripping chunks off with his fingers and popping them into his mouth. Devon worked around him, undoing his tie, forcing his suspenders off his shoulders, unbuttoning his shirt. By the time he finished the bread, he had been stripped down to an undershirt and pants.

“Up,” Devon commanded, helping him stand. He rocked for a moment on uneasy feet before he stood there. With deft hands, Devon undid his belt and shoved his pants to the floor. She moved behind him, pulling the sheets back before she was back in front of him, helping him sit back on the bed, then lay down.

“Sleep, baby. We’ll talk in the morning, okay?” she whispered, placing a kiss on his forehead.

“I love you,” he mumbled. “Sleep with…me?” His voice trailed off, already falling asleep. Devon smiled. She took the glass off the nightstand, refilling it in the kitchen, before replacing it within reach of him. She stopped to look down at him, a bittersweet smile on her face as his soft snores filled the room. She then stripped down to just her shirt and panties and climbed in next to him. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close in his sleep.

Apartment of Olivia Benson

Saturday, June 11th. 5:36pm

“To Noah Porter-Benson!” everyone cheered, wine glasses clinking. Devon smiled brightly at her best friend; Olivia Benson, a permanent mother! The adoption went through; Johnny D, Noah’s biological father, was dead, thanks to Detective Nick Amaro—though he took a pretty bad shot in the knee—and now Olivia and Noah could move forward with their lives. The group had broken up into smaller pairs, people milling about, chatting.

“So, what about you two? Gonna have kids some day?” the new detective, Sonny Carisi, asked Devon and Barba, eyebrows raising.

They looked at each other; they never really talked about it before. “Ah, I was never really interested in kids,” Devon said awkwardly, sipping at her wine. She was curious how Barba would respond.

“I could go either way, honestly. But I think I’m too old for kids, now,” he replied, smirking.

Sonny nodded in understanding. It was no secret that this Italian, Catholic man wanted a big family, but at least he was respectful of others. “That makes sense. Plus, I don’t think the world is ready for little Barbas to be runnin’ around.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, detective?” Barba said, eyes flashing.

“Let it go,” Devon smirked. Sonny stifled a chuckle, then was called away by Rollins.

“But what did he mean by that?” Barba was still asking, failing at concealing his smile. Devon laughed.

“Sometimes you can be…a lot,” she grinned at his mock offended face.

“Oh? Care to explain how I’m ‘a lot’?” He moved close, hand on her hip and pulling her to him. “I’m going to be ‘a lot’ more than you can handle after this party,” he whispered before he moved away, a dark gleam in his eyes. Devon swallowed, ignoring the heat in her face, and the heat going between her legs.

She moved across the room, heading to Olivia right as she finished her conversation with Fin.

“Congratulations, Liv,” Devon said, pulling her friend in for a hug. They held each other for a long time, remembering the years they had spent together, all the hardships that they had overcome to get to here.

“We deserve this,” Olivia whispered into Devon’s ear. They pulled away and smiled at each other. Devon finally looked away, eyes drifting across the room. They found Barba’s green ones, him somehow knowing that she was looking to him, and locking to hers. He shot her one of his small, sweet smiles, one that was meant for her and for her only.

“Yes, yes we do,” Devon replied, feeling like she was going to burst with all the love in the room, from her boyfriend to her best friend, to all the SVU detectives that she could call her friends…her family.

They mingled for a little while longer before Barba was practically dragging Devon out the door, pulling her insistently by the wrist. Devon giggled, saying goodbye and another rushed congratulations to Olivia before following her boyfriend out of the apartment. They made it a couple steps down the hallway before Barba had pushed Devon against the wall, kissing her deeply. Devon smiled, pulling him closer to her.

“Eager, are we?” she asked, laughing. His hands moved to her hips, pinning her there.

Barba pulled back, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You just look so damn delicious in that dress,” he whispered back, attacking her neck with his teeth, soothing the sting with his tongue.

Devon stifled a moan. “Come on, before the others catch us.”

“Who cares if they do?” he commented, but reluctantly, Barba peeled himself off her, hand clasping around her wrist and pulling her towards the exit. The ride back to his place took forever. Barba sure didn’t help things as his hands played with the hem of Devon’s dress, rubbing up and down on her thigh, moving up higher and higher on every stroke. His other arm was around her shoulders, hand resting on her neck, thumb caressing her cheek. Devon focused on her breathing, trying to keep from squeezing her thighs together, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure building there. She had a firm hand on Barba’s knee, gripping him with white knuckles. From the grin on his face, he was quite enjoying the effect he was having on the agent.

Apartment of Rafael Barba

Saturday, June 11th. 9:05pm

Much like at Olivia’s place, they made it to the hallway outside of Barba’s residence before he had pounced on her, one hand on her hip, the other pinning her wrists above her head. Their mouths had crashed in a fight of tongues and teeth, rough and passionate. Barba eventually moved to leave sloppy kisses down her jaw before grazing his teeth along her collarbone.

“Fuck, Rafi…” Devon whined, trying to move her hips, but he held her down.

“I’ve wanted you all damn night,” he murmured against her skin, flicking his tongue out to taste her. She felt him grind his hardening cock against her center, making her moan.

“Take me then,” she whispered into his ear. Barba groaned, dragging her away from the wall and finally to his front door. He fumbled with his keys, finally unlocking the door, Devon barely waiting for him to close it behind him before she was kissing him, hands curling through his soft locks, tongue pushing into his mouth. Barba moved his hands to her ass, squeezing the soft flesh, causing her to yelp. Laughing, Devon wrapped her legs around his hips, allowing Barba to carry her towards the bedroom, his mouth biting and sucking deep bruises into her neck.

Barba walked to the edge of the bed, waiting until his legs touched the soft fabric before he fell forward, gently falling on top of Devon. She released him from her legs, allowing him to stand and shed his sweater, then his shirt. He held a hand out to her, and she took it. He pulled her to her feet, gave her a soft kiss, then spun them around so that he was sitting on the bed and she was standing in front of him.

Knowing what he wanted, that he loved watching her strip, Devon moved slowing, letting her hand drift behind her, clasping the zipper to her dress. She unzipped it slowly, using her free hand to hold the front of the dress, not letting it fall off her. Not yet. Plastering a playful smile on her face, she turned slowly, so that her back was facing him, before she let the dress fall. She heard Barba’s sharp intake of breath as he saw the bright red, lacy lingerie underwear perfectly wrapping her ass, like it was a gift specially wrapped for him. She looked over her shoulder at him, his lust-blown eyes indeed on her ass before slowly roaming over her hips, back, and finally resting on her face. He spun his finger in the air, motioning for her to turn.

Devon smirked, stepping forward out of the dress, though away from him, hips swaying, and his eyes snapped back to her ass, his hands unconsciously clenching the bedsheets next to him. She could see his cock twitch in response, even with it covered by the fabric of his pants. Chuckling, she finally turned to face him, red, lacy bra matching the underwear, damp spot obvious at her crotch.

“Come here,” he commanded. It came out as a growl, voice fully primal, dark with lust. Devon obeyed, swaying her hips as she came to stand in front of Barba. He grabbed her by the hips and brought her forcefully down to sit in his lap, legs straddling his. She groaned when his rock-hard cock rubbed against her soaked panties, her hips grinding against him in response. He kissed her roughly, one hand pulling her hair gently, the other moving under her bra to play with her breast, teasing and pinching a nipple. Devon arched her back, pushing into his hand, moans swallowed by his hungry mouth. She reached down, pulling at his belt, fumbling to undo it, along with the fly on his slacks.

Barba’s mouth moved to her neck, leaving more marks in its wake. He reached behind her, unclasping her bra expertly and tossing the article of clothing to the side. He picked her up, then, and flipped her onto her back, laying on top of her, mouth moving to her chest. He spent his time, licking, biting, sucking. While his mouth was on one nipple, his hand would be playing with the other. Every now and again, he would grind into her, never in a rhythm and always catching Devon off guard, making her moan loudly. He took a nipple into his mouth, suckling particularly hard, and rocked his hips against her roughly, and Devon cried out, seeing stars.

“Did…did you just cum?” Barba asked in shock. He stopped his ministrations, raising his head to look deeply into her eyes, making sure she was alright.

Devon could feel her face heat in embarrassment. “I, uh…I think so, yeah….”

She looked into back into his face, not sure what to say. But then the most arrogant smile crept across his face. “I didn’t know I had that effect on you, Hermosa…cumming before I even touch you there….”

She rolled her eyes, huffing. “Cocky asshole.” His eyes flashed at the title, smile widening. But then, it faltered.

“Did…did you want to continue?” he asked, eyes searching hers for any kind of hesitation, of discomfort.

Devon smiled softly at him, at his concerns. “Please,” she whispered. He leaned in and gave her a soft kiss, full of love, before he continued his onslaught of her chest. He didn’t stay there long, though, as he continued moving further down her body, kissing her flushed skin as he went. His fingers played with the waistband of her panties as he leaned back on his haunches, looking up at her through hooded eyes.

“I’d say you’re fucking soaked for me, Hermosa, but I think that’s an understatement,” he purred, pulling her underwear off and flinging them to the side.

“You know, Pride is a sin, Raf—ohh,” Devon moaned, throwing her head back as Barba leaned forward, tongue swirling around her already oversensitive clit. Instantly, he had a finger in her, slipping a second one in easily. He pumped his fingers, curling them, while he sucked and licked at her clit. Devon gripped the bedsheets, filling the bedroom with noises, uncaring who heard. When he added a third finger, hitting her g-spot, and sucking particularly hard on her sensitive nub, Devon came hard, his name a prayer on her lips. He continued fucking her through her orgasm, Barba lapping up everything she had to give him. He withdrew from her, licking his fingers clean, letting her breathing return to normal.

“God, you taste divine,” he commented, licking his lips.

Devon watched him through heavy lids. “And you are absolutely sinful,” she replied. He grinned darkly, looking every bit as sinful as he knew he was.

“Look who’s talking; calling me sinful while looking like this,” he gestured at her naked form, sprawled on the bed, covered in a thin layer of sweat.

“Maybe you should get over here and cleanse me then, sir,” she said, looking up at him innocently through her lashes. Barba groaned before climbing on top of her. He loved when she called him ‘sir’; it turned him on more than anything else.

He kissed her roughly, then whispered into her ear, breath hot against her skin, “confess to me what you want, and maybe I’ll give you absolution.”

Devon reached down, rubbing his hardness though his pants. “Well, for starters, I want you to lose the clothes.”

“Ask and it shall be yours,” he murmured, undoing his pants and pushing them along with his boxers off, kicking them to the floor. He hissed when she grabbed him, hand wrapping around his length and giving him a few strokes, thumb spreading the pre-cum around the tip.

“I want you to take me from behind,” she whispered against his mouth. His cock twitched in her hand and he groaned at her words.

“Fucking sinful,” he murmured before grabbing her wrist, stopping her hand. “Get on your hands and knees.”

Devon loved when he ordered her around, a fresh feeling of heat rushing to her core. But she also loved being a brat. So, she took her dear, sweet time, flipping over slowly onto her knees, but keeping her back straight, so that she was only kneeling. She reveled in the strong hand that appeared between her shoulder blades, shoving her forwards, barely getting her hands up in time to catch herself. She yelped in surprise at the swift swat on her ass, Barba letting the sting sit there for a moment before he was rubbing it away.

“Do you like that, Cariño?” he asked, hands roughly kneading the soft flesh of her ass.

She pushed back against his hands. “Yes, sir. Spank me harder, please.”

“Begging already?” But he obliged, bringing his hand down on the other cheek, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to feel the sting. Devon moaned in pleasure. He gave her a few more smacks before he was rubbing the pain away again, his hands soothing the hot, red skin.

“Please, sir. Fuck me,” she whined, wiggling her ass back at him. He didn’t respond, just chuckled darkly. She felt the bed sink down as he got on the bed behind her. He used his fingers first, using two to tease her entrance before pushing in, stretching her. Devon dropped her head, until Barba used his free hand to wrap in her hair, pulling her head back up, though not painfully. He pulled his fingers back out, causing Devon to whine at the loss of contact.

“Ready?” he asked. He always asked, every time.

“Ready,” she confirmed. Barba used one hand to hold her hips stable, the other hand guiding the tip of his cock to her tight entrance. He moved slowly but didn’t stop until he was fully seated in her, Devon moaned at the feeling of fullness, of completion. She adored how he felt inside of her, every ridge, every vein dragging against her in the perfect way.

Barba waited until her walls were no longer clenching around him until he started moving. He started at a slow, tortuous pace, both hands going to Devon’s hips, pulling her back against him as he thrusted forward, pace soon increasing. The room quickly filled with the sound of skin slapping, moaning, and the squelching sound of Barba pounding into her faster and faster. He finally reached down, pulling Devon’s torso up so that she was flush against his chest, hands groping her breasts roughly.

“God, you take my cock so good,” he grunted in her ear. One of his hands trailed down her body, fingers rubbing at her swollen clit. He leaned down to bite into her neck and Devon cried out, screaming Barba’s name as she came for a third time. Barba pumped into her, dropping her torso against the bed, Devon too tired to even attempt with her arms. He gripped her hips, hard enough to leave bruises, and thrusted until he was cumming deep inside her, Devon’s name groaned into the silence of the bedroom. He collapsed on top of her, cock softening inside of her. They stayed like that for a moment, panting. Barba finally pulled out, headed to the bathroom. He cleaned himself before bringing out a clean, wet washcloth for Devon, who had flipped onto her back, but otherwise hadn’t moved. He spread her legs open and went about cleaning her.

“I love you,” she whispered into the room, still breathless.

Barba smiled softly, running the washcloth over her soft skin. “I love you, too, Cariño.”

Devon sat up, taking the washcloth from him, and taking it to the bathroom for him. She was in there for a couple more moments before she came back, finding Barba lying in bed under the sheets. She climbed in next to him, laying her head on his chest.

“Move in with me,” he said suddenly.

Devon chuckled. “Where’s this coming from?” It wasn’t that she was against the idea—quite the opposite, actually—but they had never discussed it before now.

“We hardly see each other as it is; what’s the point of living at different places? You’re normally here, anyways,” Barba started. “If…if you think that we’re moving too fast—”

“No, not at all,” she cut him off. “Hell, we lived together the first four months we knew each other. And we’ve been dating for almost a year now. If anything, we’re moving kinda slow….”

“Soo…” he trailed off. “Is that a yes?”

Devon raised her head to look at him in the eye. Barba had that look in his bright, green eyes; it was the look where he was pretty sure he knew what her answer would be, but that doubt in his mind was still there.

“Of course, that’s a yes. Do you even need to ask?”

He seemed to mull this over, his eyes rolling in mock thought. “Generally, yes. It’s kind of expected. But I’m still happy with the outcome.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek, which Devon pulled back, turning to kiss him on the lips sweetly.

#rafael barba x oc #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfic #everyone deserves love #edl #everyone deserves love chapter 12 #edl ch 12 #fanfic #my writing

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sm-entertain-me · 6 years ago

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Love Drunk (M)

Requested by @sarangtae-vante: Hey! You’re usually Taehyung customer is back 🤣 Hmmm this time I want something like you did have drunken mistake in the past you meet each other 10 years end up doing it again but this time you ask him out at the end. Make it as creative as possibly if you know what I mean ;)

Contains: Kim Taehyung x (f) reader, adult language, angst if you squint real hard, smut, mentions of alcohol, mentions of buzzed BUT CONSENSUAL sex, unprotected sex, nipple play, exhibitionism, creampie.

Synopsis: Your past comes back to haunt you five years later and presents the same opportunity as before, only this time you’re even more willing. (Italicized text indicates past)

“Fuck you feel so good,” You keened as your arms were wrapped tightly around his torso, subconsciously bringing him forward to feel every inch of his body on yours. His body was so warm and glistening with sweat, a euphoric sight to your bloodshot eyes that remained hooded throughout the whole endeavor.

The only response you got was the strangled moan before he latched his lips to the juncture of your neck, his hands holding your hips down firmly so he could pound even harder into your dripping walls. His teeth ran over the supple skin of your neck, dragging his tongue over the abused skin to make you feel a little better since he’s been known to get carried away when his inhibitions have been lowered.

“Scream my name baby,” He demanded as his hands gripped your hips to keep them from stirring wildly beneath him, pushing himself completely into you only to draw himself out and redo the whole process. He was completely wrecking your pussy as his hips rammed against yours, creating an embarrassingly lewd sound with the aid of the squelching of your dripping pussy around his thick cock. Just the sound was enough to force your orgasm to rip through you in a huge wave, cumming hard around him as you moaned his name loud enough for the remaining party-goers to hear from the halls of Hoseok’s house party.

It was that day that you knew you had made a mistake. You made a mistake drinking the small amount you had that night. You made a mistake allowing yourself to be so carefree about your raging adolescent hormones. You made a mistake fucking Taehyung.

Nearly everyone knew how the situation played out between you and Taehyung on that infamous night. Hoseok had thrown a house party because he got a new apartment and wanted to invite the whole neighborhood, ultimately inviting you and Taehyung since you were his closest friends. Sure, you had a thing for Taehyung and thought he was super attractive, you just didn’t know how much you were willing to show it towards him until the alcohol came into play.

So yes, you two fucked. But the bond that you previously held with Taehyung had shattered since you were under the impression he was a single man. He had failed to tell you that he was dating some girl in your math class for about two months at the time, the whole school hearing about how you became such a homewrecker and ruined the relationship. Your closest friends even abandoned you in your time of need and Taehyung didn’t seem to care that he lost you or his ex-girlfriend. He just wanted to get his dick wet.

And now here you are, back at Hoseok’s house with a cup of alcohol in your hand as you celebrate his academic achievements of graduating college with full honors in music and fine arts. Luckily for you, Hoseok was one of the only friends you managed to keep in touch with after the whole shit show went down, and for that you’ll be forever thankful to him.

“Having fun?” Hoseok asked as his words had slurred a bit, having to grab onto the edge of the counter to keep his body upright. You smiled into your solo cup of alcohol as your eyes focused on his face, almost losing your composure at how bloodshot his eyes were, glossy from all the alcohol consumption. You were glad Hoseok was having such a good time, he deserved it.

“Not nearly as much fun as you are,” You joked, nudging at his side with your elbow as you offered a small chuckle. Hoseok nodded at you with a the biggest grin as he looked around the kitchen, on the hunt for more booze and snacks. Even though you were pretty certain Hoseok was good and plastered at this point, you weren’t one to control his liquor since he nearly ripped your arm off last time for taking his bottle of soju away. You’re lucky to still have your left arm after all this time.

As Hoseok was searching the cabinets aimlessly, he turned at your slightly to look at your outfit properly. You were dressed in a red crop top and some black ripped shorts, nothing too snazzy. But you did know you looked good enough to eat thanks to the deep v line of the top and how the shorts seemed to accentuate your most valuable asset. Still, Hoseok clicked his tongue and went back to the cabinet as he muttered out just loud enough for you to hear, “Just go out at fuck someone already… Isn’t that why you’re dressed like that?”

Truthfully, yes, but you would never admit it to Hoseok. You hated when he was right. So you feigned a look of anger as you ignored his comment, your eyes searching the crowd in Hoseok’s sizable living room. Couples were grinding on each other and basically fucking if it weren’t for the thin layers of clothing separating them, drinks were being held in the air as some of the contents would spill over the people and drip to the floor. And that’s when you saw him.

A taller man with a slight build to him, his hair a messy brown mop atop of his head, touching the tops of his eyebrows, his chiseled jawline being accentuated by the low lights of the living room while his eyes were trained on the crowd, searching for someone. Kim Taehyung. His face seemed to light up when he laid eyes on you, a small smirk creeping on his lips as his eyes never faltered from you despite holding a one sided conversation with a random girl who tried for his full attention. Oh no, Taehyung’s attention was all on you and it wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.

You quickly averted your eyes to your hands that were now shaking, refusing to look back up until you were certain he was gone. You were not going to go through this again. It took you five whole years to rebuild your reputation with the people you went to school with, five whole years to prove to people that you were not the homewrecker they made you out to be, five whole years to show your worth that never deserved to be tainted in the first place. You didn’t want to succumb to Taehyung again.

But you could admit that the way his leather jacket hugged his biceps made him look like sex on a stick, and how his eyes left you breathless when you first locked eyes from across the room. Fuck you hated your hormones.

After a couple minutes of contemplation, you decided to leave the safety of Hoseok’s kitchen and delve into the crowd of writhing bodies in an attempt to find your other best friend, hoping he could keep your mind off of Taehyung and his devilishly soft lips. Your eyes searched the crowd and finally found Jimin as he was leaning against the wall and talking with Yoongi, laughing loudly as he continued to sip on his drink, far away from Taehyung. Perfect.

“Jimin-ah!” You shouted as you sauntered over to your friends, a smile plastered on your face as you got closer to their figures. Jimin’s eyes immediately shot up at the sound of his name and finally found your head bobbing through the crowd, a smile equally as big as yours forming on his face as he held his arm out for a side hug.

“Y/N! How are you?” Jimin asked as he squeezed you tighter with the hand that wasn’t holding the red solo cup of whatever drink Yoongi decided to inflict upon his dongsaeng. You’ve learned over the years to never let Yoongi touch your drinks because he was quite heavy handed with the alcohol part, but you would let him make your drinks occasionally if you were looking to get completely plastered. Maybe tonight would be one of those nights depending on how long Taehyung stays.

In the middle of your conversation of future plans, you watched Jimin’s eyes focus on something to the side of you, his eyes widening the widest you had ever seen them go in a very long time. His Adam’s apple even seemed to bob uncomfortably as he instinctively let his grip on your hip get tighter, protecting you from something. Of course, you wanted to see what he was getting so worked up about, so you turned and were met with the image of Taehyung making a B-line straight for you, the same smirk on his face from earlier.

“Hey guys, Y/N. Hoseok told me you guys would be over here and here you are,” Taehyung said, emphasizing the “you” as he looked right at you, winking quickly at the end of his sentence. Again, you felt Jimin’s hand grip tighter on your waist to keep you at his side, knowing how much pain you went through when your reputation was tarnished with one drunken mistake.

“It’s okay, Jimin. I’ll handle it. Take Yoongi with you to make sure Jeongguk is doing alright, I don’t want him to get too carried away again,” You instructed as you carefully peeled Jimin’s hand off of your waist, letting it hang down at his side as you looked into his eyes with reassurance. Jimin’s eyes quickly shifted between you and Taehyung, ultimately admitting defeat as he nodded and took Yoongi away with him, not wanting to create a scene for both you and Hoseok’s sake.

For some reason, you thought it was a good idea to allow Taehyung to take you to one of Hoseok’s bedrooms that wasn’t currently in use by other couples. As you were sat down at the edge of the bed, you kept your eyes trained on the nervous expression on Taehyung’s face, taking his hand and pushing his dark brown locks back as he took a deep breath. You could tell he was struggling with what he had to say to you, but you had a feeling of what it was by the way his neck vein bulged out from his increasing heart rate.

“Look,” Taehyung said, his voice cracking briefly from the nervousness. “I just want to say I’m sorry for basically fucking up your whole entire life five years ago. I know I should’ve told you I was taken, but I was a little buzzed and feeling really good and I really liked how you would joke around with all the guys. And my god, you looked so fucking fine that night…” Taehyung’s eyes then went from pure nervousness to darkened lust and desire as he turned to face you completely, his eyes focusing deep into yours as the smirk found hi yet again, “Just like you look right now.”

The look in Taehyung’s eyes had your insides turning to mush, had your heart racing so fast, and had your hands shaking as you struggled to keep yourself together under his intense gaze. He was practically eye fucking you as his eyes would flicker from your eyes to your lips, traveling along your jawline until he met your plump lips that were shining with saliva as you wet them unintentionally. Taehyung wanted you, he craved you.

Fuck it, you thought to yourself as you lunged at him, your lips crashing against his as you kissed him roughly, all of your pent up sexual frustrations being unleashed in that one kiss. Although Taehyung was taken aback at first, he quickly got comfortable as his hands wrapped around your hips, pulling you closer to him until your chests touched. The longer the kiss went on, the louder your moans got at Taehyung’s lips molded against yours perfectly, Taehyung taking your lip in between his teeth and dragging across the skin to hear your whines against him.

Taehyung managed to get you to the head of the bed as his hands held your wrists down to your sides, him settling in between your hips to grind his erection into the fabric of your shorts. You could feel him smile against your lips with every frustrated sigh of him restricting the movements of your wrists, Taehyung continuing to exact every part of control over you as he sucked your lips until they were red and swollen.

When Taehyung pulled his lips off of yours to breathe, he looked down at you with blown wide pupils and his mouth hanging wide open, panting against your face, “I need you, I need you right now.”

You took this as an opportunity to slip one of your wrists out of Taehyung’s grip, taking your hand and feathering it through his hair before pulling back sharply, “Then take me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice as he basically ripped your top off, his face diving between the valley of your still clothed breasts and pressing his lips against the tops of your breasts. Taehyung sucked on the skin of your breasts languidly, taking his teeth against the skin occasionally to hear your high pitched moans of pleasure, encouraging him to leave hickeys all over your pristine figure. He was determined to mark you as his so that no man would ever look at you the same.

“Ahhh, fuck!” You cried out as Taehyung had stripped all the rest of your clothing off as well as his, him leaning down and taking your pert nipple into his mouth to swirl his talented muscle around the excited nub. Taehyung would deliver a combination of small kitten licks and harsh strips, pushing your nipple forward and feeling it pebble along his tongue. You were becoming a mess at the sensation as you thrashed beneath him, only to be stopped with his hands holding your wrists down so he could continue to wreck you with just nipple stimulation.

With another wanton moan, Taehyung pulled his lips off of your nipple and gave a small kiss to the tip as he looked up at you, wiggling his eyebrows, “All that from me sucking on your tits? If I would’ve known that would have you screaming, I would’ve done that so much sooner.” You were about to retort when Taehyung backed up abruptly, grabbing both of your hips and dragging you along the bed until the bottom of your ass hit with Taehyung’s thighs, “But now, I’m stuffing that tight pussy of yours.”

You almost cried out in pleasure as Taehyung wrapped your legs around his torso, sliding his cock deep inside of your yearning pussy. Your hands came up to grip at his biceps as he bottomed out in you, you lip catching in between your teeth to keep your moans to a minimum since you weren’t sure how soundproof these walls were going to be. Upon seeing you trying to be quiet, Taehyung leaned down quickly and stole a kiss from you to distract you, “None of that. I want you to let everyone know who fucks you this good, understood.” Nodding was all you could do as Taehyung’s hips began to move.

The way Taehyung’s hips would move against you constantly had you arching your back off of the bed, holding onto his arms for dear life as his hips slammed against yours at a brutal pace. His cock was deliciously thick as he kept your walls parted around him, gliding in and out of you with no resistance as he kept you dripping for him. Because of his thickness, it didn’t take much for him to brush against your best spot, your grip on his arms getting that much tighter as you keened louder for him, begging him to keep going.

Taehyung watched as you almost fell apart, but thought he could make it that much better as he reached behind him to grab your right ankle and unwrapping the appendage from being tightly wound around his waist. Instead, Taehyung threw your leg on his shoulder while he kept the other one tightly around his waist, allowing him to lean forward and fuck himself even deeper into your aching walls. At this point, you knew you were no match as your nails dug so deep into Taehyung’s arms that you were sure you drew blood as he continued to slam his pelvis against you.

“Come on baby, cum all over this thick cock. Show me how good I make you feel when I fuck you like this,” Taehyung demanded as he leaned forward again, your foot being pushed so far back that you were almost touching the headboard behind you. Taehyung’s cock was dragging so nicely against the tightest spots of you that you completely fell apart for him, arching off of the bed completely and feeling your walls clench around his thickness as a bead of sweat rolled down your forehead.

“Oh yes, that’s it baby. Cum all over my cock. Cum for daddy,” Taehyung instructed as he continued to grind into you, trying to chase your high with his own as his eyebrows began to knit together. With the way your walls were completely swallowing his cock, there was no way he would last more than three minutes tops. “Oh fu-fuuuuck! Y/N!” Or maybe sooner than that.

Taehyung’s cum painted your walls in thick ropes, leaving no part of your pussy dry as you could feel it leaking out of you, but Taehyung had other plans. As he came down from his high surprisingly fast, he slipped out of you and quickly took his fingers in between your folds to collect his cum and plunged it deep inside of you, forcing you to keep it in. “You’re keeping all of this in you just to remind you how good I fucked you,” Taehyung teased as he pulled his fingers out of your walls and giving himself a taste, his eyes rolling back at the taste of both you and him on his finger.

“I think I’m in love,” You heard Taehyung say suddenly as he lay on his back, breathing heavily still as he looked up at the ceiling. The sudden profession left you hearing your heartbeat throughout your whole body, feeling frozen in place as you lay next to him to process what he said.

Taehyung noticed your silence as he turned to face him, a look of pure seriousness on his face as he admired the small pout on your lips, “I’m being serious, Y/N. I’ve always thought you were beautiful, even five years ago. I was planning on breaking up with her before the party since I knew you were going to be there, but the timing wasn’t right. I know it doesn’t fix anything I’ve done, but I’m hoping you can give me a chance… A chance to be with you.”

It did take you a minute to process everything. Jimin already expressed his disdain for Taehyung the minute he saw him approaching you, Hoseok is indifferent about the whole thing since he let Taheying come out tonight, and Yoongi doesn’t really seem to care either way. Sure, Taehyung gave you a lot of pain, but that wasn’t really his fault. It was neither of your faults, actually. It was the alcohol’s fault. And it might be the alcohol’s fault again as you gave him a formal answer.

“I would love to.”

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governingmouse · 6 years ago

Note

5 Times The Love

5 Times the Love. { No Longer Accepting }

SEND “5 TIMES THE LOVE” AND I WILL WRITE A DRABBLE ABOUT THE FIVE TIMES MY MUSE FELL IN LOVE WITH YOUR MUSE.

i. In the garden among the roses, a modernSocrates and Plato – a resurrected Dante and Virgil – begin the lesson plan. Prisonwas Governor Ferguson’s palace to rule. Overseeing the work of the women,Governor and Deputy stroll at an even pace. Vera doesn’t struggle to catch upwith Miss Ferguson. She’s learning. While Joan is on the topic of correction,Vera listens in her currently enamored state. The breathy way in which shespeaks lures her in like bait on a hook. It’s a piercing sensation. She’scultured and knowledgeable, capable of quoting the classics and spill thetruths of a long game. She is everything Vera wants to be.

Admirationand reverence tangled together like the lethal snare of vines. Without the gloves,Joan pinches a silken, red petal. She looks over the garden with thesatisfaction of a creator. The petal shrivels from her touch and falls to theground. Her Deputy swears that Joan grimaces – at least, a twitch of her lipscould be perceived as such. Joan lets go, only to snap her fingers at Vera. Theroses in the garden are corrupt, tainted like the inmates.

‘ Vera, are you listening? ‘

Blinking, she jolts back toattention. A deep flush of embarrassment tints the tips of her ears and hercheeks. Vera feels hope. For herself, for the women. She mistakes it for love. Seducedby reason and order, a crush manifests.

‘ Yes, Guv’na. ‘

With a nod, Joan walks and Verafollows.

She thinks it’s love.

ii. A wolf surprises a lamb sore from growingher own set of teeth. On her doorstep, Governor Ferguson holds up a bag of takeaway. Shelooks surprisingly domestic in that earthen, near sheer blouse and a satchelover her shoulder. It’s a sight Vera could easily become accustomed to. Shefeels a twinge in her chest and steps aside to grant Carmilla entry.

Thefood waits on the counter while Vera rushes in to take care of her mother { it’sbecome a curse for her, an ugly word }.Mum spits out her medication and gripes about Vera’s Florence Nightingale act. Verafears that she is an impostor, a fake, and everyone knows it. Guiltily, hershoulders slump down.

Seatedbeside Rita, Joan intervenes. One malevolent entity grapples with another. Shesqueezes Rita’s frail hand riddled with varicose veins. Joan leans forward,whispers a mystery that will be buried alive with her.

Wilted,Vera leans against the doorframe. Watches the exchange. Her heart pounds wildlyin her ears. A worn smile slips into place. She looks at Joan as if she’s thenext fucking messiah

She knows it’s love.

iii. Another midnight debrief. Another midnighthour where she wants to scream for more, more, more. Vodka tonics replace mint leaves and mojitos. Ice clinks.Condensation clings to the glass. Every single time, Vera can’t fathom how Joanisn’t drunk. Maybe her height’s a factor, maybe it’s her Russian blood, butVera’s too hammered to theorize.

Thistime, she picks up on the slight slur that accentuates Joan’s voice. Shegiggles and sets down her empty glass. Joan loosens her tie. Vera’s blouseopens, exposing her throat and collarbone. The Governor looks at her as if she’sgoing to flay her, eat her alive, and suck the marrow from her bones. Verafeels heat, strange and confusing. She wants it to happen.

A firm, strong hand squeezes herthigh. She slides forward and scoots toward the edge of her seat. Wetting herlips, she aspires for a chaste kiss, but receives more. More means teeth and tongue and gasping for air with Joan’shair falling into her face, shrouding her like a veil.

She believes it’s love.

iv. A silken scarf with a pattern of butterfliescovers up her scrawny neck. Vera checks in at the front desk. The nurse asks ifshe’s family. How she wants to laugh at that. Instead, she smiles and shakesher head. Says ‘no.’ This isn’t how she expected the governorship would fallinto her lap. Despite burning down half of Wentworth, despite the razorbladebetrayal, she visits Joan at the psych ward.

Shesits at the round table like it’s a skewed version of the Last Supper. Purged ofall feeling in a catatonic state, the medication masks Joan Ferguson. It’s hardto look at, harder to say. Vera squirms in discomfort, she’s trying to stay forall the battles, but this is somehow worse than when she visited Fletch. Veratries to think about what Joan is thinking - really thinking. Joan wears an expressionless expression as theportrait of vacancy.

“I fought your battles. I did whatyou asked of me. I learned everything you chose to teach me. It wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.”

As she reaches across the table, herhand covers Joan’s. Curiously, this ghost of Joan looks at the hand, but doesn’tmake a cruel, jabbing remark with a sharp tongue. She would have preferredthat. It’s easier to comfort stone. This is the danger of falling in love witha switchblade.

Veradoesn’t expect a response. She expects glassy eyes and parted lips. Herface reddens from the pain of holding back tears. Instead, she chooses to steelherself. Her anger swallows her. She retracts her smaller hand. Curls it into aloose fist.

Come back to me, shewants to plead. Show me the way.

“I’ll beback tomorrow… to check on you.”

Sheleaves behind the scent of her perfume, but not the betrayal. That stillstings.

She swears it’s love.

v. Baptizedin a river of fire, Governor Bennett runs Wentworth with compassion unlike herpredecessors. Despite all her wrongdoings, she doesn’t stray far from protocol.With Vera’s former mentor on remand, Joan Ferguson has yet to be laid to earth.So, it’s an old game of cat and mouse. To Carthage, a devil of a woman comes.She only lives to inflict pain.

No morally superior position exists within this circumstance. She wantsto wish her away – to will her away from this prison. Tension radiates likeheat from Vera’s body. Alone, under the cover of night, she approaches the unitwith a letter in hand. Addressed to Shayne Riley and scribbled with a no. 2pencil, the letter has a weight to it. It crumbles within Vera’s grasp. The dimlighting of the isolation unit gives her a waxen complexion. She feels the tugin her chest, her heart, her soul. And realizes that the feeling is still there.

There is something refined yet syntheticabout Joan. Some things remain constant: Joan is always pale, Joan is alwaysscheming. Her vantablack hair greys at an alarming rate. Her mane falls intoher face like some god-awful fury. She plans her revenge. Plays the long gameand patiently awaits the opportune moment to dismantle Vera Bennett.

Fromprofound misunderstandings, they invented stories: always a matter of who hurtwho. The riot, siding with Westfall { re: Westnull }, disappoinTment, Jianna’sghost. Neither woman can skirt around the fact that they’re inherently flawed. Allthis collateral damage resembles a haphazard rollercoaster ride. She hides thehurt and lets it manifest as something new. Through the anger, she still lovesher.

“Youcan be so cruel,” Vera says and the words shine in her eyes like cutdiamonds.

Vera feignsdisinterest, holding up the letter before ripping it to shreds. She does it toelicit some reaction – any emotion – out of Joan. It’s akin to prodding ahornet’s nest or cutting yourself in the deep, blue sea where a great whitecatches a trace. Vera maintains that glare though her insides twist and she wantsto vomit. The fragments fall to the ground like snow. Joan stands. Her shadow packsa punch, dragging across the smaller woman.

“You’llregret that.” Joan hisses with acidity infecting her once dulcet voice.

“Youcan’t touch me,” Vera counters. She buries her hands into her pockets to hidethe way they tremble. Things will escalate: Joan will be put in Proctor’s unit,Joan will try to kill Bea, Joan will succeed, and then what? The documentensuring protective custody will be neglected for the long game they both play.

You didn’t think you administered her deathsentence.

Warpedand twisted, that’s the danger of falling in love with a switchblade. Fucked uppeople do fucked up things, Vera isn’t expelled from the fact. Maybe she wantsto keep Ferguson with her, by her side, either as a reminder of better days, aspenitence, or as a reminder of the profound depth to their relationship.

Verachooses not to dwell on it, not now. Joan won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.She walks away. Leaves her in the dark.

She calls it love.

#governinglion #cw: long post #{ no joke - this took me months to write }#♔ Slotted ( ASKS ).#♔ ALWAYS WITH YOU. // Freakytits (Joan & Vera).

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