#people where standing in their yards and waving

[ifithasafandomimapartofit]

Firefighters are the best of us I think

[trifoliate-undergrowth]

So I’m in a deeply red incredibly conservative state.  I ran a pride month 5k awhile back. The usual group of 3 protestors with an incredibly loud bullhorn showed up to yell at us about how trans people are mutilating themselves and AIDS is God’s judgement and we’re a menace to children etc. etc. etc. But they were vastly outnumbered by runners and volunteers. One of the first race announcements was that they hadn’t ordered enough T-shirts for the amount of people who ended up running, and would have to reorder, so anyone who wanted another race T-shirt should sign up now.

We’re all used to the protestors by now, they show up everywhere. We just ignore them. Interacting with them just encourages them.

I hadn’t realized how early the race date was this year compared to previous years and hadn’t prepared as much, and there were a lot of hills; not to mention there was some confusion as to the race route which resulted in the announcer referring to it post-run as a “4-mile 5k” (they are supposed to be about 3.5 miles. One guy ended up in an entirely different district of the city from where the race route was and still finished first.) I ended up walking a lot of the race, but I finished it, and did do a fair bit of running.

I had top surgery a few years ago but I’ve only gotten comfortable running shirtless this year as body fat redistribution happened. I had been trying to decide if I wanted to run shirtless or not before the protestors showed up and started yelling, then I was like ah. I will run past the transphobes shirtless like a human middle finger. And that is what I did. was wearing delightfully garish rainbow shorts I found at a thrift store and my pink triangle necklace.

Some Americorps volunteers were directing runners at one of the more confusing junctions, I high fived one and panted that I had just joined Conservation Corps. The sound of angry bullhorn shouting faded almost immediately behind us, and there were rainbow flags hanging in several of the yards we ran past throughout the route.

As in previous years, a lot of tough incredibly fit beautiful older people, mostly women, breezed past me during the race. One jogged up even with me with an encouraging “what would you do for a klondike bar!” I wasn’t sure how to reply to this and didn’t have the breath to express that I did not want anything thick or creamy at that moment, but what did come out was “you did remind me that there’s beer at the finish line.” Another lady who walked and jogged near me for awhile near the middle-latter half of the race talked a bit and complained that one of the volunteers organizing the race hadn’t set up the “water” table with fireball shots that she did for some other races and we just got a regular water and gatorade station!

Coming back to the finish line I was handed a flag and ran past long rows of cheering people. Around the corner the protestors were still lurking, but were mostly silent now. Apparently they had gotten worn out by just standing there and not running. As I passed the bullhorn guy shook himself out of his torpor enough to give a halfhearted “is it a man? is it a woman? who knows anymore?” I passed him and the sound of cheering, and then the 80s music (I remember Blondie and ABBA) they were blasting closer to the finish line.

Once most of the runners were back there was a fun run for the kids. A couple of the older ones had also run the 5k (I just know the protestors were awful to the poor guys ughh) but all of them made a lap around the parking lot and got handed medals. All of the adult volunteers and participants spread out around the middle of the parking lot so that there was someone cheering and waving flags for the kids along every step of the route.

There were free snacks, water and beer courtesy of our sponsor [brand redacted]. There was also non-alcoholic “beer”, which I thought was nice to see, I’d been thinking there was a heavily alcoholic element to a lot of local queer events. I drank a lot of water and ate some food before getting a free beer, which still hit me pretty hard after the run. While I was hovering around the refreshment table a big handsome butch came up next to me and I noticed a faded tattoo on her arm of a chain, each link a different color of the rainbow.

I went to put something down in my car just as the protestors were starting to leave, and realized that they were moving on a course that overlapped with mine as I walked to my car. I decided I wasn’t going to stop or veer out of their way and just see what they did. As I got closer they seemed to be talking about how we had definitely totally noticed that they were leaving (no one had.) They noticed me coming towards them and suddenly got quiet, avoided eye contact and skittered out of my way. Ha.

I stumbled into the nearby fundraiser to cool down and sober up in the air conditioning before I left. They were playing girl in red, rupaul, that girls/girls/boys song by Panic! at the disco, and that Taylor Swift song “You need to calm down” that some people on this site complained was cringe. The lady next to me sang along to “shade never made anybody less gay.” I bought a baseball hat.

It’s easy, I think especially if you’re very online and not very active in your local community, to start feeling like there’s no queer community in your area and we’re outnumbered by people who hate us. Unless you live in the middle of Westoboro Baptist territory that’s generally not true. I cannot stress enough how incredibly conservative and red my area is. We’ve got like 3 very loud people with nothing better to do who bother us at every event, and large amounts of people across all demographics who show up in support. I’ve been thinking about this post by @headspace-hotel about not being able to find stuff online and this is a slightly different thing but yeah. If you don’t know what there is in your area, you don’t know what you’re looking for or where to find it when searching online. If you search “is there queer stuff happening near me” google is going to shrug and recommend you Products And Services that it can Sell You. When I moved back home after spending some time in a much more blue state (but which had much less of a sense of community--I think it’s the way we band together down here when we know just what the stakes are) I felt like I was going to be the only trans person in the state, then someone mentioned to me that there was a local private facebook group for trans people to share personal posts and resources with many hundreds of members. There are more of us that aren’t on facebook. The Facebook group, though, introduced me to many more resources I hadn't known were in my area.

Get outside. Find some sort of local queer event and ask around. There will be other queer people. There is very likely something you’re interested in already happening or people who would love to work with you to start it if not. Even if you’re in a very red very rural state, you’re not alone, and chill or neutrally polite people vastly outnumber the few assholes, it’s just that the assholes are very loud and especially if you’ve been marinating in overwhelmingly toxic online environments it can feel like they’re everywhere. They’re not. Don’t give them that power.

The current legal landscape is terrifying and needs a lot of work but it doesn't reflect lived experiences. Get outside, find your local community, show up to in-person events if at all possible, it’s so encouraging.

[darkbluekies]

OMG SILAS WEDDING? YES PLZ THAT SOUNDS SO GOOD

Saying 'I do' is like a death sentence

Yandere!mafia OC x reader

Sumamry: Silas gets you to marry him

Warnings: threats, mentions of murder, guns, forced marriage, dubcon kiss?, violence, mentions of punishment, trauma from said punishments, possessiveness, jealousy, family drama

Word count: 3.5k

Things have been awfully quiet these last days and you've noticed a certain spark in Silas’s eyes. You didn't think much of it before seeing his second in command — whose eyes are normally dead — light up. But no one has talked to you.

You’re sitting in the window, looking out over the front yard and the houses down the street. You’ve seen school children come home from school and their parents join them with grocery bags. They’re living so … normally.

There's a knock on the door, which makes you even more confused. Silas doesn't knock on his own bedroom door. His second in command walks in.

“Y/N, you're going to come with me”, he says.

“Why?” you question.

“You will see. Come.”

You hesitate. Silas has told you countless times to never listen to any of his men, never walk somewhere with them. The only one you should listen to is Silas, the only one you should ever walk somewhere with is Silas. He has tested you before to see if you would leave the house with any of his members … and you’ve been greatly punished for it.

But Silas’s trusts his second in command … you know that he would never betray Silas.

“You don’t need to be afraid”, the second in command says and waves at you to come over.

“I don’t want to be punished …”, you whisper.

He takes a step forward. You press yourself closer to the window. It’s another trap, you’re certain of it. Silas is standing outside the room, waiting for you to take the bait. This is the final level, to see if you would listen to the man he trusts the most, one that you think that you can listen to. You shake your head quickly.

“Y/N, you can trust me”, his second in command says and puts his hand on his chest. “I swear on my mother’s life that I won’t get you into trouble.”

“Has Silas told you to get me?” you question carefully.

“Yes.”

Slowly, you get down from the window and walk over to him. He puts his hand on your back to guide you out of the room, into the corridor and down the stairs. Your heart is beating loudly against your ribs. What if the second in command is lying?

“Where is he?” you ask as you make your way down to the first floor.

“I am taking you to him”, the second in command says calmly.

You stop and turn to him. “Please promise me that this isn’t a test, and that I’m not going to get punished.”

“Y/N, I’m not lying to you. Silas have asked me personally to drive you to him.”

“Why?”

“You will find out once we get there.”

“Okay …”

You follow him out to a car. He holds the backseat door open and lets you jump in.

“Put on a seatbelt or else Silas will kill me”, he tells you.

You pull the seatbelt over your body and clicks it into place while the second in command walks around the car to sit down in the driver’s seat. You watch the houses as you drive by.

“I really thought that this was going to be one of those tests …”, you admitted hesitantly while scratching your nails. “I really don’t want to go down to the basement again.”

“I understand that.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Depends.”

“Don’t you ever feel bad for … what happens in the basement? To any of the people unfortunate to end down there?”

“Not necessarily. Most of the people that gets thrown down there has done something to deserve it. You see, Y/N, Silas never hurts anyone without a reason. If he could have it his way he wouldn’t hurt anyone, but people are stupid enough to cross and challenge him.”

“What would he do without it? Isn’t that how you’re supposed to survive and climb the ladder in this world?”

“He would do his business and trading without hurting anyone. In a perfect world, people pay on time and doesn’t try to steal territory. No human likes hurting anyone else — unless they’re psychopaths, but that’s rare. Even the most gruesome killers have guilt.”

“But how can he hurt someone he loves? I could never do what he does to someone I love.”

“I won’t meddle in your relationship, because that’s not my business, but things aren’t black and white.”

“I wish things could be colorful for once.”

The second in command sighs and turns on the radio. You listen to the music as the landscape outside the car swishes by. You don’t recognise anything, except for a supermarket chain that you used to shop at. Soon, you start to think that the silence between you two feels sickening. You can’t stop thinking about what awaits you once the car stops.

“I know that you’re not allowed to actually conversate with me, but can we just … talk about anything?” you sigh and shrug while trying to find a suitable conversation topic. “Could be about the weather.”

“The weather?” the second in command scoffs and smiles in amusement. “Fuck no.”

“How far is it left?”

“Around fifteen minutes.”

“You don't talk much normally, don't you?”

“I talk when I have important things to say. Otherwise, why should I? I get paid to act, not to talk.”

“I don’t get paid at all.”

The second in command tugs at his smile. “You still have it better than the majority of us.”

When the car finally stops, you look around to see that you’re by the beach. The second in command opens the door for you and helps you out. You look around and feel your heart sink when you see where Silas is, and what’s surrounding him. Candles and flower petals. You stop right in your tracks as you go stone cold. You’ve feared for this day.

“What are you stopping for?” the second in command asks and gives you a small push. “Come on.”

You notice a gun in his hands. On stiff, frozen legs you stumble towards Silas. The sand feels heavy under your feet. Silas smiles and takes your hand.

“I think you can guess what I’m going to do”, he says cheekily and takes up a small, black box out his pocket.

You shake your head, but Silas doesn’t seem to notice — or care. He gets down on one knee. You try to pull your hand out of his grip, but he tightens it.

“I don’t think words can explain the amount of love I feel for you”, he starts.

It’s not love. It simply can’t be.

“I know that I want to spend my entire life with you”, he says, looking up at you in awe.

“N-No … wait-”

He opens the box. “Will you marry me?”

You can’t breathe. You know that if you answer no, you might get to taste the gun in the second in command’s hands and you’ll definitely end up in the basement. But you can’t answer yes. If you do, you will be bound to Silas for all eternity. You will have to wear a ring claimed by him, take his name, officially be his. You will be known as his husband/wife forever.

“Y/N, I think that you better want to answer ‘yes’”, he whispers warningly, “for your own sake.”

You hesitate, going through every possible scenario. Every scenario where you decline him ends in physical and mental pain — not only to you, but probably to your family as well. If you accept his proposal, you will trap yourself deeper into his spider web and get tortured for the rest of your life, but you won’t piss him off. You can’t win, no matter what you choose.

“Okay …”, you whisper in defeat. “I will.”

Silas’s face lights up. He shoots up from his knee, wraps his muscular arms around you and devours your lips with his. He pulls your hand to him and places a ring on your finger. The ring is made of a shimmering gold and multiple glistening diamonds. You can’t help but stare at it.

“Congratulations, boss”, his second in command smiles. “You’re going to have a marvelous wedding.”

“Let’s go to a restaurant to celebrate this”, Silas smiles and start to walk with you in his arms. He gives his second in command a tap on the shoulder. “You too.”

The man smiles and follows.

You eat at his favorite restaurant, but you can’t seem to swallow any of the food. A lump has formed in the back of your mouth, preventing anything from passing it. Silas conversates with his second in command, only noticing your sulking after finishing his own food.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he asks, touching your cheek. “Are you not hungry?”

You shake your head.

“That’s okay”, Silas says softly and caresses your shoulder. “Do you want to take it in a togo-bag?”

You nod.

That evening when you get back home, you’re allowed to sit at Silas’s place at the end of the long rectangular table in the dining room with your heated food. You can hear Silas’s men move through the house. Silas and his second in command are in his office to plan the wedding.

You notice that someone is about to sit down on the first chair of the long side of the table. A man you have never spoken to before.

“Hi, care if I keep you company?” he asks.

Too shocked to answer, he takes your silence as ‘yes’ and sits down. You glance at the open door towards the hall and swallow thickly.

“You shouldn’t-”, you try to tell him, to warn him about Silas, but he cuts you off.

“I heard that you got engaged today”, the man says slowly and looks down at your ring. “I guess that I have to say ‘congratulations’.”

“Yeah … thanks …”, you mumble dreadfully. “But you really should-”

Your sentence is cut off by the man in the chair getting ripped up by a harsh force. You hadn’t heard Silas and his second in command leave the office.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Silas questions and pushes the man away from you. “Do you have a death wish?!”

He signals for his second in command to get rid of the man. Silas sighs heavily, runs his hand through his black hair and sinks down on the same chair he had ripped his worker from. You avoid his eyes.

“Are you okay, little thing?” he asks and you can hear how he’s trying to stay calm. “Why didn’t you tell him to walk the fuck away?”

“I tried”, you mumble. “Twice.”

“He knows better than to talk to you. Seems like you’re even more irresistible now that you have a ring on your finger.” He sighs and rubs your back. “You’re mine, and soon they all will know.”

Days go by. Silas’s second in command takes you to try dresses/suits, but for the most of the time you’re in your bedroom, waiting. Every day takes you closer to your wedding day, that horrifying moment.

And finally, one day, it’s time. Silas’s second in command has taken you to a venue where you’ve gotten your own room to get ready in, but when the time is due for you to walk out and say your vowels, you refuse to come out of the room. There’s nothing you want less than to get married in front of people that you hate. You can’t imagine anything more humiliating.

“Y/N, come on”, the second in command says as he opens the door. “Everyone is waiting!”

“I don’t want to do it!” you burst out, full on panic.

“Silas have spent a lot of time and thought about this for you. He has even invited your family. Would be a shame if they came here for nothing, don’t you think? Don’t you think that they want to see you again? Don’t you want to see them one last time?”

You give the second in command a glare. He walks over and grabs your arm, helping you up on your feet.

“Come on”, he says. “We don’t have all day.”

He’s going to walk you down the aisle to deliver you over to Silas, as planned and try to pull your arm away from the second in command, but his grip on you tightens. The second you get into the venue and see the rows of chairs filled with Silas’s men, his family and your family, you stop, eyes tearing up when seeing your parents. Realization hits you again. You’re not only getting married, you’re also saying goodbye to your old life — a life that you will never get to live again. The second in command drags you past all the guests, over to Silas. You stare at your family, taking them in. Haven’t they changed since last you’ve seen them? Aren’t they looking older? Do they think that you’re different? Do they still recognize you as their little boy/girl? Silently wishing that they would stand up and object to everything happening, you continue your way down the aisle, towards Silas. Surely they have to understand that you’re not doing this by your own will? You would rather be at home with them.

You feel how the second in command moves you over to Silas. The ceremony seem to go by in a fuzzy daze. Words are being said but you're not sure who says them. You're brought back to reality when you hear Silas say ‘I do’. Your first instinct is to pull yourself away from him, but he doesn't let you.

“Your turn, Y/N”, he whispers with a tilted smile. “Tell everyone how you're giving yourself to me.”

Time seems to have stopped. You look out over the audience, at your poor family. They look nauseous. You wonder what kind of threats they have been told to keep them silent in their seats.

And you notice someone else — someone you never thought Silas would invite. Ares. You know that he hates his little brother with all his might, why would he invite him to his wedding? The day that's supposed to be his best day ever. You guess that the older couple by him are Silas's and Ares's parents. You have never met them before, but it's clear who Silas’s has gotten his face from. He's a spitting image of his father. Ares resembles their mother more.

Silas opens up his blazer to show you a gun, which you don't have to doubt is loaded.

“If you — or anyone — tries to object in this marriage, Y/N”, he starts with a dark voice, dangerously close to your face to make sure that no one will hear, “they'll die. Do you understand that?”

You nod unnoticeably, too mortified to do anything else. You understand him very well, and you believe him.

“You better say ‘I do’”, he whispers, voice even darker. “You belong to me. You are mine. Do not ever forget that.”

“Promise me that they won't get hurt”, you whisper as quietly as you can.

He takes your hand.

“I promise”, he says and kisses your knuckles harshly. “Say it.”

You clear your throat to make sure everyone will hear you, so that you don't have to repeat yourself. Giving yourself to this man once is enough.

“I do”, you say.

Everyone but your family and Ares claps. You're puzzled by the look on Silas's parents faces, as if they're not happy but still want to support their son. The rest of the cheering guests wear bright smiles, happy for their boss. You don't dare look at your family.

A new, bigger and more flashy ring gets placed on your finger and you put Silas’s new ring on his with shaking hands. You try to pull the collar of your clothing to the side, to be able to breathe.

You've kissed Silas’s before, but never like this. Never in front of so many people. You don't have time to think before his lips are on yours and you accept it, knowing that you've already signed your life away, refusing to kiss him won't change a thing.

The afterparty goes on without you. You don’t want to see everyone celebrating you when you never want this in the first place. You are allowed to go back to the room where you had gotten ready and sit in your solitude. You can’t help the tears running down your cheeks in silence. What have you done? Could you have done something differently? No, you couldn't. If you did, your family would get hurt. Instead, you’ve trapped yourself in a venomous spider’s trap.

You hear the door open and hurry to wipe your tears.

“Uh … hi”, a familiar voice says.

You turn to watch Ares close the door behind him. You freeze. If Silas finds him here, your wedding will be even worse … and frankly, after everything Ares have done to you, you don’t want to be alone with him either. You stand up and try to leave the room, but he stops you.

“Wait, let me talk to you”, he says.

“Don’t touch me”, you hiss.

He pulls his hand back and sighs.

“It shouldn’t be you and Silas”, he says in defeat. “You didn’t want to marry him, I saw that. We can run away now and you’ll never have to see him again.”

The proposition alone makes you scoff.

“And why would I want to go anywhere with you?” you spit angrily. “You’re as sick as Silas! I don’t want anything to do with any of you. It’s bad enough that I’m stuck with one … I don’t need the other. Leave.”

Ares twitches his black eyebrows and pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Alright then. Guess I’ll have to force you with me.”

“If you touch me I will scream.”

He gives you a glance as if he’s weighing the outcomes. In a quick motion, he grabs you, trying to pull you over his shoulder. You scream and hit him, causing enough commotion for the door to swing open and for Ares to be ripped off of you. Your vision is blocked by someone dressed in black.

“Get the fuck away before I kill you”, you hear the man in front of you say. “I mean it.”

You expected it to be Silas, but it’s his second in command.

“Touch my boss’ wife/husband again and I’m breaking your neck”, he warns and rolls up his sleeve.

“Why don’t you get the fuck away and let me do what I want to do, hm?” Ares responds harshly.

“You’re really asking for it, aren’t you? This is a wedding, don’t be stupid like usual, Ares.”

“I’m stupid? Have you seen my brother?!”

“Leave, Ares. I don’t want to cause your parents any more pain.”

“What’s going on?”

Silas’s voice makes you want to crawl into a hole and never come out again.

“What have you done, Ares?” Silas asks coldly.

“You’re just going to assume that I’ve done something, huh?” Ares growls.

“Why would my man waste time talking with you unless you’ve done something completely idiotic?”

“I heard Y/N scream and found Ares trying to kidnap them”, the second in command says and reaches back a hand to make sure that you’re still there, or to console you.

Silas turns his face towards his brother, his black eyes burning with anger. Before Ares has time to defend himself or throw an insult, Silas has hit him. Hard. You watch how blood seeps from his nose.

“Don’t think that you can ever try to take them from me”, he warns. “They’re mine. See the ring on their finger? Belong to me. I have all the legal rights to say that now. Don’t fucking think a thing.”

Silas puts his arm around your shoulders.

“The only one that gets to touch them is me, so put your greasy little hands away before I cut them off and force you to eat them”, Silas warns him coldly. He turns to his second in command. “Let’s go home, I don’t want to sabotage the after party.”

You’re pulled along out to Silas’s car.

“I should have known that this wedding would have drama”, the second in command sighs. “Why did you even invite Ares from the start?”

“Because I wanted him to see Y/N giving themself to me”, Silas smirks. “To annoy him.”

“You’re supposed to be older than him.”

“Oh shut up, let me have some fun.” He turns to you, growing softer. “Are you okay, little thing? Did he hurt you?”

You shake your head. If anything, you hurt him when clawing at him.

“Good”, Silas smiles and caresses your cheek. “Let’s go home.”

In the car, he takes your hand, inspecting the ring with a cocky smile.

“Now you're officially mine”, he whispered, looking at you with intense, dark eyes. “Forever. And there's nothing you can do to separate us.”

[ghouldtime]

Neighbor! König

Probably can't write a full series for this but for now HEADCANNONS

He initially moved to a residential/suburban area because of his need for privacy. He couldn't stand being in barracks provided because it's too close for comfort and there's just too many people and not enough room

He grew up in a rural village which he would really, greatly prefer but his job doesn't allow him to have that amount of space and no neighbors. The upkeep would be too much

While he doesn't have the full amount of space he'd like, it's enough to keep him busy when he's not deployed and grant him the piece of mind he needs

When he's home and in his 'residential/domestic' mode, he's not wearing the mask. That's a quick way to signal him out and lets be real, it sets off red flags. He'd rather not have the police called on what looks like a very suspicious man, thanks.

Not wearing the mask is also a good way for him to come off of 'work' mode, where he can just be himself, no covering that up.

Plus it's for safety. He knows he's taking a risk by living off of base and he's a man with many enemies. Wearing something trademarked to him in an unprepared environment is a dumb idea and is a great way to end up six feet under

His front yard is pretty minimal but he has a lovely garden in the back. Half the reason he settled on the house that he did was because of the mature trees in the backyard that reminded him of home

When you moved in, König - as much as he didn't want to, made the move to introduce himself. The main motivator wasn't out of politeness but rather necessity. Since he's away for so long, he gives out his personal number and email just in case something happens with the house

He's genuinely surprised when you react positively and even ask if there's anything he'd like you to do when he's away (like collecting his mail, watering any plants)

He's so stumped by that, not having expected such hospitality, that when you ask for his name as you enter in his contact info, his brain short circuits. He tells you it's Kevin, because it's the first K name he could think of that wasn't distinctly Germanic.

Also he doesn't want to bring anyone into his work life. He moved out into the suburbs for a reason. König is who he is on field, that's his callsign. And, once again - safety reasons. If he went around, telling people who he was, he's asking to get another target painted on his back

Though you two initially don't really talk much, you still wave when you see him or wish him a good morning. Even if he's blunt and usually brusque, you never mind it and always try to make polite conversation while respecting his boundaries and need for space

Seeing each other in the mornings becomes routine. You're up for work while he's up tending to his garden (it's better to water early morning, he insists)

He's slow to warm up but when he finally does, he's surprisingly talkative

He really opened up to you because you showed express interest in his garden and flowers alike. You always listened to his advice or would ask specific questions to get him talking and when it came to explaining things, he could talk and talk and talk

The moment he was won over though was when you asked if he'd like help weeding his garden. Taking care of it was therapeutic to him (as tedious as it might be) and wanting to actually come over and spend time with him, even if it was a "chore" made him feel something that day

Being allowed into his yard, his botanical sanctuary, is as great of an award as you can get

He finds it significantly easier to talk when his hands are busy and when there can always be things to talk about (mainly his plants, he's so proud)

You learn of his plants, the fact that he's a private contractor (he conveniently leaves out the military part), and he'll start to actually talk about himself instead of avoiding questions for once

If it weren't from exertion reddening his face already, he's sure he would've turned as red as his tomatoes when you inquired about the off handed comment about his miniatures collection

No one had ever asked him about them - or actually taken them seriously. He's used to people making fun of such hobbies

But not you, you embraced him

Seeing your face light up with amazement and hearing your specific comments about the details he made in replicas of things such as his hometown and some of the fairytale stories he liked as a kid officially had his heart feeling the warm, fuzzy feelings that he usually ignored

The next morning, he was already planting your favorite flowers in his front yard 🪻

(Part Two)

(Part Three)

[munsonsmixtapes]

Baby

Evan "Buck" Buckley x shy!probie!fem!reader

part one part two part three part four

summary: you and Buck finally decide to take your relationship to the next level after he reads an excerpt of a smutty book to you in a bookstore

word count: 5.8k

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you smack it) oral (f and m receiving) Buck receives a handjob

You and Buck entered the book store hand in hand. Most of the books he read were for school and when he got older, they were either help or had to do with his profession. He never really thought about doing it for fun. But seeing your collection made him want to get into the kinds of books you read. 

He wanted to know what made you gravitate towards those above all the others. What was so good about the romance, the sex on page. Especially the sex on page. He had wanted to read some of your books when he had come over, but you had always stopped him because it embarrassed you.

“So where do we start?” Buck asked, rubbing his hands together as he looked around the store, the entire place filled with shelves and shelves of books. Before he could take it all in, you grabbed him by the hand and pulled him towards your favorite section, Buck following blindly since he was happy to follow you anywhere. 

“Just follow me,” you told him. 

“Happy to,” he smiled even though you couldn’t see him. You were too focused on where you were leading him to and he looked at you with nothing but love in his eyes. 

You kept hold of his hand as you stopped at the romance section, your eyes lighting up as you looked at all of your options. You knew exactly what you were there for, but were now overwhelmed by all of the new options. 

You reached for one of the books you had come there for and after only a few minutes of looking, you were now holding five books. Buck just stood there and watched you in admiration, loving that you had a hobby that you enjoyed that much. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t think there was anything he loved that much. Well, except for spending time with you. That, he had really grown fond of. 

As he stood there, watching you, a lightbulb went off. Standing next to you with his hand in yours, he was slowly starting to realize that he was falling in love with you. And hard. He decided that he didn’t want to be with anyone else. You were it for him. And thinking about spending the rest of his life with you made the tightness in his chest go away. All of the anxiety that seemed to linger completely disappeared when he was around you.

He had never felt that way about anyone before. Well, he had, but he always pushed it down, completely ignoring it. Falling in love absolutely terrified Buck. People always left him, so he tried his best to push down his feelings so he didn’t feel them. It was a kind of vulnerability that was foreign to him. But for you, though, he was ready to dive in head first. 

He could see it all, a proposal, a wedding, a cute little house with the white picket fence where your children and the dog you were going to inevitably have ran around the yard while the two of you sat on the front porch sipping from mugs filled with coffee. God, he was in deep and for once, he didn’t even care.

“Buck?” You asked, waving your hand in front of his face. He shook his head, completely zoning back into the real word. How long had he been out? His head snapped to you, your soft hand landing on his cheek. He immediately reached up and rested his hand on top of it, leaning into your touch, letting his eyes close. 

“Hm?” He asked, falling back into his dreamy state. 

“You okay?” You asked, your thumb moving back and forth across his cheek. He nodded, deciding that he was absolutely perfect, that this was exactly what he had wished for for years. Someone who cared about him in return. Because apparently that had been too much to ask until now. He gave and gave until he had nothing left and everyone always selfishly took all of his affection and ran. But you wouldn’t have. He was sure of it. 

“I’m perfect,” he replied, opening his blue eyes, staring into yours. 

“Can I take those for you?” He asked, referring to the evergrowing stack of books in your hand. You handed them off to him and he took them, holding them so gently as if he was cradling a baby in his arms. 

“You don’t have to do this, Buck. Seriously,” you told him, your voice getting softer. 

“That was the whole point of the trip, baby,” he reminded you. The whole reason why you had been there was to celebrate you being with the 118 for six months. And maybe Buck just wanted an excuse to spoil you, but he never would have told you that. 

“I just feel bad,” you looked down at the carpet you were standing on, but Buck quickly reached out and grabbed hold of your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. 

“I have to spend my money on someone, don’t I?” He asked, tilting his head in that adorable way that you had grown to love. 

“Fine,” you sighed. “But you have to get something too.”

“Nope,” he shook his head. “This is all about you. Did you still want this one?” He pointed at the one you had put back. You just nodded and Buck grabbed it and added to the stack before excusing himself to grab a basket.

You watched him make conversation with the woman behind the register that the baskets just so happened to be right by, feeling your heart swell. You loved seeing him interact with other people, the smile on his face becoming so infectious. He was just so sweet and kind that you couldn’t help but fall in love with him. You were in love with him. And the thing was, you didn’t want to stop it. 

You had the same bad luck in the romance department that Buck did. People just didn’t like how shy you were, how soft spoken. They didn’t like how you always wanted to stay in and read with a glass of wine as opposed to going out. But Buck, he embraced all of that, making you feel like you could be yourself around, something that had always scared you. He was slowly bringing you out of your shell but only on your own terms. He would never have forced you to do something that you didn’t want to, always telling you that it was okay to say no.

And when he told you that he was totally okay with taking it slow, you almost broke down in tears. None of your exes had ever been that gentle or patient with you. As soon as they found out that you weren’t going to put out, they hit the road, never wanting to speak to you again. 

You had had sex. Not as much as Buck, but you had a few times. You hated it every time, though. All of your partners had been selfish, taking whatever they wanted from you, not even bothering to check in and make sure that you were enjoying yourself. So after that, you vowed that you wouldn’t do it again. You couldn’t. The thought of being intimate in that way terrified you. 

That was why you sought it out in fiction. You could get all the pleasure you needed without a partner. In the dark of the night with nothing but the words on the page and your vibrator to get you off. It was the perfect combination and you were sure to cum every time. There wasn’t anyone there to take advantage of you or critique you, telling you that you weren’t being loud enough and you certainly didn’t have to fake an orgasm.

But lately, your mind drifted to Buck, letting him be the new main character in your late night fantasies. You never would have told him, but he was the one you were seeing as the main male character in your books. You had become obsessed with the idea that you were flying through more books than you normally did, wanting to see what the fictional versions of yourselves were going to get up to. 

“Got the basket,” Buck smiled, holding up the thing that was now carrying your books. You felt your cheeks burn as if he could have known exactly what you were thinking about. It was perfectly normal to have been thinking about your boyfriend in a sexual manner, so you didn’t know why you were so embarrassed about it. 

“Where to next?” He asked and you grabbed his hand, heading to the part of the store where you knew the historical romances were. 

Once you got to the section, you scanned the shelves, unsure what you were looking for, but wanting something. Those types of books were always super smutty and that was what you were in the mood for. You needed something to feed off of with your fantasies and there was no way in hell that you were going to ask that of Buck. 

“Oh, I think my mom reads these,” he said, reaching over your shoulder to grab one that had caught his eye. It was a pirate romance, with two people embracing on the cover, a man and a woman. The woman was wearing a dress that barely covered her body and the man was dressed in a puffy pirate-like shirt that perfectly showed off his muscles. He was looking down at the woman like he wanted to devour her and Buck could tell that that was exactly what was going to happen in the book. 

He flipped through the pages and you felt yourself blush as you realized what he was looking for. He stood behind you, putting the book right in your line of sight. Your eyes skimmed over the page he had opened to and you wanted to get out of there, but he had his arms draped over your chest, pulling you to him. 

“Wesley’s hand slid into Ari’s underwear,” he whispered into your ear, his voice all dramatic as he read. “His fingers found her cunt with ease and he slid them inside her, causing her to-” You weren’t even paying attention to his words, suddenly feeling wet. You had felt that way around Buck more times than you could count, but you were able to get it under control. This time, though, it was different. You suddenly wanted him, resisting the urge to take him right there against the bookshelf. 

“God, they really don’t leave any detail out, do they?” He asked with a chuckle as he closed the book, putting it back on the shelf. Your eyes suddenly closed, imagining just what it would have felt like for him to stick his hand down your underwear and do exactly what Wesley had done to Ari. “I can see why people like it, though. It’s hot,” he shrugged and turned to you, squeezing your shoulder to get your attention. 

“You okay?” he asked and you immediately pulled yourself out of your fantasy, turning to him, seeing his blue eyes filled with concern. 

“I’m fine. I think I’m good here.”

“You only got five books.”

“How many did you want me to get, because that right there is already over a hundred dollars.”

“I told you that there was no spending limit. Didn’t you have a couple on your TBR that you wanted to get?” It made you smile that he remembered all of the terminology that you had taught him. 

“No, I think I’m good for now. I-I need you, Buck,” you said, stepping towards him and he closed the gap, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“I’m right here, baby.” 

“No, Buck,” you grabbed onto his shirt, fisting it. “I need you.” Oh. Oh. Now he understood. 

“Are you sure we should do this here?” He whispered. “Right now?” 

“We could always go to your jeep,” your finger ran along the hem collar of his shirt and a very flirty look appeared on your face. One that he had seen many times before, but never to that degree. 

“Y-yeah,” he cleared his throat, trying to hold back a laugh. He then pressed a brief kiss to your lips and took you by the hand before leading you to the checkout counter. 

He set the basket on the counter with a big smile and wrapped an arm around you as the cashier rang up your books. Now he was getting antsy, but trying his best to hide it. He would have been happy waiting if that was what you wanted, but now that you told him that you were ready, he was more than happy to take that next step with you. 

Buck paid for the books and held the bag in one hand and your hand in the other as the two of you head to his jeep. Your heart was pounding as you realized what you were about to do, but you were also really excited, knowing that Buck was going to be nothing but a gentleman. 

He sped down the street to the apartment building where you both lived and practically dragged you to the elevator where he pressed the button for your floor since you would get to your place quicker. 

He really hoped that no one would be coming in and he pressed his lips to yours, slowly backing you up against the wall. This kiss had been more heated than your other ones. There was more passion. He licked into your mouth as your hands trailed up his shirt, pressing against his abs as you pulled his tongue into your mouth, giving it a suck. 

You could hear a whimper in the back of his throat along with the ding of the elevator, letting it know that it had stopped on your floor. You backed him out of the elevator and into the hallway, the two of you only breaking apart to unlock your door. 

As soon as you were inside, the door closed with a slam and you both kicked off your socks and shoes before he backed you up against the island, helping you up onto it as he spread your knees apart so he could fit between them. Your hands pulled on his shirt but his rested on top of yours, his blue eyes boring into yours. 

“Are you sure you want to keep going?” He asked. Buck would have never forgiven himself if he had done something you had felt comfortable with. 

“Positive. I’m giving very enthusiastic consent.” 

“But just because you give it doesn’t mean you can’t take it away. Let me know if I do something you don’t like.” 

“And the same goes for you.” 

“C’mon,” he grabbed onto your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist before lifting you up from the counter. He then connected your lips, moving them together slowly as he carried you up the stairs to his bed where he laid you down. He hovered over you, so much love filling his eyes as he looked down at you. Your lips were so pretty and kiss bitten and your eyes were glazed over with lust and Buck didn’t think you could have ever looked more beautiful. 

He grabbed a condom from his bedside table and threw it onto the bed beside you before lowering himself down onto you. He kissed you slow and deep, as if he had all the time in the world as his hands moved up your shirt, grabbing onto your bare hips, his rough fingers feeling so good on your warm skin. You suddenly wanted them everywhere. 

He slowly removed your shirt and marveled at your breasts clearly seeing your hardened nippled through your thin bra. You were absolutely magnificent. He peppered your chest with kisses as his hands slid underneath you to unclasp your bra. Once it was removed, he let it fall to the floor and looked down at your bare chest, taking it all in. 

“Fucking beautiful,” he said, pressing a kiss between your tits before moving downwards, giving your stomach some love. You laid there, pliant under his touch, the whole thing already going much better than it had with any of your previous partners. Buck was so sweet and really seemed to care about how he was making you feel. 

His hands slid into your leggings and he slowly pulled them off of you, seeing the wet patch that was on your underwear as he did so. He then hovered his hands over your panties and looked up at you, as if to ask for permission. 

You nodded and a breathy “Take them off,” fell from your lips. Buck slowly removed them and spread your legs to get a good look at what he was working with. You were absolutely soaked and he was wondering just how long you had been holding that in. 

“Can I say something really quick?” you asked and Buck’s head snapped up to yours. 

“Anything,” he nodded, closing your legs as he sensed this was not going to be dirty talk. 

“I um-” you cleared your throat. “I can’t-I haven’t been able to-orgasm. At least not with a partner. So don’t feel bad if you can’t get me there, okay?” Buck was surprised by your words. He couldn’t believe that you were blaming yourself when not being able to orgasm wasn’t your fault. That was entirely up to your partner to get you there. 

“You know that’s not your fault, right?” he asked, lowering himself onto his knees in front of you as you sat up. “That was entirely up to them to make you feel good and they couldn’t do it. Did you not enjoy it?” 

“No,” you shook your head as your cheeks burned while also feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as you finally admitted it. “But I feel like if anyone could do it, it would be you.”

“Do you want to test that theory?” He asked, his flirty tone taking over again. 

“Yes, please,” you said, lying back onto the bed. He pressed a kiss to your knee and spread your legs again. He grabbed onto your thigh and straightened out your leg before peppering it in kisses as he moved up it, wanting to warm you up before he dove in. He did the same thing with your other leg before draping both over his shoulders. 

He then slowly inched his face closer to your cunt, giving you opportunity to back out if you wanted to. He then slowly pressed his face into it. You let out a gasp when his nose brushed it and your fingers wound into his hair as he mouthed your clit, sucking on the spot and feeling his dick getting hard as a whimper fell from your lips. He licked and sucked on the spot, taking his time, fully intending to give you the best head of your life. A moan escaped from your throat and you both paused, Buck pulling away to grin at you. 

“That’s it, baby,” he urged. “Just like that. You’re doing great.” He dove back in for more, wanting to taste more of you, but to also hear more of your delectable sounds. His mouth was back on your clit in a flash, licking and sucking some more, trying to not smile to himself as you continued to moan. He had you right where he wanted you and he had barely even done anything yet. He couldn’t wait to see how you would react once he was actually inside you. 

He moved lower, tonguing your slit, licking back and forth between the seam before going in with his lips, giving it a hard suck as his hands moved up to your thighs, spreading your legs wider to have more access to you. He then lightly grazed your cunt with his teeth and his ears perked up at your loud moan as your thighs pressed against his head as your ankles locked together at the back of his neck. 

Buck continued his movements, loving how hard you were pulling onto his hair, knowing that you were enjoying it just as much as he was. You tasted so good and he loved how quickly he was able to make you come undone. He bet you looked so hot, so beautiful as the noises came from your mouth, wondering what you looked like when you orgasmed. He bet you looked so good with your mouth wide open, sweaty all over, your labored breathing. He couldn’t wait to see it. 

He shoved his tongue inside you and couldn’t help but notice how tight you were, but he wasn’t going to comment on it. He didn’t want to embarrass you and certainly didn’t feel like it mattered. He knew you hadn’t been intimate in a while and fully intended on making you feel so good, so special. 

He swirled his tongue around and was convinced that you were going to pull his hair out with how hard you were yanking it, but he hardly cared. You were reacting exactly how he wanted you to. His tongue hit just the right spot and your back arched in pleasure as a scream ripped through you. 

“Buck, oh my god,” you screamed as you reached your orgasm, stars forming in your eyes, your vision going hazy. This was exactly what you had been expecting with your other partners. It was all you wanted and apparently it had been very simple since it hadn’t taken Buck long to get you there. But that was what had separated him from your other partners. He had actually cared about what you had wanted, what had made you feel good. 

“More,” was all you were able to say in a whimper between breaths. “Please.” His tongue continued to swirl around, on the hunt for another spot and by another moan, he could tell that he had found it. He then removed his tongue from you and moved back to your slit, trying to lap up every last bit of slick that he could find. He licked and sucked, eating up every last moan you were able to give up, loving how crazy he was able to make you with just his mouth. 

Another screamed ripped through you and Buck figured it was time to call it quits, pulling his face away from you and sitting back on his knees. He looked up at you, feeling his cock getting hard as he was finally able to see just how fucked out you were. Your eyes were glazed over and your body was glistening with a light sheen of sweat. He didn’t think you could have possibly looked hotter. 

“Holy shit,” you breathed. “You can do that any time you want.” Oh, he was so going to take you up on that offer. Feeling his shirt clinging to him, he ripped it off of him and tossed it to the side before pulling off his jeans, hating the feeling of his clothing sticking to his sweat body. 

He then collapsed onto the bed next to you, feeling his cock ache from being so hard, but he felt like he needed to give you a minute to come down from your orgasm before he tried anything else. You turned to him, your eyes trailing down his body and stopping once they got to his cock that was very much tenting in his boxers. 

You wanted to see it, touch it, feel it inside you and maybe in your mouth. Definitely in your mouth. He could see you staring and you were glad he couldn’t see the drool gathering in your mouth as you thought about sucking him off. His cheeks burned and he almost wanted to cover himself up, but decided that he had nothing to be embarrassed about. You were his girlfriend and it was totally normal for him to be turned on by you. 

“I can…take care of that for you,” you told him and he nodded enthusiastically as a whimper passed his lips. He wanted you to do whatever you wanted to him. 

“God, please,” he whined and you spit into your hand and slowly stuck it down into his pants, going straight for his cock which was very hard and veiny and sticky. You pumped your hand and he let out a moan as you did so, finally able to let it free. You then helped him remove his underwear completely, his cock springing free, needing more room to work on him, everything getting crowded in his boxers. 

It was bigger than you imagined and you wondered how it was even going to fit inside you when the time came. Somehow, though, you knew he’d make it work. You watched him come undone as you continued to jack him off, your movements slow at first, but eventually, gradually getting faster as you got more confident in what you were doing. You watched his face, eating up every single movement and moan and whimper falling from his lips. His eyes were shut tight and his hands grasped at the bedding underneath him, already feeling like he was close. 

He let out a loud scream that mixed in with his heavy breathing and you continued, desperate to hear the sound again. You watched his mouth open wider, his name leaving your lips as he reached his climax, cum leaking from his cock as he did so. He was so hot and you needed to taste him immediately. 

You moved your hand from him and made eye contact with him as you licked the cum that had gotten onto it, watching his eyes widen as he realized that he had created a monster. Where had you learned to do that? Because he certainly hadn’t taught that to you. 

“Christ,” he groaned and you lowered yourself on top of him, pressing your lips to his before dipping your tongue into his mouth, giving him the opportunity to see what he tasted like. He took your tongue into his mouth and gave it a rough suck before pulling away, desperate to have you suck him off. 

You kissed your way down his chest to his stomach just like he had done, but you were slower with it, letting your tongue stroke his sweaty skin, taking your time to work him up again. You could feel him squirming underneath you, desperate for you and you just continued, wanting him to beg for it. 

“Baby, please,” he said, rubbing his hands up and down your arms and you paused, looking up at him before moving even lower, making eye contact with him before slowly taking the tip of his cock into your mouth. You slovenly swirled your tongue around the head, trying to lick up every last drop of his cum. You looked up at him, watching him lose his mind and you like being on the other side, being the one to give the pleasure. 

You then took a little more into your mouth as your hand wrapped around the base, your tongue flattening against the underside of his cock, continuing to suck on him while your tongue gently stroked him. You hadn’t even done much yet and he could already confidently say that this was the best blowjob of his life. 

“Baby, oh my god,” he moaned. “So good.” You took that as an invitation to continue, sucking a little harder this time, removing your hand to take all of him into your mouth. He gasped as he looked down and watched you, quick to wipe away the tear that had fallen from your eyes.

“I knew you could take it,” he breathed. “I like this side of you, Jesus Christ.” Your hand reached for his balls and you fiddled with them before giving them a tight squeeze, Buck’s back hitting the mattress as he was becoming overstimulated. But there was no way that he was going to ask you to stop. He was enjoying it too much, the feeling of you sucking him off, watching you work on him, getting worked up just from seeing it all play out before him.

He was close, he could feel it building inside of him. Just one more stroke of your tongue and he’d be done for, absolutely fucked out. He was definitely going to need a break, but after that, he was going to fuck you senseless for giving him the best head of his life. Well, he was going to do that anyway. 

His back arched as he screamed your name, more cum leaking out onto your tongue. You slowly removed him from your mouth and swallowed before moving to lay next to him, the both of you getting under the covers. You both laid in silence, the only thing that could be heard was your heavy breaths, the events of what had just happened replaying in your heads on a loop. 

His hand reached for yours and you let him take it, him giving yours a squeeze before bringing it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to it. You turned to him, giving him a warm smile as your free hand moved to his hair, moving the hairs that had stuck to his forehead away from it. As he looked at you, hearts practically forming in his eyes, he began to realize that this was the moment. You had been so vulnerable with him that he felt like it was only right that he was the same with you. He took a deep breath, pulling up the script in his head that he had written out, but immediately trashing it, wanting this moment to be unscripted. From the heart. 

“I love you,” he said, feeling his heart pound in his chest. He hadn’t ever said those words to anyone. At least, not in a romantic sense. But as he said it, he felt a huge weight lift from his shoulders as he watched your face change, a huge smile breaking out on your face. God, you were adorable. 

He loved you. He loved you. You had hoped he felt the same, but you hadn’t been exactly sure. Despite all of his bad luck in that department, he had let his walls down and let himself fall in love with you. He was so tired of fighting it, even though he had wanted to accept it. And now he had. And he had even been the first to say it, which was a surprise, but you weren’t sure that you could have done it. The vulnerability scared you. But not anymore. He had done the scary part and now you felt like you owed him the truth in return.

“I love you too, Buck,” you replied and in response, he pulled you on top of him, intertwining his fingers with your and pressing a big sloppy kiss to your lips. He smiled against them and you couldn’t help but mimic him, your teeth clinking together as a result. You laughed into his mouth and he didn’t think he could have been happier than he was in that moment. 

He sat up and pressed his back against the headboard and you straddled his waist, your naked bodies pressing together. Your hands moved to his hair as your lips pressed to his, your kisses slow and messy as if you had all the time in the world, because you did. Your tongue swiped along the seam of his lips and he let you in with no hesitation, letting your tongue swirl around his leisurely. You then pulled away before he was ready, looking him in the eyes and he knew exactly what you wanted. 

“I want to feel you,” you told him, your hand scratching at his scalp and his partially closing his eyes at the feeling. “Is that okay? I’m-I’m on birth control and I got tested not too long ago. I’m good.”

“Me too,” he nodded. “I want to feel you too.” He pressed a quick kiss to your lips and helped you settle onto him, both of you moaning at the foreign feeling. You hesitantly bucked your hips against his as you both moved together, trying to get used to being connected in that way. 

His hands moved to your back, cradling you as yours moved to his shoulders, your pace picking up every so slightly. He was so gentle with you, always checking in to make sure you were comfortable, guiding you in any way he could. 

This was the most gentle sex Buck had ever had and he would have been lying if he said he didn’t like it. He liked all of the slow movements and the way you two were connected in such a loving way, holding onto each other, almost as if it was an embrace. 

You continued to ride him as your head tilted back, a delicious moan falling from your lips. All of your shyness and embarrassment had fallen away and it had seemed as though the love confession had opened up a whole new side of you. A more confident side that Buck loved to be the only one to see. That you felt comfortable enough to let all your walls down and let him see the real you.

“Look at you,” he said through breaths. “Taking me so well.” 

Your pace picked up a little more and you were close already. So close that you could see the edges of your vision starting to haze. There was no way you could have ever slept with anyone else after this. Not like you wanted to anyway. You wanted to be with Buck for the rest of your life. You were sure of it, even if you weren’t quite ready to admit that to him or yourself. 

“So pretty when you moan my name, baby. I wanna hear it again.”

Buck watched another orgasm roll through you and wasn’t sure if he’d ever stop finding you screaming his name so hot. Your back arched, causing your stomach to touch his and then you eventually melted into him, your head falling against his shoulder. His hands moved up and down your back as he let your stay there as you came down from your climax. 

Once you were good to go, he helped you off of him and you both laid on your sides, chest to chest as you held each other, whispering “I love you’s” into the dark while sharing kisses and the moments when you first fell for each other. 

As you both fell asleep that night, all you could think about was how lucky you felt to have found a man like him. Maybe things between the two of you were a bit rocky at first, but now you were completely inseparable. Tied together by your love for each other and nothing, absolutely nothing would ruin your special bond.

[koocycle]

over wine; chapter one (j.jk)

↳ synopsis. designer dresses, spa weekends and rare wines are no longer enough to keep your marriage afloat. with your husband gone from home and a marriage standing on shaky grounds, you stumble back to your neglected career in the hopes it’ll fulfill the void in your life. you’re ready to take the risk this time, whether that is with the emerald cut diamond around your ring finger, or without.

over cocktails and dior-bowed roses.

pairing. husband! jungkook x ex-model! fem reader

word count. 37.8k (it’s gotten out of hand)

au + genre. rich couple! au, established relationship! au, married couple! au, semi sugar daddy! au, suburban couple! au, angst, fluff and smut.

warnings. mild cursing, alcohol consumption, suggestive and mature themes including the following: unprotected sex, spanking, choking, dom!jk, oral (f. receiving) mirror sex and car sex. 

send me an ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

series masterlist

one, two, three

author’s note. oh my god. to say i have written for a lifetime and got nothing in me anymore, would be an understatement. (kidding. i’ve got an entire series to finish) no but, to actually be able to finish this part of the series and publish it with pride is such a milestone for me. for over a year, i’ve been drafting and drafting, deleting documents and rewriting them, moving from concept to concept, pausing and swearing i’d never write another word again. really, i’m dramatic like that. and i want to take this little note as a thank you to @latetaektalk who’s been hearing me bitch over this for so long. who’s been reading draft after draft and even when she’s busy, was sulking about the fact that she was too busy to read it. but future doctors don’t read silly fics linh!!! they just scream whenever their friends scream and hop off to biology (?) class. i’m very thankful & proud.

OVER COCKTAILS AND DIOR-BOWED ROSES

Jeon Jungkook must be easy to love.

You figure he is, because anywhere the well-dressed man goes, curious eyes follow. Though you find it hard to pinpoint what exactly it is that makes the man so lovable in the eyes of your friends and neighbors. Your husband owns a great sense of fashion, in his defense. If we’re talking 10-minute trips to the only supermarket available in town, where the man makes sure his hair is slicked back and the first few buttons of his blouse are undone, then yes, Jungkook might have hit the bull's eye. It’s noticeable on people’s faces no matter where his feet carry him. Take the red-haired divorcée across the street for example, whose skirts get shorter each time she comes out to get her mail. Or the head of the community garden every Saturday morning, who stoops a little lower each time she plucks another stock of radishes from her dirty, little yard.

Long story short, the man who got voted to grow the “reddest tomatoes the neighborhood has ever seen”, is considered one of the hottest men on the block. Not like it ends there when he carries his good attitude with him no matter the day. As a beloved one who drives off to the office no matter the rush he’s in, Jungkook makes sure to slow the speed down and send a sweet wave to the elderly couple at the end of the street. After business hours, he would find lost mail in his letterbox, wrong packages at his porch, and missing kittens hidden in the trimmed bushes of his backyard. Yes, great guess; Jungkook in formal attire makes sure they find their way back to the rightful owner before it turns dark out. A smile on his face that’s sweeter than the candied apples he gifted Kim Namjoon’s 7-year-old the other day.

Yes, Jeon Jungkook from number 09 is the neighborhood’s heartthrob.

What is there not to love about your beloved Jungkook?

Perhaps his despicable wife?

‘‘You might want to lose the attitude before she comes back.’’ It is the first thing your husband says that is directed towards you, breaking the tense silence like nails scraping against a chalkboard. There’s a large gap between the both of you on the rather firm sofa and the silence you grant him does little to calm either of you down. The two-seater isn’t a very broad piece of furniture on itself, though it seems bigger when each of you is seated at the opposite arms. Glued to them like teenagers who got into a fight in the lunch cafeteria in between classes. You watch Jungkook slump down his seat in the corner of your eye, an arm resting over the edge in a way that makes his Blancpain watch shimmer prettily around his thick wrist.

‘‘Attitude?’’ You end up asking, glossed lips pursed together.

‘‘You know what I’m talking about.’’ He says flatly. Jungkook sounds like he couldn’t bother any less, but truth be told, the tight pause in his defense betrays him. His eyes fall to your folded arms and travel lower down your bare, crossed legs after. ‘‘You look like you don’t want to be here at all.” The Versace dress he got you hugs your hips just the way it’s supposed to and rides higher up your thigh with every minor movement you proceed to make. Ruby red polyester clashes with the neutrals in the room and you definitely seem like you don’t belong in such a formal setting, but fuck, he would have you bent over Mrs. Kang’s desk with your dress hunched around your waist if he weren’t supposed to be an angry fuck right now.

You scoff at his foolish accusation. “Please, Jungkook,” a humorless chuckle dies down on your tongue when you can’t find it in you to fake it. “I was the one who had to beg you to clear your schedule for today’s appointment in the first place.”

“Then act like it. Don’t just sit here and sulk.” He bites like he had his response ready and set. Sharp eyes meet yours. “You’re acting like a child, pouting like it’s gonna get us anywhere. Seulgi is here to help us sort our shit out. At least let her do her damn job.”

Jungkook’s head slowly lolls to the back of the ivory-colored sofa when it’s off his chest, a puff of air leaving his lips like today’s session got him exhausted before it could even make its start. His eyes fall to a close as he pinches the bridge of his nose. The sight of it only makes the tight knot in your stomach grow and you can’t seem to tear your eyes off the heated man, a snarl on your lips you wish he’d notice.

“I told you, I want a second opinion.”

“And I told you, we’re not going through the hassle of finding another therapist when we got a fine one just under our nose.” Jungkook’s jaw tenses and he slumps down the sofa some more. “Give her time. She’s analyzing our relationship.”

His words trigger something inside you. They make you sit on the edge of your seat with heat rushing to your head, the Valentino Garavani mini bag falling off your lap and onto the cushions at the movement. “How much of an analysis does she need when we visit two times a week?” Your eyes fall on him. “Open your eyes, Kook. She always asks for my opinion and uses it against me a minute later. She is always on your side. We need a second opinion.”

“Just fucking drop it.” He mumbles to himself though he swears it’s for your own good. Also because the waiting area is only a door away and he doesn’t want to walk out of the heated office with judging eyes on him like last time. The walk of shame back to the car must have been the highlight of your visit. “I’m not gonna run around town and find you a straight, male therapist who’s blindly gonna agree with you the minute you flash him half a boob. Wasting our money like it’s nothing.”

Jungkook regrets saying that as soon as it’s out. He didn’t have to say that, he figures. Though when he’s met with silence and catches the roll of your eyes on his side, the pang of guilt disappears as soon as it came. You didn’t come here to argue here with him. Quite the opposite, considering your surroundings. Though it is getting hard to block that road when you aren’t one to bite your tongue either. “Of course you won’t. You love it when people suck on your dick.”

He should have seen that one coming. And he knows either one of you needs to stop barking back if you want to see any progress throughout your sessions with Mrs. Kang. Jungkook could be the bigger person if he wanted to be, but his egoism is rocket high. ‘‘Say that again?’’

You fall to the back of the sofa as well, mirroring him with your arms crossed tight against your chest. “Seulgi is sucking you dry and you’re eating it up.” You mutter with gritted teeth. “Always picking your side, always defending you…you’re loving it and you can’t get enough.”

Jungkook says nothing and just listens to your quiet, angry mumbles at first. To him, you’re almost whining the words out like it’s going to get you anywhere. And maybe it would if the circumstances would be any different. If you weren’t forced to kill time in an empty office waiting for your couple’s therapist to return with your preferred coffee and biscuits. Kang Seulgi knows the deal by now; you like your spiced chai latte and he likes his shot of espresso so bitter that it sits on his tongue for the rest of the session.

He continues to watch you. Examine you, in some way. The sound of your rambling drawing out the more he loses himself in his own world. Issues roll off your tongue like you’re reading them off a long, unending list, and he feels like you’ve argued about these same things over and over again. Too many times for him to keep his focus when your breasts are pressed together so prettily in that dress.

You’ve had it for a while, Jungkook then recalls. A couple of years at most, but he remembers the day he bought it for you like it was last week. Initially, you told him no; you didn’t need him to buy you a dress for a price so ridiculous. He could buy you an extra large salmon bagel for lunch and you’d be the happiest woman in the room, is what you tried to convince him of. Though your eyes glimmered with adoration the minute you entered the store and held the designer piece in your hands. Moments after swearing you only wanted to see it up close and get a good feel. He remembers loving that glimmer in your eyes.

He wanted to see it more often, so Jeon Jungkook got you that Versace dress like it was nothing. You yelled and shrieked at him through the entire checkout and earned some nasty glances from the saleswomen, but he didn’t mind. He could take a hit from you. If a simple swipe of his card meant he’d see that look more often, then yes, Jungkook was willing to sell his soul for you.

“Are you even listening?” He doesn’t notice the corners of his lips slipping up until you tug him out of his daze. The apples of his cheeks show as quick as they die down.

“Yeah,” Jungkook groans and sits up straight. “I hear you. You’re just not making any sense, babe.”

Jungkook often finds several ways to make you roll your eyes and tighten your jaw, though he rarely makes you fume with steam blowing out of your ears.

Today is one of the days where he makes you fume with steam. He can tell by the way you avoid his eye in the hopes you won’t go all feral on him. Or how your glossed lips pettily press together, the Dior Addict lip oil one step away in your lip-combo routine from cussing him out until your voice goes hoarse.

You huff quietly, clearly holding back. “How am I not making sense? You’re not listening to a word I say.”

“I listen. You just have a hard time understanding me.”

It’s a thing you guys do, the finger-point thing. And it is something you do a lot. It’s a thing where either of you hopes that the other backs up when you point for long enough. A healthy relationship doesn’t work like that, is what Seulgi told you during your last session. As if you didn’t already know. But old habits are hard to get rid of, and certainly when it comes to you two, where someone else has to lose in order to win.

You didn’t think of her words as useful and made sure to voice the complaints about your newly found couple’s therapist the entire ride back home. Jungkook, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure what to do with your critical feedback. The entire session, he was just waiting for Seulgi to hand him that step-by-step handbook to a successful marriage, which he hoped was attached to her clipboard. But he knew she wouldn’t have made it so easy for you even if she had it. Not with the amount of money he pays her per session. Because if we’re going to be honest, then no, Jungkook didn’t get Seulgi either. But he was willing to learn from her and understand her. Unlike you, who just sat there and might as well have filed and groomed your nails while you were at it.

Maybe you’re scared of whatever is yet to come, he ponders. Maybe you think you’re better off than whatever the future has planned out for you and Jungkook. He doesn’t know, and he can’t figure you out either.

‘‘I get it, okay?’’ He finally says, now at the edge of his seat as well. ‘‘It sucks to sit here and be confronted on issues that we can’t seem to work out ourselves, but we’re trying to crawl out of whatever hellhole this is. At least I am. Some cooperation would be appreciated.”

You don’t argue back as fast as he expects you to. ‘‘I’m trying, too.’’ You don’t stutter, you don’t fidget with your fingers and you sure as hell never break eye contact with the man. You never do when you defend yourself against your husband, and Jungkook has always admired how firm your feet are planted to the ground. Though when you’re wrong, then he’s the one who must be right. ‘‘She doesn’t fit our needs. Stick your head out of the sand and try to see what I see, Kook.’’

‘‘She doesn’t fit?’’ Jungkook’s brows pull together in frustration, defensively resting his palms on his inner thighs and causing his arms to crook. ‘‘What? Because we’re not a match or because you can’t stand it when you’re not winning?’’

‘‘What is this, the fucking Olympics?’’ You scowl, impulsively copying Jungkook’s defensive form. ‘‘I don’t need to win a damn thing. Look at where we got ourselves,’’ angry hands fly in the air and fall back down your lap with a loud slap. ‘‘We’re already losing with a therapist like her. You and I both.’’

‘‘You can’t just sit here and suck these theories out of your thumb, ___, we’re no kids no more. Stop acting like we know that woman,’’ Jungkook cries out, accusing finger-pointing your way. ‘‘You just can’t stand the fact that Seulgi is actually doing her damn job and isn’t blindly taking your side. Is it really that hard of a pill for you to swallow?’’

‘‘She’s blindly taking your side.’’ You spit back and your husband can only respond with a humorless chuckle, adding fuel to the fire. ‘‘The minute we step into this room, every fucking time, I’m painted as the clown. I’m the damn joke. Forced to listen to the way she’s putting you on a pedestal as she’s digging me deeper into the ground like there aren’t two sides of the story. Why is your first response telling me to shove it? You’re being a real asshole right now.’’

‘‘I never told you to shove it. Don’t put words in my mouth.’’ He attempts to say with a bit more composure but you can see the fire in his sharp eyes all the same way. Pierced lip curling in to hold himself back from saying all the wrong things. ‘‘I’m trying to be the rational one here.’’

‘‘Rational? You don’t need many words for it to be obvious.’’

‘‘Damn it, ___.’’ He curses and his fingers fall to rub at his temples, elbows digging into his thighs. You always got your word ready to spit back in his face. ‘‘Why don’t you just go home if you’re so unhappy? I’ll do this by myself if you’re really going to be this childish.’’

It feels like a slap in the face when his words work through, while it doesn’t sting and only seems to work you up with immense rage. Blood fast to rush to your head. You’re not sure what it is that’s keeping you from defending yourself. Knowing you, you’re not one to let accusations like these slide that easily, and neither is Jungkook. Maybe you expect him to apologize as far as your husband is able to. As long as his pride doesn’t tumble to the ground and shatters into pieces. You don’t know, maybe you expect him to at least take his word back while he looks you in the eye again.

It doesn’t surprise you when he doesn’t.

Jungkook’s head tilts when he hears the rumbling in your mini bag, watching your manicured hand dig through your belongings. ‘‘What are you looking for?’’

Your lips purse together again at the sound of his voice. ‘‘My phone,’’ you say shortly before you pull out the device. Long, almond-shaped stiletto’s tap against the screen and it is the only sound that’s creating much of a suspense. ‘‘To call a cab, I mean. You think I’m walking home in these heels?’’

‘‘Really?’’ he states more than he asks, sending him to the very edge. ‘‘You’re actually going home.’’

Your phone is already to your ear when you stand up from your spot on the sofa, Valentino Garavani falling in the crook of your arm as you straighten your dress. Heavy lidded eyes surf back to his dumbfounded state. ‘‘That’s what you told me to do?”

‘‘You know that’s not what I fucking wanted.’’ Jungkook scowls. ‘‘Seulgi’s gonna be back any minute now.’’

‘‘Good. Tell her I said hi.’’ And with those last bitter words slipping off your tongue, you leave him astonished in the luxury office with his hands reaching for his hair.

You’ve never been an easy one, Jungkook has been told by various people since the start of your relationship. But neither has he ever been a goody two shoes. Whether the both of you could handle each other, even after all these years of tough practice, might be a totally different story.

It was in college when Jungkook first realized he caught the most beautiful gem in the jeweler's inventory. Fresh into his first year as a finance major, entering his twenties and living life to the fullest in a brand new world that consisted of sex and alcoholic beverages to explore. Jungkook has always been a big dreamer, even back then. A real go-getter. One who used to scribble down achievable five-year plans at that marked page in his notebook, in that awful handwriting anybody could barely read. It was quite funny, considering you weren’t a part of the initial plan before you said yes to a single date with him. But when you finally became Jungkook’s girl to kiss, to fuck and to admire, he knew he could easily squeeze you in that plan. Jungkook wanted you for life. He knew so from the start. He was the one who dreamed of moving out of the city and into a large house in the beauties of suburbia, surrounded by a white picket fence, a little family and two guard dogs on the side. He wanted it all with you. You were his dream girl.

Jungkook was never one to shy away when it came to you. He was yours, and you were his. It was just the way it was supposed to be and everybody had the right to know. Jungkook was most proud to call you his when curious eyes easily swayed your way across campus. It happened every time you came to pick him up from class. Your perfectly pin-straight styled hair fell down your perfect face all the time, and the dark denim low waist jeans that stopped just beneath your pink, sparkling belly button piercing made anyone want to be with you, or be you. No in between. He loved how his hands fit so perfectly around your waist, on top of that_ Prada_ belt encircling your hips. But what he must have loved a little more, was how everyone’s eye shifted to the way he’d pull you chest against chest. He was all yours, and you were his. Everybody knew.

Seven years later, and things haven’t changed a bit.

Well, most of that.

The low waist jeans are replaced with the champagne-colored Celine dress which enhances your every curve, stopping mid-thigh. Jungkook is aware that each spouse, faithful or not, must have taken a second look your way. The rounding of your wine glass hides in your palm as the French Chardonnay in it sways back and forth with every minor hand movement you make. Eyes are on you. Subtle or not for whatever reason your neighbors might have to peek and mumble about, it doesn’t matter. Probably from every corner of Park Jimin’s pool party, too.

Even Jungkook can sense the air tighten around you when his large hand finds that familiar spot above the swell of your ass. This doesn’t feel like seven years ago, when you were mere college boyfriend and girlfriend, smothered all over each other like your time together was limited. The tension is here and fairly obvious.

“What are you guys chit chatting about?” He interjects your conversation with Kim Joohyun anyway. Kim Namjoon’s wife: the lady down the street you claimed to never really like. Something about her being too merry, and her collection of flowery sun hats you can’t bear to look at. Jungkook figures he does you a favor, but you don’t spare him a second glance even when his chest nearly bumps flat to your back. Which probably still has something to do with the incident back at Seulgi’s office.

“You, actually.” You say, a click on your tongue.

Jungkook grins cutely, dimples appear at the sound of it while his hand rubs in small circles at your back. “Oh? Good things only, I hope.”

‘‘___ was just telling me about your upcoming trip!’’ Joohyun shrieks, no ill intentions behind that wide, toothy smile of hers. You don’t even blame her for not noticing how Jungkook stills on your side. ‘‘Gotta say you have me jealous, Jungkook. A trip during this time of the year? Sounds lovely.’’

‘‘Well… not sure how jealous you should be. It’s just business,’’ he heaves a breathy chuckle as he pulls you closer to his side, the tugs at his lips awfully forced in front of your neighbor. ‘‘But you knew that,’’ Jungkook nudges your side even though you don’t put in the effort to lock eyes, so he just watches your face crumble. ‘‘You didn’t mention that?’’

Your brows pull together in question. ‘‘Why would I?’’ You ask as you’re fast to focus your attention back to Joohyun, thumb pointing his way for emphasis. ‘‘He’ll be gone for almost two months on a Caribbean cruise. Isn’t that enough to be jealous of?’’

Joohyun cackles along to your bitter chuckles, the wine in her glass nearly tipping over. ‘‘You had me at Caribbean.’’

‘‘It’s not a vacation.’’ Jungkook quickly defends himself, interrupting the laughter. ‘‘It’ll be less fun when I’m going to be stuck in conference rooms all day. Believe me, it’s really not that big of a deal.’’

You swirl your glass in your hand, teeth digging into your lower lip. The feel of his fingertips at your hipbone now becomes more prominent. ‘‘You only cared to inform me last week, so I’m sure it’s no biggie.’’ You say, voice laced with irony. ‘‘He’s leaving in two weeks, by the way.’’

It’s true. Jungkook didn’t care to mention a thing about the business trip until a week ago. On a random Thursday night with Chinese take-out served on the table and a glass of red wine on the side. You’ve never been upset over any of his trips in the past, so when you stared back at the flabbergasted man with pulled brows, chow mein stuffing your cheeks as another episode of Ugly Betty blared in the background, it came as a surprise. Why, he asked you, why is it so hard to keep you happy? And the question threw you off the edge, snapping something inside you didn’t know you were keeping in. A trip that would last nearly two months had to be planned in advance. Longer than a total of three weeks, that is. Jungkook must have known he’d be gone for a long time, and he didn’t even care to inform his wife.

Jungkook apologized the moment he saw the confusion shift into anger. Though the apology was rushed and spurted out in the heat of the moment. Maybe he did it because he didn’t want any wine stains spilling your loveseat with the way you gripped onto the glass so tight. Or maybe because he realized he wasn’t the owner of a newborn pup, a last-minute search up his sleeve for a sitter during his two-month cruise vacay.

It was probably the former.

Even Kim Joohyun in her tipsy state takes note of the tight air around your throat. She smiles a little and takes another sip of her Chardonnay as if she isn’t being obvious. ‘‘More wine, babe?’’ You turn to Jungkook. His glass is still half full when you take it from his grip, pushing past his shoulder.

A pout plays on Joohyun’s lips as Jungkook’s gaze stays on you until you’re out of sight. Sad eyes trying to meet Jungkook’s as he watches you disappear into the crowd. ‘‘She’s a lady. She’ll come around.’’ She cutely tries to reassure him, a light slap to his bicep with the back of her hand. ‘‘It’ll be over by the time you all reach 30. Trust me, Joon knows all about my shenanigans by now.’’

Jungkook fakes a laugh but it doesn’t reach his eyes the same way. But that’s you, he thinks to himself. He knows it’s supposed to be a lighthearted, innocent joke, but Joohyun and Namjoon are only a couple years older than you two are, not even close to reaching their mid-30s. And ever since Jungkook moved into the neighborhood and has known his friends for, he’s seen the way they have never encountered a genuine threat to their relationship. Maybe you won’t ever come around, maybe Jungkook won’t either.

Nonetheless, he shrugs. ‘‘Probably.’’

‘‘Most likely.’’ She carries on, apparently determined to lighten up the mood. ‘‘Isn’t that what Seulgi is there for?’’

Joohyun’s words spill off her lips before she gives herself the chance to comprehend them, not even waiting for an actual answer before she brings her glass back to her lips, painting yet another spot at the rim a bright, cherry red.

Rule 101 to a successful neighborhood-friendly party: don’t bring therapists into the conversation. Avoid at all costs!

It catches Jungkook’s attention as if alarm bells are going off. Wide eyes and usually perfect brows are suddenly a little less sharp than they were a minute ago. Kim Joohyun knows about the sessions with your couple’s therapist? Have you been going around town, casually rolling the topic into the conversation with a bunch of neighbors? Jungkook isn’t sure why he can feel his heart sink to the pit of his stomach at the thought of it, at the mere assumption. Maybe because this is something between you and him. Something so personal, so intimate and so damn private. There shouldn’t be a reason for you to allow people to dig their noses into your business. To put it out in the open without talking to him first.

‘‘___ told you about Seulgi?’’

Jungkook finds it in him to stay calm. Though curiosity gets the better of him when it becomes obvious in his voice. Joohyun stands tall on both of her feet when she hears it, lips parting into a slight O. ‘‘Oh well, I mean, yeah. We’re girl friends.’’ She casually says, and it makes him wonder how deep into detail you went with the woman. When she catches him clenching his jaw, her eyes grow big. ‘‘I’m sorry, this is so inappropriate. The last thing I wanted to do was pry!’’

Kim Joohyun is the neighborhood’s sweetheart, Jungkook knows she’s already drowning herself in guilt with only a single glance his way. This is not about her. And let it be a coincidence or not, but he has mastered his poker face ever since his first years in college. Seems like the skill came in handy after all. ‘‘Don’t be sorry, what have _you _done?’’ That is all he can manage to say for now. A silly, shammed smile on his lips though he doesn’t even wait for an answer.

You, on the other hand… you’re nothing like Kim Joohyun.

A heat of adrenaline rushes through him, and he swears it is not the wine that has gone through his system. No, it can’t be, because his mouth has gone dry while the Chardonnay Park Jimin poured him earlier had some sort of sweet aftertaste. It was one of the sweetest white wines he owned, is what the blonde man gushed about.

Without any other thought hazing his mind any further, Jungkook politely excuses himself to fetch off and find you. Like a hawk, he bumps shoulders with a couple strangers as he tries to scan the large backyard, until his eyes land on you. Seated at the pool chair by the water with the sun in your face, bare legs stretched and crossed as your Givenchy sunglasses sit on the tip of your nose. The two wine glasses from earlier are forgotten and disregarded at your side table. You seem disinterested in the ongoing party at your side, not really one to mingle with strangers in the dirty pool water. You’re not a shy woman, and Jungkook has always admired that about you. It’s just that you don’t always fit in with the rest of the neighborhood. But not once since you moved to the suburbs did you mind. Instead, it almost seems like you’re glad.

‘‘You’re blocking my sun, Kook.’’ You say as if it isn’t obvious when Jungkook comes to stand at the end of the chair, by your feet. Your glasses are tipped to the tip of your nose as you lock eyes with him.

‘‘My bad.’’ He grins cutely before sitting down at the edge, fully taking you in when your middle finger pushes the tinted glasses back to your bridge as you make yourself comfortable again. ‘‘Are you enjoying yourself, babe?’’ Jungkook questions sweetly, tatted hand reaching out to cup your inner thigh, thumb rubbing small, soothing circles over the soft skin.

“It’s okay.”

He hums. “Mhm, I can see that.” Gentle fingers drag across your hot skin but you don’t pay him much mind. There is no need for much eye contact when you’re closing your eyes and leaning back into your chair, hands intertwining on top of your stomach. He can tell you’re still upset about earlier, when Jungkook ignored your worries and encouraged you to leave Seulgi’s session. And yes, maybe he shouldn’t have done that. He is aware that maybe he had gone a little too far when he just let you walk out of there without sitting you down and letting you say your thing. Though you and him both know he wouldn’t push your buttons after pulling a stunt like that. ‘‘Look at me, love.’’ He says with a tight line of his lips. You broke a piece of his trust the moment you laid your relationship bare before a woman you barely know, and God knows who else you might have told.

You do as he tells you, but mainly because the pet name sits so strange on his tongue. Like there is a bite to it. And for some strange reason, the confused look on your beautiful face irks the fuck out of him. As if you never feared he’d find out you told some neighbor about something so personal. Like he wouldn’t get upset.

‘‘Care to tell me when you got so tight with Kim Joohyun?’’

You frown, lips pursing together. ‘‘Joohyun?’’

Jungkook wants to give you another bit to process the question, but you made him an impatient man. It’s a simple query, he thinks, and there is no need for him to elaborate any further. Though you seem on the slower side today, eyes half lidded through the dark brown lenses of your glasses, like you’re done with his bullshit for the week.

‘‘You know,’’ he pushes, nodding along. ‘‘When you had no issue letting her know the ins and outs of our relationship like you’re pulling off some Vogue interview type of shit.’’

‘‘Jungkook, what are you even saying?’’

‘‘The therapy, ___. The sessions, Seulgi—all of that shit.’’ He hisses, voice lowering even though the edge to it is just as sharp. ‘‘Why would you tell her?’’

It takes a moment before he watches the realization sink in. Jungkook’s eyes bore into yours and threatening flames swim in them, restlessly waiting for your word against his with his lips curled inwards and brows pulled together. You owlishly blink at him, stumbling on whatever you’re about to say next when he is looking at you like that, holding you under that microscope he’s had you on for years. Though it feels like it’s the first time he’s actually paying attention. At least now, after a long fucking time.

Jungkook is not one to easily feel small due to anyone’s actions, let it be his own mother and he wouldn’t dare to let his guard down. He is a true businessman at heart. At one point in his career, forceful assertiveness was an important skill that had to be drawn into his system in some way or another. Whether that’s considered a good quality or not, to Jeon Jungkook, financial manager of four years by now, it has always been reality.

‘‘You’re upset I told Joohyun about the therapy?’’ Qualities, skills and class. All of that thrown out of the window with a single look at those big, astonished eyes.

He returns them, all the same way. ‘‘Of course I’m gonna be upset. I mean, Kim Joohyun?’’ Jungkook scoffs loudly, having trouble keeping his voice down. ‘‘This is our fucking shit, ___. It’s none of her damn business.’’

His rage is working you up as you catch a couple heads eagerly turning your way. Negative attention is still attention, some say. ‘‘Can you keep your voice down? The whole neighborhood is here.’’

Here’s one thing: Jungkook can’t give a damn about any of them now. The chatter and mingles are done for, he’s over it today. It messes with his head; the fact that the first words that came from you weren’t a set of haste apologies. Call him self-centered, he doesn’t care. It’s all he intends to hear. ‘‘You should’ve discussed this with me before you went out to talk about our personal shit with others.’’ He lowers his voice anyway.

‘‘Discuss?’’ You ask quickly. “This is not some business ordeal, Jungkook. Am I not allowed to vent to someone?’’

‘‘I’m here. Right under your nose.’’ Jungkook argues, an angry finger digging into his chest. ‘‘Why won’t you vent to me? Why would you turn to people you barely know when you’ve got me?’’

‘‘You?’’ A humorless chuckle escapes you before you can hold onto the irony. ‘‘Sure, I’ve got you. For two full weeks before you leave for that damn trip–isn’t that a luxury? My relationship is going to shit and I don’t have a single friend in this town who would want to hear me out. But thank God I got you, the one who sends his wife home mid-therapy sessions.’’

Jungkook painfully pinches his brows together as he shoots daggers through your shades. ‘‘It doesn’t matter the circumstances, ___. You don’t just casually discuss that shit with people. It isn’t something to be fucking proud of.’’

You take the glasses off to get a better look at him. ‘‘You’re not actually upset, are you?” You ask, head tilting and gaze clouding. ‘‘God, it’s beyond me how much you care about these people’s opinions. It was just a harmless neighbor-to-neighbor talk with some woman down the street. What are you afraid is gonna happen next? Them throwing us off the Saturday night mini-golf game?’’

Irony. You’re a master at it, but Jungkook doesn’t seem amused by your humor. ‘‘You know what? Tell whoever the fuck you want.’’ He stands up from his seat. ‘‘If you’re unable to see the issue at hand then maybe you’re not even worth my damn time. Figure this shit out yourself, ___.’’

And with so much, Jungkook slips away in between bodies of people you don’t know. It leaves you unhinged in your seat, the sun gracefully falling down your skin again like you’re supposed to be enjoying it. Your head runs blank when you repeat the conversation, running around in circles when you recall all of the finger-pointing. All the looks of revulsion.

You’re not one to really care about other people’s opinions. You’ve never been and never will be, you swear. People will gossip about anyone to spice up their own lives anyway. There's the unemployed wife from number 09 who walks around town in designer mini-skirts with a diamond at her ring finger bigger than her own head. She’ll undoubtedly be a broad topic with many chapters for many. You let them talk. You don’t care. There is no point in caring what those low lives say about you. The grass on the other side of the white picket fence isn’t any brighter.

So when Kim Joohyun subtly warmed you up to the topic of unstable marriages, you saw no point in lying to her and telling her you couldn’t be happier. That you’re on cloud nine and that Jungkook is the type of partner you always dreamed of, that you are his ideal partner he’s been dreaming of. Because he isn’t, and neither are you. Yes, your marriage is going to shit and you’re trying to fix it. So what if the entire neighborhood knows? You might as well give those nosy Suburbans a reliable source to gossip from.

Jungkook has always cared. You know he has. Your husband cares about the way he’s perceived by strangers; you’ve seen it as long as you’ve known him. He’s never shy to show off the gold-coated jewelry that hangs off your neck, or the overpriced three-piece suits he’ll wear long after office hours. Of course Jungkook would go feral, you then realize. Jeon Jungkook is a flawless soul. God forbid he is dealing with an unhappy wife at home and a couple’s therapist to place the cherry on top.

The door softly thuds behind you as you get home, the loud keychains announcing your return to the big house instead of a sweetened hello. You catch the back of Jungkook’s head immediately, facing you as he’s seated at the dining table. The change in his clothes stands out. The laid-back blouse he wore at the pool party is replaced with a more formal, striped button-up with neutral colors and you wonder why he’d change into it if he’s working from home, where no one would see him. The brightness of his laptop screen hits his face and it makes you realize how fast the sun had set since he stormed off earlier. He must have been working ever since he came in.

You don’t care to take your heels off as you approach him, wanting him to hear the slow steps you take instead. ‘‘Would it really hurt Park Jimin if he offered his guests some snacks? It’s a pool party for God’s sake; people shouldn’t swim on an empty stomach,’’ you whine, making your way over.

‘‘You’re home late,’’ Jungkook mumbles, teeth grinding at your presence. His eyes are set on his laptop screen, a bunch of numbers you don’t care about filling his file.

‘‘I didn’t think it’d hurt if I stayed out a little longer.’’ You hum cutely. Hands come to rest on his broad shoulders before you gently start kneading the tense muscles. You watch from behind as his head tilts a little, not yet sparing you a glance and letting go of the cold shoulder but relaxing into the feel instead. “You and I could spend some time apart after that conversation we had, no?”  

Your lips move to the shell of his ear just to accentuate the words even more. And instantly, it catches his attention. The fact that you’re addressing the issue at hand does wonders for him. Does this mean you’re ready to face the consequences of your actions and apologize like a grown adult? Jungkook’s fingers hover above his keyboard but come to a complete stop when he feels the wet kisses beneath his earlobe, traveling all the way down his jaw. Your fingers fumble to unbutton his blouse, manicured stilettos making the process even slower. And as fast as he fooled himself to believe you’d follow up to face your consequences, the quicker he averts his attention back to his file.

Your lips move to the shell of his ear just to accentuate the words even more. And instantly, it catches his attention. The fact that you’re addressing the issue at hand does wonders for him. Does this mean you’re ready to face the consequences of your actions and apologize like a grown adult? Jungkook’s fingers hover above his keyboard but come to a complete stop when he feels the wet kisses beneath his earlobe, traveling all the way down his jaw. Your fingers fumble to unbutton his blouse, manicured stilettos making the process even slower. And as fast as he fooled himself to believe you’d follow up to face your consequences, the quicker he averts his attention back to his file.

Sighing, he speaks. “Whatever you’re trying to do right now, it’s not working.”

You pissed him off. That much did you understand when he stormed off Park Jimin’s backyard and didn’t return to make any more small talk with any of your neighbors. That perfect, white-toothed smile gone and hidden in the safety of your four walls, where he didn’t give himself the time to unwind and went to work behind his laptop straight away. You know his ways by now. Jungkook is a workaholic, that much isn’t a secret. It’s a Sunday afternoon with bits and pieces of sunlight on every corner of the neighborhood, but Jeon Jungkook would rather spark an argument with his wife and work his ass off to distract himself after.

“Hm, what is it that I’m I trying to do?” You’re provoking him, hands traveling down south beneath the thin fabric of his unbuttoned blouse while you continue to leave sweet kisses at his jaw. Quietly, you move on to deeper spots of his silky, thick neck. A cute bite here and there. “I’m not doing anything.” Your nails gently scrape against his chest in need for attention and you know it’s working despite all his efforts to remain calm. You can feel the slightest hitch of a breath with the way your palms are pressed against him. He is holding back because he’s angry, but not on your watch.

“Cut it, ___.” Jungkook snaps even though you know you nearly got him hooked around your finger. No matter how many years you’ve known the man for, he is only a man. They’re the easy kind. “I’m working.”

“On the weekend? Don’t act so fussy babe,” You circle his chair, lingering fingers in the back of his neck with a big pout on your glossed lips. You lean against the edge of the table, ass planted next to his laptop. “You used to fuck me on and off business hours all the time. What changed?”

Jungkook leans back in his chair with a loud exhale through his nose. You’re playing a silly game and he can be just as witty. His hands intertwine and his head tilts as he locks a cold eye with you. The smug curve of your lips tells him everything he needs to know. A sharp brow rises. The familiar, cocky attitude telling you to continue your little act. Continue it and see what happens, is what he tells you.

You move on command, closing his laptop with a soft thud before you impatiently shove it to the side. Jungkook watches your every move like a hawk and you wouldn’t dare to break eye contact; you wouldn't lose to him. Straddling the man with a bare leg on either side of him, you make sure you’re seated just right as your heat hovers above his already growing bulge. He whines a little at the feel of it, ever so soft like he doesn’t want to give into you. “You used to hold me, just like this,” you whimper, ushering his large hands to sit at your hips where they tighten their grip, one of them quick to move to the swell of your ass and grab a handful. “You’d tease me, play with me,” another roll of your clothed heat against his sends a wave of relief through him. It’s slow, addicting. “You used to want me all the time.”

“I still want you.” Jungkook is fast to object. Eyes flickering down to the plumpness of your tinted lips and you waste no time in shutting him up when he does so. Your lips clash together like it’s second nature, perfectly in sync from the get-go like it is always that easy between you. Teeth clash and tongues dance like you’re desperate. You don’t stop until a tattooed hand reaches through your hair, gently make shifting your locks into a ponytail until he tightens his grip. Prying you away with a little more force than he‘s shown earlier. “But you fucking piss me off baby,”

He has you in his lock, gripping tighter onto the ponytail until you look down on him and that smug smile is wiped off your lips. “Do I?” You ask dumbly. You know you do. He knows you know.

“You do, but you don’t give a fuck, do you?” He questions with a closed-lipped smile. Jungkook’s free hand moves to hike your dress higher up your ass until it sits completely bare on top of him, one less layer until he can feel you. With the fresh air that is roaming through the house, you’re not given enough time to adjust to the new feeling against your bare skin when he spanks you once. Soothing the skin with a little graze after. “You think sex makes me forget about the way you can’t shut that tight little mouth? Hm? Always gotta complain about something.” Another spank. Through it all, you remain eye contact as you watch the fire swim through his gaze. “Not to me, though. To your little friends around the neighborhood, right?”

“No.”

“Hm, what was that?” He heard you, though he hums anyway.

“Just Joohyun.” You whimper in his grip, stopping yourself from rolling your hips into his when he grabs a handful of your flesh. “I only told Kim Joohyun from number 05. She doesn’t fucking care about you or me. Nobody fucking cares about us.”

His grip on your hair only tightens as you spew the words out, a delicious sting at your scalp. “Aren’t you sorry, baby?” He whispers with a sharp edge to it, spitting the words out like he doesn’t need an answer from you. Like he already knows the answer. “I’d be fucking sorry if I were you, because I’m yours. And you’re mine.” His lips press together, sharp eyes burning into yours. “And whatever the fuck is mine, I keep to myself. Don’t you think that’s rational?”

You nod, but it isn’t enough for him. “C’mon, babe. You were talking so much shit earlier, you can give me more than that.” He says.

“Yes, Kook. You’re right.” You whine out loud, “I’m sorry.”

Jungkook tilts his head cutely, intently peering back at you. “Sorry, for?”

“For talking shit about everything. The sessions, the therapy. I should’ve understood this is something between you and me.”

A smug smile paints his lips, seemingly pleased with your answer as he loosens his grip at your hair. “That’s my girl. Was that so hard now?” He asks sweetly, eyes softening and fingers continuing to travel through your locks, gently massaging your scalp with his fingertips. Enjoying the way you relax into his touch. “Go lay on that table and spread those legs for me.”

You shoot him a look even though the state between your legs worsens, pausing. “Jungkook, we eat at that table.”

“I told you to get on there, didn’t I?”

He doesn’t need to tell you twice when he’s looking at you like that. Those dark, hazy and impatient eyes seem to bore into your skull until you do what he asks. The petty attitude you carried with pride is now long gone, lost in the heat of the moment as you climb onto the dining table before him, like a five-star buffet. Heels dig into the stool in between his legs and thighs clamp together as you lean back to observe him, testing to see how much longer you can push his buttons. He knows you’re trying to work him up because you’re great at it. He gave you seven years to master all your troublesome ways on him.

The corners of your mouth curl up to a sly and mischievous smile as your teeth dig into your lower lip. ‘‘You wanna play, baby?’’ Jungkook challenges, noticing the look you give him. He rises from his seat until he hovers over you with his broad shoulders. With your knees stay put against his chest, he quietly watches how you get down to lay your back flat against the table the closer he comes. Just the way he told you to. ‘‘Let’s play then,’’ he murmurs, his hands sliding up your bare legs, pausing at your thighs and gently tearing them apart until you’re spread out to his liking. Your breath hitches in your throat, back already curving off the surface of the table when Jungkook’s thumb grazes soft circles over your panties. The black-laced thong does little to block the sensation. He sighs heavily, breath fainting in the crook of your neck while his free arm supports his weight next to your head.

‘‘I don’t even know if you deserve to be fucked good.’’ Jungkook groans into your neck. There is no way he doesn’t feel the wet spot on your panties, not when his fingertips continue to feel you up and dig a little at where your hole is covered up. ‘‘What if I just,’’ he slips your thong aside, ‘‘…fucked this soaked pussy with my fingers, hm?’’

You can’t stop the whimper that leaves you when his thick middle finger teases a long strike down your folds. ‘‘Please, Jungkook.’’ You cry, nails scraping at his nape. ‘‘I want you.’’ Jungkook never fails you when it comes to sex. He knows your body like the back of his hand and no matter how shaky the ground underneath your feet might be, Jungkook will always be a passionate lover underneath the sheets. Some days, it might be all you can hold on to.

‘‘Yeah? You want so much, baby.’’ He continues to trail messy kisses down your throat, traveling lower until he reaches your hardened nipples. His free hand flicks it twice before he takes the sensitive bud in between his lips and starts sucking with no shame, teeth grazing with a slight sting. ‘‘And I give it all to you like an idiot, even when you don’t deserve it. What makes you think you deserve to feel good?’’

‘‘I apologized, Kook.’’ You defend yourself, heat pooling in your lower belly when his lips sink lower. Tasting every inch of you until he stops just above your begging heat. ‘‘Please, baby, right now I just… need you.’’

A low hum leaves him as if telling you he understands. With a single, last kiss does he finish off, hands sweetly running over your thighs like he’s thinking. “Let’s compromise.’’ He then says, looking up at you. “I’m eating this sweet pussy, but you don’t cum unless I tell you so.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Clear?’’

You nod eagerly. “I can do that.’’

He only strikes you with a satisfied smile before he averts his focus. Large hands curl around the back of your thighs to keep you in place and the excitement rushes through you merely at the feeling. Your pussy is pulsing beneath him only at the thought of having him so close to you and it pushes his ego. “And I wanna hear you, sweetheart. Understand me?’’

“Yes, Kook,’’ you wail, feeling the impatience tug at you.

A desperate whimper cut short leaves your pretty lips when he pushes your panties aside again, this time until he’s able to fully expose your bare heat. You’re sensitive and a little swollen beneath him, eagerly awaiting his touch. That, or his lovemaking. He doesn’t know which one it is, but he is convinced it doesn’t matter. When he gets to watch you like this, so needy for his touch and desperate for his attention, then ultimately, Jungkook feels like he has won.

Yes, Jeon Jungkook needs to win petty games because it’s obvious you don’t need him like you used to. Some days you barely talk to each other, and others, you don’t even see each other. You fetch for yourself and so does your husband. No issue, he often tells his friends when they ask about your relationship and its rocky road. Part of life, it’s gonna cool off, is what he says. Though when he’s got you beneath him like this, moaning and whining his name in utter desperation, then yes, he remembers what it is like to be wanted by you. And yes, he needs to win that game.

“Always so perfect for me,’’ he mumbles more to himself than to you as he spreads your lips apart with two thick fingers. Blowing cool air directly on your drenched cunt, curious to see how sensitive you really are. And to say he’s pleased when he watches you flinch away with that cute little gasp coming from your throat, is an understatement. “Have you touched yourself since the last time I fucked you, baby?’’

He knows he has. Jungkook has thought of you in the shower, a door away from where you were sound asleep. Or on the downstairs sofa, the night you were out with a couple women down the block. And most embarrassingly of all, locked in one of the bathroom stalls at the office, when you were too angry over his late hours to give him a call back. He watches your face distort, trying to read whatever it is he expects you to say. “Be honest with me, there is no wrong answer.’’ He mellows, a single finger continuing to stroke your folds ever so gently.

“Yes…’’

He hums. “Yes, what?’’

“Yes, I touched myself since you last fucked me.’’

It’s been a long week since he last fucked you. Your husband had been busy preparing for his upcoming business trip, while you were upset with him for prioritizing work over your marriage. Both of you were angry with each other. Though, despite the high tensions, neither of you was willing to break the standoff by dropping your cold shoulder and making the first move. Until now. “What did you think of when you were touching yourself?’’ He asks you quietly, tip of his tongue slipping out to lick a bold stripe at your wet folds. “Was it my mouth?’’ It’s a gentle move at first, though Jungkook grows more focused on the sensitive bud of your clit when your little whines increase. Taking it in his mouth and sucking on it just to hear you stumble beneath him.

“Yes, I was thinking about your mouth on me,’’ you’re out of breath when you finally speak and Jungkook snickers into your heat at the fragile state he’s got you in. “Also your fingers, Kook.’’

“What about them?’’ He breaks free from your lips, thumb back at your clit and rubbing in sweet circles before you can comprehend it. “You imagined me fucking you with my fingers?’’ His other hand reaches down to play a little at your hole, teasing as a string of wetness attaches to his finger.

“Yes, Kook, please.’’ You groan out loud, ‘’I need you to fuck me.’’

His mouth is back on you as soon as the words come out. Little pools of saliva drip from his lip and fall onto your cunt until you’re a mess beneath him, rolling your hips into his face and growing desperate for some sort of release. Jungkook hums sternly with the bud in between his soft lips as a warning, the sensation of it pushing you even more off the edge. “You wanna be fucked, baby?’’ He asks you like it isn’t obvious in the way your face seems to glow with delight, eyes shut so tight and lips so pursed you might explode. “What is it? Your own fingers didn’t satisfy you?’’

A thick finger enters your slick fold just as his words get through. Curling inside your tight walls as his tongue flicks to make a return. “Need yours,’’ you cry, his tongue making circular motions onto your clit for as long as he feels you tighten around him, encouraging him to fasten the pace and make you cry on his tongue. “Yours always make me feel better.’’

“Hm, yeah?’’ He buzzes, eating your needy whines up. ‘’Pretty baby can’t make herself feel good so she needs me to do the job for her?’’ Your moans are like music to his ears, adding another finger to your tight warmth and fucking in and out of you until your moans aren’t recognizable anymore.

He pumps in and out of your warmth until you’re squirming beneath him, until he is satisfied with the sounds your cunt makes for him. Wetness coating his fingers as proof he is the only one out there who makes you feel this good. The only one who gets you to roll your eyes to the back of your head in absolute bliss. It sparks his ego, alright. Jungkook can’t stop the smile from spreading onto his lips when you grip his wrist tightly, holding onto him because his pace sends you to your high a little too quickly. He curls his fingers inside you once more, rubbing your sweet walls to remind you how much you need him to be yours.

“Jungkook, I’m gonna cum.’’ There is a layer of desperation he hasn’t heard in a while, and fuck, it is an addicting sound coming from you.

Jungkook’s tongue clicks at the roof of his mouth, tsking loudly. “We had a deal, baby. Want to remind me what we agreed on?’’ His fingers reach deeper into your pussy and he rolls his tongue more passionately onto your clit, his hot breath fanning over your skin as you try to run back on it. “Remind me, ___.’’

The stern tone throws you off guard and you might be imagining things, but you swear he fucks you a little harder the longer you stay quiet. “I can’t cum without your permission.’’

“See who listens if she tries a little?’’ He throws in a wink just to get to you, ‘’So we’re gonna be patient, aren’t we? You told me you could do it, ___. ’’

There it was. That sweet tone of his that always drives you off the edge. His eyes tease when they meet yours, something challenging gleaming in them as if he’s already won your little game. And with the way you squill when he rewards you with a particularly harsh suck at your sensitive clit, he might be closer to crossing the finishing line than you are. He knows that, too. Feels it in the way you fumble as you lay there, in the way your pussy clenches around his thick fingers.

“I can,” you defend yourself, although it doesn’t sound convincing. Not when you’re so out of breath.

Jungkook snickers at you like he’s amused. He finds it endearing how you’re trying so hard to remain calm underneath him. You’re so stubborn, so sure of yourself like he hasn’t known you for almost a decade. Like he hasn’t been given ten years to explore you, to know you from the inside out. And whether you forgot about it or not, there was a time when Jungkook read through you and you loved it. There was a time when you were his, and he was yours. A time when you wore that diamond around your finger with pride.

“Gonna miss this sweet pussy when I’m gone.” He’s talking about his trip. But you don’t want to hear about it, and he knows. He sees it in the way your face crumbles and the sighs of pleasure turn into ones of distress. Jungkook reaches up to you, two fingers still buried to the hilt until he hovers above you. The warmth radiating off his chest is addictive no matter how many times you’d deny it. He locks your lips with his in a swift motion, dancing together like you weren’t shooting lasers at each other earlier today. A lewd moan leaves you when he bites down your bottom lip, the sensational sting holding on to it even when his teeth let go. “Are you gonna miss me?”

I miss you every day, is what lies at the tip of your tongue. Though you realize it sounds a bit too sentimental for the current state of your relationship you find yourselves in. So you opt to respond with beats of silence instead. You figure it wouldn’t complicate things. It breaks his heart a little when his answer is filled with only the sound of his fingers pumping in and out your pussy, but he knows he isn’t one to dwell. “I’ll bring you something pretty back.’’

You figured he would bring something exquisite back with him. It is just the way he does things. Always bringing something pretty back home and never returning from his trips empty-handed. Jimmy Choo high heels, Prada mini handbags, you name it—he has a knack for finding you the most coveted items. Though right now, you don’t care about any of that. All you want is him, there is no need to offer much else. The thought of his embrace, the way his touch sets your body on fire, it was once enough to fill you with a longing. A craving only he can satisfy. Not some luxury item he’s pulling off his sleeve.

You hold Jungkook’s cheeks to draw him nearer, at a loss for words. You haven’t gotten much to tell him, after all. His warm breath grazes your lips and you’re sure he feels the same thing, eyes flickering from your dark gaze, back to your lips as his fingers slow down. “Jungkook,” you whimper, shivers sending down your spine when he rubs your walls so deliciously slowly. “Make me cum, please.” You beg, silenced by the way his lips meet yours in a fiery, passionate kiss that leaves you a little breathless. He tastes like white wine and sweets, the flavors melting on your tongue in a sensual tango as your fingers run through his perfect locks, pulling him closer as your breaths become ragged.

“You want me, baby?” His lips are swollen when he breaks free, needing confirmation. He hates that he can’t go without.

“So bad,” you tell him, nails sweetly scraping at his jaw when his fingers are buried deep to the knuckles. “Want to cum on your fingers.”

It’s all he needed to hear to be satisfied, the smug smile on his lips dying to make an appearance when you whimper beneath him like you do. “Come for me, princess.” He orders sweetly, a toothy grin lingering as his hot breath falls down your face. “Make me a mess on my fingers.”

You comply gracefully, without needing him to ask twice. As a wave of pleasure pulses through your body, the knot in your lower abdomen unravels, causing your back to arch off the table and your thighs to clamp together until Jungkook’s torso blocks them from doing so. He watches intently, observing the way your jaw drops and your lips part ever so slightly, noticing the crease that form between your eyebrows as your eyes squeeze shut. He wants to preserve this image, to savor it in the recesses of his mind, even when he’s halfway across the world and separated from you.

Your breathing slows down until you come down from your high. Jungkook’s fingers gently slip out of your cunt before they cup your warmth one last time, sweetly spreading your wetness over your folds until he’s satisfied enough and you can’t seem to take any more of his touch, even if they are minor and gentle. You make a deliberate effort to avoid eye contact with him, even though he seems to be pleading with his gaze. He keeps his eye fixed on the side of your face as you drift off, the weight of your breaths gradually easing until the tension between you suddenly tightens. His chest above you becomes a little less warm, and you become a little more cold. Some sort of emptiness arises, both of you can feel it.

Moments ago, you couldn’t even tell him you’d miss him in return. And despite the fact that you might not miss him back, he would much rather have you spew out that little white lie in the heat of the moment than have you stay silent the way you did. It would spare his feelings a little, he wouldn’t mind. But even after your glow died down and the initial rush subsided, you couldn’t even meet his gaze. You know your relationship is, and has never been solely based on sex; that much was evident from the beginning. So why are you acting as if it is?

“You don’t gotta.’’ He says simply, not wanting to elaborate much further as the issue at hand becomes more apparent, becoming clear to him. However, for you, he doesn’t have a clue what is going through your mind. But for him, the problem nags at him to the point where he can’t find it in him to come up with a solution. Where he doesn’t necessarily want to find one.

You stare back at him with big, puzzled eyes. “I don’t mind.’’ You shrug, hands falling limp on your sides. “Do you?’’

You observe as Jungkook’s lips purse together and his eyes start to wander around the room as if looking for something fascinating. He shifts his weight to one leg as his hands slide into his pockets. “Yeah,’’ he mumbles in a low voice with a frown, no indication of humor on his face.

You wait for him to provide an explanation. Maybe he’s simply worn from today’s events and wants to head to bed early. To go upstairs and take a long, hot shower after he worked his ass off behind that screen. It was only last week when Seulgi brought the topic of sex to the table, at first suggesting you’d attempt to see each other more often during the day. Maybe go out for lunch together during his breaks, or have breakfast together before he takes off.

No way, Jungkook told her then. Breakfast, lunch and dinner are spent behind his laptop screen and it’d be impossible to shift around the schedule, let alone picking you up and bringing you back home by the time his break ends.

You’d have to find the time some way or another if you want this to work, she said. Try having more sex, she then suggested, attempt to rekindle that spark that brought you together in the first place through more intimate, private methods and connect to each other in your most vulnerable ways. Intimacy can help reignite the passion in some relationships, is what she tried to convince you of.

A bunch of crap, you swear. Two hundred bucks an hour for advice you could’ve found at the back of some middle-aged gossip magazine? Not when he has an obvious hard one hiding in his pants and rejects you like he has better things to do than to _“reignite the passion you share that has brought you together.’’ _

Especially when you haven’t fucked ever since that day.

Jungkook’s lack of response speaks volumes, leaving you feeling frustrated and disrespected. If he doesn’t want to fuck you, he could just say so.

Screw him and screw Kang Seulgi. You refuse to settle for a partner who rejects your advances, or a therapist with shallow suggestions. You deserve a partner who is willing to put in the effort to keep the spark alive in your relationship, and not just dismiss your needs with a simple swipe of his card at Seulgi’s office.

The week continues much like the way you and Jungkook prefer to handle things—tons of escapism and much less communication than is probably needed. In your defense, your husband will leave the country in a little over a week, and all the issues you could address and possibly solve now would still be forgotten and buried by the time he travels back home. It’s pointless, you think. You figure there just isn’t much to talk about in such short amount of time, and Jungkook must think something similar; it is evident in the way your backs face each other every night of the week, the way he eats dinner at the dining table in the living room while you do it at the kitchen counter, the way either of you can barely look at each other for longer than a few seconds. Your pride is too high to break through your walls.

Car rides have never been this dreadful before.

It is only when Jungkook stops in front of a red light that manages to steal a glance at you in the passenger’s seat. His demeanor stays cool, with his tattooed hand on the wheel as he sits back and takes the opportunity to observe you. His inked sleeve is on display, with his dress shirt rolled up all the way up to his elbows, although he is required to cover up in mere moments before you arrive at the business event that got you so dolled up, surrounded by tens of his colleagues.

You’re typing away on your phone screen on his side. Long, almond shaped nails tapping against the device as if you’re setting several emergency meetings up for the upcoming hour.

Kim Joohyun no. 5 | So, you haven’t had sex in over a week? He didn’t want to at all?

You | I don’t know what it is that he wants. He doesn’t fucking talk.

Kim Joohyun no. 5 | Maybe he’s relieving it somewhere else. Any big fights gone on between you two recently?

The text causes you to pause. You look up, looking a little puzzled with the way eyebrows furrow. Jungkook catches on quickly, meeting your eye for a split second before you tear your eyes back to your tiny screen. You’re not sure what Joohyun is implying and neither do you care enough to know. You may make Jungkook out for a lot of things a lot of the time, but you know there is one thing he is not.

You | You better not say what I think you’re saying. Lol.

Jeon Jungkook is not a cheater.

The implication pisses you off as you let your phone fall to your lap, arms folding over another. He watches as you’re visibly bothered, instantly recognizing that look on your face because he has seen it a dozen times already. The pursed, glossed lips and the clenched jaw, it’s a classic. Jungkook isn’t sure who pissed you off to the point where you’re not even arguing with him, but he doubts you’ll tell him. His eyes are on you but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging him. Instead, you remain silent, your annoyance palpable in the air.

Jungkook clears his throat, ‘‘Is something wrong?’’ He speaks over the radio, a careful start.

You can’t help it. You’ve been with the man for almost a decade, and sure, not always has it been pretty, but somehow it has worked. Maybe it was your first mistake to tell Kim Joohyun about the therapy sessions and the whole Kang Seulgi issue at hand, but you needed an outlet. Something close to a friend who would listen to you since Jungkook was always out of the house. Now you’re stuck with random people implying your husband doesn’t need your sex, that he’s fine finding it someplace else. You so dearly hope you misunderstood her, because your heart pounds a little faster, chest grows a little tighter.

Your head lolls to the backrest of your seat as you take a deep breath, eyes set on the scenery outside. ‘‘It’s just something Joohyun said,’’ you finally say. The sky above you paints an array of pinks and purples, a beautiful sight if only you weren’t feeling so sour right now.

Jungkook nods like he understands, fingers tapping against the steering wheel as his head softly nods along to the music at the radio. ‘‘I see. Do you want to talk about it?’’

The words throw you off guard. You can’t help but stare back as he looks at you with a patient, and rather relaxed demeanor. You can’t recall the last time where either of you suggested to talk. It must’ve been a long time. It’s rare, that is. You shake your head slowly, swallowing before your head falls back to your seat. ‘‘No, it’s nothing,’’ you murmur, eyes back out of the window.

He clicks his tongue softly. ‘‘Alright. If you say so,’’ Jungkook says, quick to dismiss the offer, and something inside of you wishes he pushed a little further. Moments of silence continue to fill the car, with the only sound coming from the radio and the soft hum of the car’s engine. ‘‘You like the dress?’’ He reaches out to lower the volume, eyes scanning down your body, where the simple, strapless silhouette of the Valentino mini dress hugs your curves so charmingly. Worn as a vision of elegance with the way you do it, he knew you’d like it too. 

‘‘I do. Thank you.’’ You say, only now having the chance to thank him for the luxury item you found on the kitchen counter this morning, just like Jungkook’s text told you where to find it. The message didn’t say much, just that the dress was there and that he’d pick you up straight after work for the business event he was invited to. You got the hint, styled the dress with some jewelry that matched the rich, ivory white fabric and you picked out your prettiest heels. The Jimmy Choo ones with the bow that you knew Jungkook loved so much. You’re not sure how long it took for you to get ready, maybe an hour or two tops, but you know you took your time. Maybe because you wanted to look pretty for him, knowing he probably wanted to see you in the dress if he bought it for you.

His eyes travel to your legs, also leaning back in his seat as his foot hovers over the gas pedal, the car humming as it moves forward a little. ‘‘Thought everybody should see you in it tonight.”

Reality rushes back to you, then. Jungkook doesn’t care about you _or _the dress. Your husband only cares about the way the both of you will be perceived tonight. By his colleagues, by his friends and by his acquaintances. Yes, you’re looking stunning tonight. Your hair sits flawlessly and your legs have never looked sexier before. But what does that matter when he can’t proudly put his arm around you and call you his?

The light turns green and he tears his eyes off you, back to the road. ‘‘But I hope you get to smile a little more by the time we’re there.’’

There’s an attitude to the statement, leaving you a little in awe. ‘‘I don’t really feel like smiling,’’ you declare, arms folded. It’s a sassy response, one he catches on to instantly and you know it, considering the way he side-eyes you from behind the wheel. The glances he throws your way burning at your head.

‘‘I don’t need you acting petty, ___.’’ He chuckles, though there is no humor to it. ‘‘I know we’ve got a lot of our own shit to worry about, but we don’t need any of that tonight. Please,’’ he adds, ‘‘just be there with your head.’’

You feel a surge of anger rising inside you at his words. How dare he tell you how to feel and how to act? You take a deep breath, voice already shaking from the way he works you up. ‘‘So you want me to pretend all is good in front of everyone? Because you know it isn’t.’’

Jungkook’s jaw tightens, a heavy sigh leaving his lips as he presses the pedal a bit harder, grip tightening around the wheel. ‘‘I’m asking you to keep it down,’’ he argues, ‘‘there’s no need for us to be mixing business with private matters in front of these people–it doesn’t concern them. We can talk about everything else later, I just want to get through with it for tonight.’’

You scoff. ‘‘Funny you say that, considering we haven’t exchanged a word all week.’’

Jungkook’s eyes flicker to you for a brief second before focusing back on the road. ‘‘Not now, ___.’’ He insists, ‘‘I promise we can talk about anything you want the minute we’re back home, just not now.’’

‘‘Now you just need me to be perfect. Got it.’’

His grip on the wheel tightens even more, the tension radiating off him. You never make the effort to try and understand him. ‘‘You know that’s not what I’m asking,’’ he says through gritted teeth. ‘‘All I want from you is to act professional. It’s not the time or the place for this shit, ___. We can deal with everything else later.’’

You don’t agree but keep it to yourself just to save either of your energy. The rest of the ride is quiet, but far from peaceful. It takes not much longer than twenty dreadful minutes before you arrive at the grand hotel as you waste no time getting the hell out of Jungkook’s Benz to breathe some fresh air, dusting some imaginary dirt off the ends of your dress while your mini bag hangs in the crook of your arm. The valet rushes to your sides, taking care of his car keys before Jungkook leads the two of you inside with his large hand burnt to your lower back. It takes everything to keep yourself sane, to not rip his touch off you as he sends his prettiest, most charming smiles to people you only know the faces of.

The dimmed lobby is bustling with people as you make your entrance, all dressed up in their finest attire and sipping on champagne while chatting amongst themselves. The night passes uneventfully, with the occasional surge of excitement as the guests mingle and socialize. You’re grateful for the attentive staff, who makes sure your glass is full throughout the night. Mainly sticking by Jungkook’s side with champagne as your only friend, an arm looping around his own as you lean into him and fall back into your own world.

New colleagues of his stumble in left and right, and you admire your husband’s ability to remember each of their names and faces. You, on the other hand, stopped keeping track of whoever stands before you. You figured it is easier to become the wife Jungkook wants to represent you when you keep your mouth shut and merely stand there looking pretty. Designer dripping off you as your hand caresses over his chest in circles with a sweet, dimpled smile on your face.

‘‘I would’ve worn my fancy tie if you told me your girlfriend was this beautiful, Jeon,’’ a rough, low voice interrupts. ‘‘You know, the one that lightens up when you press the button.’’

Before you stand an older couple, their eyes crinkling with sweet wrinkles and sparkling with warmth the minute you lock eyes with them. They mirror you, where their arms loop together and move in perfect sync. Jungkook chuckles on your side, cute apples of his cheeks making an appearance. ‘‘Mr. and Mrs. Choi,’’ he exclaims, moving to place his hand just above the swell of your ass before pulling you closer into him, though his touch leaves a chill in its wake. ‘‘I take it you haven’t met my wife yet.’’

‘‘Oh, dear Lord,’’ the woman known as Mrs. Choi squeals as she gladly takes your hand in hers. Hers are warm and embrace yours gently, only now knowing you sipped a bit too much champagne when the movement throws you off guard. “I keep insisting that Jungkook needs to bring you to the office so I can meet this pretty face but he won’t budge,” she says, keeping your hand warm in between hers. “Now I get why he wants to keep you to himself—you’re a doll.”

You snicker a little at the comment, feeling the champagne flush at your cheeks at the older lady’s words. Jungkook’s thumb runs in small circles at your hip. “Isn’t she?” He speaks, softly pulling you towards him. “Why would I share with anyone?”

The Choi couple share smiles of delight, visibly over the moon when Jungkook pulls you closer to his side and plants a sweet kiss on your temple. “A married man,” Mr. Choi sighs with fondness in his eyes, hands gesturing your way as if to say look at you. “I wouldn’t have known for the love of God, son. It’s wonderful to witness young love well and alive.”

Jungkook wears his prettiest smile, obviously enjoying the way Mr. and Mrs. Choi worship at his feet. He takes your free hand in his own before he pulls it up for a showcase, the shining diamond around your ring finger glinstering beneath the warm lights. “We mark 7 years this season.” He seems proud as he speaks, the close lipped smile telling them all they need to know.

Mrs. Choi holds an exaggerated hand to her chest, eyes growing wide at the piece of jewelry. “You must be so proud of him,” she glows when she speaks to you. “You’ve got the office’s heartthrob in your hold, dear. I can guarantee you he’s taking that award home tonight.”

“Businessman of the Year!” Mr. Choi exclaims with theatrical hands, fading away before you. “I can see it, kid. The title looks good on you.”

“Oh, I won’t assume anything.” Jungkook snickers on your side, pretty dimples visible when he smiles. “I don’t intend on winning tonight. I’ve got strong competitors to see eye to eye.”

It’s not that you’re not proud of all that Jungkook has accomplished, but the bitter smile returns and is barely perceptible. You doubt anyone notices. Hell, Jungkook’s pride seems to consume him, too far gone to notice you straying away in his warm hold. It astounds you how his colleagues seem to put him on a pedestal, quite literally worshiping the ground he walks on and hanging onto every word he says.

“They got nothing on you.” Mrs. Choi argues with a light scoff before her toothy smile returns. “But I get it. Who wants to win some trivial award when you already got your hands on the most beautiful gem in the room, right?” She throws the compliment your way, a wink thrown in there but your stomach tightens at the words all the same.

Jungkook’s gaze lingers on you, his eyes searching for a connection that seems elusive. “You know, we’re all so consumed by the road to success that we sometimes don’t realize what we already got,” he begins, eyes back at the Choi couple when you refuse to look back at him. “If tonight ends without that award, I’d be more than content to celebrate with just the two of us. Just like we always have done—years on end.”

“That’s what love is about.” Mrs. Choi nods with a tilted head like she understands. Like you and Jungkook will go home tonight and make love with butterflies in the pit of your stomach, hearts fluttering with anticipation, and a sense of triumph in the air. She probably wouldn’t smile so wide if she knew the ground you’re standing on is not so solid. “And that’s why good things come your way, Jungkook. You do everything with so much dedication and love, you should be proud of yourself.”

“It’s true.” Mr. Choi interjects, nodding sagely as he extends a wise finger. “Take that well-deserved promotion for example. It didn’t appear out of thin air, son. You’ve worked hard to earn it.”

You still on Jungkook’s side and he can feel it in an instant. He feels your eyes on him, a piercing gaze that cuts through the chatter of the lobby. His sharp brows furrow slightly as he senses your scrutiny. His voice, tinged with a mix of anticipation and apprehension breaks the silence, hopefully able to remove that big question mark off your forehead. ‘‘Yes, the promotion,’’ He begins, now avoiding your eyes as his fingers loosen at your hip. ‘‘I suppose you’re right, Mr. Choi.’’

Mrs. Choi’s cheerful demeanor suddenly falters, replaced by concern etched onto her face. “Are you feeling alright, dear?’’ She asks you, her voice filled with genuine worry. ‘‘It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You don’t spare Mrs. Choi a single glance when she puts the focus on you, practically forcing Jungkook to lock eyes with you. Your eyes bore into his, your attention solely on Jungkook and his bewildered state. “Promotion, huh?” You say, voice tinged with a touch of resentment. The bitter tone doesn’t go unnoticed. “Funny how you never mentioned anything about a promotion, Jungkook.”

He hesitates, his hand retracting slowly, an obvious gesture of unease. “Well… it was meant to be a surprise,” He pulls out of his ass, a reassuring smile aimed at the elderly couple who already seem remorseful for bringing the topic up, apologetic smiles on their faces. “To be honest, it isn’t that big of a deal anyways. Just a small step up the corporate ladder.”

‘‘A small step up the ladder?’’ You repeat a little louder than you mean to, voice dripping with disappointment. You turn to fully face him, back turned towards Mr. and Mrs. Choi when you do your best to speak through gritted teeth. “I’m not stupid, Jungkook. I know exactly what a promotion entails.”

The room seems to hold its breath, the tension palpable as the air grows heavy with unspoken words and unaddressed grievances. The once-glowing atmosphere now feels suffocating, the sense of disconnect between you and Jungkook impossible to ignore. The weight of your words fall heavy on the tip of your tongue and your eyes tell him that you’re becoming furious, the fire in your eyes burning with an intensity that can’t be contained. How dare he? You’re hanging on to this relationship with every fiber in your body and what does he think is the solution to that? Adding hours to his already demanding contract while you continue to plan more sessions with Kang Seulgi?

Jeon Jungkook’s audacity is truly unbelievable. How could he be so blind to the problems that you’re already trying to tame? He chuckles quietly, devoid of any genuine humor. His eyes dart around the room, scanning for any sign of anyone else besides the Choi couple taking note of the tension. ‘‘I was going to tell you, it’s just that nothing is final yet. I haven’t signed anything,’’ he stammers, attempting to justify him keeping this from you.

‘‘But you were going to.’’ You snarl, jabbing an accusing finger digging into his chest. ‘’Do you even realize what you’re doing, Jungkook? It’s not a matter of when. It’s the fact that you’d do it in a heartbeat, not even taking us into consideration like any decent partner would.’’

‘‘Sweetheart,’’ Mrs. Choi’s tries to interject, voice filled with concern. ‘‘I’m sure he just wanted the moment to be special,’’ Her well-intentioned effort to comfort you falls on deaf ears with a dismissive wave of your hand. You’re not sure if you can take any more of this bullshit tonight, the surge of resentment is swelling within you.

‘‘Please, excuse us,’’ Jungkook says with a forced smile, gently pushing you forward by the small of your back, signaling you’d better walk if you want to talk some more. And walk you do, your arms crossed tightly and lips pressed into a thin line, leading the way out of the sea of people chatting about God knows what.

It doesn’t take long before Jungkook gets held up again. You don’t recognize the face of the taller man who approaches him, and neither are you interested in his being, though the blood rushes to your head when Jungkook starts talking back with that familiar sweet smile. He searches for your eye over the taller man’s shoulder, making sure you’re still there before his polite, charming grin paints his lips again like nothing is wrong. Like you aren’t ready to lose each other.

You make a beeline to the bathroom the moment you realize it. And for just a moment, you find solace from the suffocating air outside the restroom. It happens the moment you lock the door and cover your bare neck in cold tap water, the reflection in the mirror staring back at you as it seems to hit you like a train. You don’t know if you and Jungkook will ever be okay. It might be the alcohol in your system, but the tears that form in the corners of your eyes threaten to escape. It’s difficult to hold them back, but you do it somehow. You wonder if there’s any hope left over, or if this promotion is just another confirmation of his growing distance, a subtle way of telling you there’s little left over to salvage.

Three quiet knocks tap against the bathroom door. ‘‘___, it’s me,’’ his voice booms from the other side and you take a moment to recollect yourself. When you look at yourself in the reflection of the mirror, tears still hang in the corners of your eyes if you pay a little attention and your throat falls dry. “Open up?” He shouldn’t see you like this. You don’t remember the last time Jungkook has seen you cry; the last time he’s seen you vulnerable.

‘‘I need a moment, Jungkook,’’ you reply, shuffling around the small space.

There’s a brief pause before he speaks again, a quiet sigh escaping his lips. ‘‘Please, just let me in. We gotta talk.’’

You hesitate for a moment, the thought of facing him now feels overwhelming. Back there, amidst the crowd of unfamiliar faces, you felt as if you could explode. Steam blowing out of your ears, blood rushing to your head. But right here, in this confined space,  it’s just you and him. Your eyes are slightly glossy and your lips anxiously curl inwards. You don’t know what’s coming over you. You’d much rather have him see you angry, with your head held high.

With a heavy sigh, you turn the lock, leaving the door ajar just wide enough so you can see his face. The tight purse of his lips eases when he takes in your appearance, and you swear you can see a glimmer of softness in his eyes. A flat, tattooed hand gently pushes the door open before he enters with his hands tucked in the pockets of his dress pants. Your fingers curl over the edge of the sink when you stumble back and lean against it, watching as he closes the door behind him and locks it.

Silence hangs heavily in the air, overtaking you. Neither of you can help it. There’s nothing to bicker about when it seems like you’re at the verge of breaking down, so silence it is. ‘‘Then talk,’’ you say, voice distant. ‘‘You’re not talking. You said we needed to.’’

Jungkook’s gaze flickers with something you can’t place. You hope it has something to do with regret and determination. He takes a step closer, closing the space between you. ‘‘What happened out there,’’ he starts, voice quiet when a finger points towards the door. ‘‘It was unnecessary, ___.’’

You shouldn’t have opened that door for him like a fool, expecting he wouldn’t spit in your face like that. You don’t know what it is you want him to tell you, but for some reason, you yearn for something that sounds like an apology. You stare into his eyes, searching for any sign of sincerity. ‘‘You waltz in here like that and that’s the first thing you say? Cut me some slack, Jungkook, please,’’

His jaw tenses, a sign of growing frustration. ‘‘___, we had a deal. No business mixing with whatever problems we have. Not tonight… not when tonight is supposed to be special.’’ Jungkook quietly reminds you, taking another step closer until your chests almost touch. ‘‘And as for the promotion,’’ he sighs heavily, his hand tugging at his tie with a frustrated huff. ‘‘I was going to tell you when it was just you and me–just us, away from all of these people. That was going to be our damn moment.’’ Jungkook spits, teeth grinding together as his brows furrow. ‘‘They had no business opening their mouths on it, but they did anyway. So if you want to be mad, then fine, do your thing. I didn’t mean for you to find out like this, but you did.’’

The small room feels suffocating, tension building with each passing second. Your tears are long forgotten every time he opens that big mouth of his, because the anger seems to consume you. ‘‘I don’t fucking care about any of that,’’ you scoff, pushing yourself off the edge of the sink with a head held high. Now you’re the one stepping closer. ‘‘It’s the idea that you would even accept all those extra hours and responsibilities when you know,’’ there is a heavy pause for you to catch your breath, a finger digging so deep in his chest it makes him stumble back a step. ‘‘When you know what is going to happen to us if you take this.’’

Jungkook’s eyes narrow, his own frustration surfacing. ‘‘And what’s happening?’’ He retorts, his voice filled with defiance. ‘‘How can you expect me to turn an opportunity like this down when I’ve worked so hard for it? I worked my ass off for this, proved my fucking worth and ended up deserving it. I haven’t even reached the age of 30 and chances like these don’t just appear out of thin air, ___. I’ve got colleagues twice my age trying to achieve what is waiting for me to grasp.’’

The intensity of the argument rises, voices echoing off the walls and you’re sure people passing on the outside hear every word. You scoff, a humorless laugh escapes you. ‘‘So this is all about your precious career, isn’t it?’’ You hold up your hand, where your wedding ring catches his eye. ‘‘You made me a promise, too. Long ago, before you knew any of those people you’re trying to prove your worth to.’’

Jungkook’s face flushes with frustration, his hands clenched into fists before they settle at your hips and shoves you back until you’re leaned against the sink again. Though not too harsh. He is never too harsh. ‘‘Why can you never be satisfied?’’ He mumbles, anger giving way to hurt. ‘‘This is my chance to provide for us, to make sure we have a future that we deserve living. Why won’t you support me, be by my fucking side?’’

Bitter laughter escapes your lips, almost grazing his own. ‘‘Support you? How can I support you when you’re digging us deeper into the ground? We’re already so close to reaching the fucking limits. So close to becoming everything we’re trying not to be and then you continue on to pull this crap? It’s like you’re waiting for us to call it quits.”

Jungkook’s anger simmers beneath the surface, his grip on your hips tightening as he fully closes the distance between your bodies. His dark, sharp gaze is fixed on you, the air between you crackling with tension at the false accusation. A blend of frustration and desire when you meet his intense gaze, the moment overwhelming you, and without a word, he closes the distance between you, crashing his lips against yours in a passionate, fiery kiss.

The kiss is fueled by a mix of anger and desire, the electricity between you undeniable. Each touch and movement speaks volumes, conveying a complex blend of emotions that words fail to express. As your lips move against his, you can feel the weight of the argument still hanging in the air, but for a moment, it's forgotten. Until he speaks against you. ‘‘That’s the last time you’re gonna accuse me of something so ridiculous. Got it?’’

Between heated kisses, angry whispers escape your lips. "You can't just expect me to follow blindly," you mutter, your voice laced with frustration. "We're too close to the edge already."

Jungkook’s hands find their way to the small of your back, pulling you closer, his voice husky as he responds. ‘‘I know, but I’m trying.’’

It is all he says, and you fight the urge to say something back just because you feel like you’ve had enough for one night. You’re the one to pull away first, a flat hand to his hard chest as you push him off with ease, no fight, no nothing. The momentary connection fades and a sense of unease settles between you. You exchange a final gaze, unresolved emotions and unspoken words clear in the air. It’s obvious that the underlying issue remains unresolved, and with that, you both walk out of the ladies’ room together. Side by side, like everything is fine. The bitter taste of the argument still hangs onto your tongues but you choose to ignore it even though there is no way you can get rid of it tonight.

Jungkook stops before the bustling crowd, causing you to stop in your tracks as well. His hand delves into the inner pocket of his jack, retrieving his wallet as he goes through the contents. With a subdued voice, he offers you his card. ‘‘Here,’’ he says quietly. ‘‘Go buy yourself something to drink. I’ll be over there talking to some people if you need me.’’

You accept the money silently, a slight nod of acknowledgement before you part ways, heading toward the bar while Jungkook navigates through the crowd. As you order your drink, the bitterness of the argument still weighs on your mind, the unresolved issues swirling in your thoughts.

Your husband hasn’t spared you much of a second glance after he handed you the money, already too busy mingling with his colleagues to notice that the bottom of your cocktail glass is starting to show. As he brings his own glass back to his pretty lips to sip on his dry wine all the way on the other side of the lobby, you continue to listen to the nameless people around you and the award he might be winning tonight. Jungkook this, Jungkook that—it might drive you crazy.

It drives you crazy, and you would probably never admit it out loud, but you feel smaller without Jungkook’s presence so close to you, without his arm secured around your waist, your chest tighter than he seems to realize. You don’t need him to feel confident, you know. You don’t need any man in order to make you feel secure about yourself. Though tonight, even though it is only for a little while, his absence feels a little more pronounced than usual, and you don’t like to feel like some fraught, single woman in her late 20s. It unsettles you, and you don’t mean to feel like it.

You’re counting fifteen minutes when you realize you’ve been staring at him for too long. Jungkook seems to be in his element, watching as you occasionally meet his eye from across the room before he rips his gaze off you, interrupted by another coworker every two minutes as they block your sight. More small talk with the man of the night as he’s sucking it up like second nature. Adoring the constant praises he’s receiving throughout the entire event. A charming smile paints his features, one that makes him look smug as hell.

“That dress makes up for the fact that you look like you don’t want to be found dead in here.” A low voice booms from behind the bar, “Valentino, no?”

The rim of the cocktail glass in your hand detaches from your lips when you realize you’re being spoken to, another spot painted a smoked almond shade at the edge. “Good eye,” you nod, high heels impatiently tapping against the steel of the barstool. It’s the first interaction since the Choi couple took notice of your distress, and suddenly, you feel a little less invincible. .

“I know a thing or two.” The owner of the velvety voice reveals himself, emerging from behind the massive camera cradled in his veiny hands. Smooth, jet black curls cascade over his forehead as a troublesome grin broadens on the unknown’s glistening lips. He briefly catches your eye before shifting his focus back to the display in his grip. Rounding the bar, he comes to sit at the edge of the stool next to you. “You seem to be a natural. Ever thought of a career shift and dropping this business ordeal?”

The picture on the display reveals. It’s not bad, you look greater than any other night, the effort you put in tonight’s look clear to see. But he’s joking, though you can barely crack a smile. “Oh, please, I’m just a plus one.”

“I see.” The man who you now assume to be tonight’s cameraman leans over the edge of the bar as he allows his camera to hang low at his neck. He subtly searches for your eye and when you meet his gaze, indicating that he’s got your attention, he pulls his focus back to the crowd, a finger beneath his nose as if he’s deep in thought. “So, which one of those pricks is responsible for making you sit here by yourself all night?”

You roll your eyes but a suppressed snicker betrays your amusement, prompting the corners of his own mouth to lift as well. Shaking your head, you choose to ignore the derogatory remark about your husband, though it might feel good if someone else would openly share your sentiments right now. “The same prick I’ve been with for the past six years,” you point Jungkook’s way when you speak, leaning a little more to the man’s side to give a good point of view. “He’s a busy guy,” you remark, Jungkook looking devilishly expensive when he’s networking, his navy blue Prada suit shimmering beneath the dim lightning. His jet black hair is slicked back and he’s never looked sexier before. Such a shame you’re not talking.

“The man of the night himself.” The guy huffs at your side, back leaning against the bar as he’s no longer interested in Jungkook, eye solely on you now. “I’m not really supposed to shoot plus ones tonight, he’d have to be in the picture for that,” he taps at his camera. “A shame he’s too busy to bat an eye when she’s looking this lovely tonight.”

A dagger to the heart, but you take it lightly. You pause as you finally take a good look into this sharp, cat-like gaze of his. A sly looking smile tugs at the corners of his lips when your eyes meet. “Complimenting a married woman? How audacious of you.”

He shrugs indifferently. “He isn’t doing it, so,” he says nonchalantly before he pulls himself together, a polite hand to his chest when he speaks. “Pardon me. It’s just that I’ve never been good at keeping thoughts to myself.”

You cock a single brow. “Is that so?”

He catches on to the challenge that’s hidden in your voice, the slight attitude you’re subtly bringing over. He pauses for a moment, reading your face before he continues. “Yeah,” he confirms quietly, though his voice is low enough to recall mischief. His eyes lower a little down your dress before he takes out his hand. “Kim Taehyung. I’m tonight’s photographer.”

You accept his hand, hot and tight around your own. It feels refreshing in some way or another, his eyes locking with yours again when his head tilts just slightly, tongue slipping out to wet his pink lips. “It’s good to meet you,” You tell him, returning your prettiest smile, “I’m ___.”

Taehyung stills. “God damn.” He curses quietly, just a whisper above his breath. “I knew you had to be from someplace else—you’re one of Minnie’s girls.”

His words take time to process. There is only one Minnie you’d know. “You mean, Minnie Chang?” You query, frowning when his knowing finger bounces your way. “My modeling agent? You know her?”

“Sure,” he beams, shoulders visibly relaxing as he sits at the edge of his seat. “I run shoots with Minnie’s girls all the time. We just wrapped up an upcoming November issue. It’s such a pity she never sets me up to shoot your covers, we use your references all the time.” His sharp eyes darken, running down your figure again. “We’d kill the job together, if you’d ask me.”

Your cheeks flush a little at the statement. “Oh, well, we probably would.” You stumble, still trying to catch on. “Though Minnie no longer works for me. I quit modeling some time ago, which is probably why we never worked together.”

Taehyung’s pretty lips part when his head tilts even more, a light and humorless chuckle escaping. “I mean, do tell me you’re screwing with me.” The smile ghosts his lips, though this time a little died down. Your silence answers his questions and the sheepish grin only adds on to it. “Forgive me for being so straightforward, but I’ve seen your works, ___. No one in their right mind would want to give such potential up for some mingling on the side bar.”

Taehyung jokes again but there’s a bit of truth hidden in it, and neither of you dare to laugh too loudly over it. You sigh, bringing the glass back to your lips even though your drink is almost finished. “You’d be surprised what love does to people.” You chuckle but it holds no humor, you just sound so ironic. Taehyung’s eyes rip away from you to scan the lobby in search for the man in question, easily found in the sea of people because Jeon Jungkook just works like that. Wherever he goes, your husband seems to carry this magnetism with him. People fall in love with him left and right, and you don’t blame them for it. Look at where you are. “I wanted to go wherever he went. Now I’m just trying to live up to the consequences.”

Taehyung hears as you try to laugh it off, chuckling softly and unable to match your energy. “I’ll give you my card,” he then decides, digging into the inner pocket of his jacket as a set of protests already stumble off your lips. “No buts,” he warns. “My office line is on there. Do whatever you want with it, but just know that you can always hit my line whenever you’re done dealing with the consequences.”

“Taehyung,” you start but it holds no weight, watching as he nips the piece of paper in between his fingers. “You don’t gotta do that.” His eyes draw back to your lips before they flicker back to meet your gaze, the curly locks at his forehead almost preventing you from doing so, seemingly darkening his eyes.

He shakes his head. “It doesn’t have to be anything big, ___.” His voice lowers, deepening as his breath almost fans your cheeks. It’s hot. A little alarming. “I own a studio downtown where we could meet up someday. I’ll shoot us a couple photos, and if you want, we could add some to your portfolio. If it feels right, you’ll know,” he says, clearly catching on to the glint in your eyes. “If it doesn’t, then all I am is wrong. But you can’t convince me you’re feeling content, sitting on the sidebar waiting for that idiot to come to his senses.”

You know Taehyung just earned himself a slap across the cheek for the degrading comments about Jungkook. For the assumptions he’s so quick to make when he’s met you five minutes ago. Probably no less than a hard push against the shoulder too, but you hold back from doing so when his words speak to you in some way. Somewhere not so deep down, you know Taehyung made some points. It has nothing to do with the rich cologne that embraces you when he stands this close, or the darkened gaze that tries to meet your own when you rip your eyes away.

“Take it.” He waves his card in the air before he gently tosses it at the bar in front, next to your empty glass. “I don’t expect you to do anything with it, but it’d feel good knowing you have it. Who knows what good it’ll bring.”

You don’t hesitate but pause anyway, meeting his eye and the moment that famous grin paints his lips, you can’t stop yourself from copying it. “Thank you. I’ll keep it somewhere safe.” You say, taking his card.

It surprises you how at ease Taehyung makes you feel afterwards. Once his card is out of sight, hidden in the safety of your handbag, he doesn’t pry further about any more modeling shoots or your forgotten career. Nor does he bring Jungkook up again, even though everyone else around you can’t seem to shut up about the man. It’s a peaceful feeling, distracted from the eye of reality because of this man who excels at making small talk. He’s chatting away about his camera, pointing at elements you don’t know the names of as he explains the functions of them.

You don’t listen. You haven’t been listening for a while and wonder how you stumbled upon this topic instead. It’s not a bad thing; Kim Taehyung makes you feel comfortable and that’s all there is to it. You appreciate him for fading your surroundings off.

It doesn't take long before a large hand rests above the swell of your ass, stroking sweet circles there. “Are you ready? They’ll start presenting the awards soon.” Jungkook’s voice booms at your left, sending a jolt of surprise through your body. You turn to face him, finding him standing there with his usual confident demeanor, contrasting with the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. The touch of his hand on your backside feels a little more possessive the longer you take your time to respond.

You glance over at Taehyung, who also seems to have noticed the change of atmosphere. His expression remains composed, a hint of curiosity glimmering in his eyes. “Yeah, I’m ready,” you say before you hop off the barstool and recollect yourself. “It was so good meeting you, Taehyung. I hope we get to talking soon.” You slide your mini bag over your shoulder, an apologetic smile at your lips. “I’m sorry for keeping you so occupied, I know you’re on the clock.”

His lips only curl into a warm smile that seems to reassure you, a small shake of his head shrugging you off as if to say you shouldn’t have to worry. Your attention reverts back to Jungkook, noting that his gaze is already fixed on you as he searches for something you can’t decipher. “Okay, I’m ready,” you repeat, this time a little more determined. He nods quietly, hand curling at your waist before he leads you the way towards the ceremony, eager to be gone, but not before he steals a look at the older man by the bar, tongue in his cheek. A hint of playful defiance glimmers in Taehyung’s eyes and Jungkook wouldn’t know for the love of God what it means.

The following hour ends up not being as dreadful as the previous ones. Jungkook still guides you throughout the night with prolonged small talk and half-filled champagne glasses which you’ve grown tired of drinking. Nobody is paying attention to the wife of, much to your luck, because it gives you the opportunity to slip into your own world with Jungkook’s hand still snaked around your waist. Taehyung’s words ghost your head instead, and as much as you try not to, you sneak a glance his way every now and then.

You can’t help it. It’s been some time since someone recognized you as anybody else than Mrs. Jeon Jungkook. The lucky one who gets to wear designer dresses and expensive jewelry with a zipped mouth on her face. The brief minutes spent with Taehyung were cut short, but reminded you of your own persona. So hidden behind the shadows of Jungkook’s success that you almost forgot you once had built the start up of a successful career as well.

You can’t think in this room. The warm air is rising to your head and all you can hear is the low murmurs of Jungkook and his colleagues at your table. You start to wonder things. Big things. Like, what if Taehyung wasn’t the only person who believed in continuing the neglected modeling career you were so desperate to let go of some time ago? What if he wasn’t the only one and you’re just meant to find the right people to support you? What if that dream was worth pursuing, now still, after all this time accepting this is what your life was going to be like; a bitter housewife in the suburbs forever holding on to a forgotten career.

“Everything okay?” Jungkook queries on your side, eyes lingering on you for too long and you don’t care to return it. His hand travels to your upper thigh beneath the table cloth but you barely process it, head too clouded with whatever you’re worrying about to take notice. “You seem distracted.” He says, his large hand resting there without much thought, warming the skin up as he gently starts rubbing in circles.

“Yes,” you say though there is a pause to it, one where you hold your breath as you wonder if you should say more. You know he doesn’t like it when things start getting personal when all these people surround you, but you’re so close to the edge. You turn to him, knees touching. “I just need some fresh air. Hand me the car keys?”

He stares at you for a moment, a look shared that tells you he’s trying to read you even when you’re shutting him out. An arm lazily rests atop the backrest of your chair as he sighs through his nose. “They’re starting soon.” He breathes out like he hasn’t said it a thousand times already. “And you’ve been drinking. I’m not handing you anything.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m not drunk and I’m not driving. I’m just gonna sit in the car and take a moment for myself.” it’s your turn to sigh, a bite to your words that Jungkook easily catches on to. His eyes narrow, lips growing into a thin line. “What is it, are you not allowing me?”

His chest grows tight when he hears your words, the sassy attitude not gone by dismissed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Can’t you take half an hour longer?” His voice lowers in case anyone overhears, the back of his fingers reaching to stroke over your cheek softly. “Batting those pretty lashes the way you do it so well?”

His comment flies to your head, hitting you like a slap to the face and you search his eyes for some sort of sincerity. Some sort of remorse for spitting that degrading shit in your face like that. You notice the way people perceive you as the wife of Jeon, how they look at you because you’re just one of his pretty things. You’re aware. And you don’t need anyone to tell you, because you could care less about them. Though when the confirmation slips from Jungkook’s lips, you swear he turns the switch inside you.

“You’re an ass.” The feet of your chair screech loudly against the floor tiles of the lobby, the sound of it making heads turn your way with curious gazes. And unlike your husband, who seems troubled upon the sudden attention, you couldn’t care less, storming out of the quiet lobby like your Jimmy Choo heels are meant for you to stomp off the way you do.

You hear a faint call of your name even though it doesn’t take long before you reach the main entrance doors and fumble your way out. The anger rises to your head and you consider you might have done Jungkook a favor with the way you made it out so quickly.

It takes a couple minutes before the swinging doors you just erupted from come to a loud shut once more, revealing a heated Jungkook sauntering down the stairs. “Get moving. You were the one who wanted to go home,” He doesn’t spare you another glance when he passes you by with a pinched expression. Both your jackets hang from his arm but he doesn’t care to hand you yours, quick to rush to his Benz with you right behind him.

The only sound that fills the air is the angry stomping of your feet, Jungkook’s not as prominent as your own heels clack loudly against the pavement. “I just needed a minute out. I never said you couldn’t finish your little act in there,” you retort, frustration lacing your voice.

He opts to ignore your remark at first, jaw set and focus straight ahead. Though the more he repeats your words in the back of his head, the faster his own spill out. “I asked you not to throw a scene and you go ahead and do it anyway,” he sneers, unlocking the back door before he throws your coats on the backseats. Slamming it just as loud. “For what, ___? Couldn’t stand not being the center of attention for one night so you pull this shit?”

Jungkook is fast to open the door to the driver’s seat but you beat him to it. Slamming his door back shut only to earn one of his lethal, disturbed looks. “You take that back.” You point an accusing finger his way, trapping yourself between his hovering body and the car. “For years, I’ve been tagging along to these stupid events like some luxury piece on the side. Supporting and loving you from behind your huge ego,” you huff, a pillow of air rushing from your lips and into the icy air. “All the while you choose to show me off whenever you feel like it when I’ve been happier for you than anyone in there—’’

“Have you?” His lips curl inwards, sharp eyebrows tightening. “Because the second you heard about some promotion, a couple more hours added to my contract, you start freaking out. Running out there like the world revolves around you. I hate to break it to you, but it doesn’t, ___. Get it out of your head.”

“Jungkook—“

“I don’t want to hear it.” He quickly waves you off, pointing an angry finger back to the building you just came out of. “You know I’m winning an award at this very moment? I’m reaching the tip of the iceberg tonight, and instead of celebrating it, I’m out here trying to keep you sane.” Jungkook grunts, hand falling back to his side. “I didn’t see Jung fucking Hoseok do that last year when he won that damn award. His partner stood beside him, supporting him while he accepted the prize.”

You maintain eye contact, no matter how much fire swims in his gaze. “I know you didn’t just compare me to your coworker’s wife.” You scoff loudly, “Jung Hoseok probably has the decency to include his partner in every major decision he makes. Including promotions that will require your everything, Jungkook. If that was our case,” your finger swats back and forth between your raging bodies, “then yes, I would love to be that kind of wife for us. But I’ve done that for a long time. I can no longer be like her.”

Jungkook groans, stepping closer and causing you to press your back flat against his Benz. “Maybe Jung Hoseok works his ass off to earn such a prize in the first place, knowing his wife is there. On his side. No matter the case.”

“Well, maybe that is because Jung Hoseok and his wife never stopped loving each other!”

Little puffs of air escape your lips and the statement leaves you a little breathless when realization strikes through. They mold together with Jungkook’s, who also seems to need a moment to register whatever it was you just spat in his face. His aura changes not much longer after, eyes digging into yours with the tip of his tongue running over the back of his teeth. Jaw set tight with a dare running in his gaze. He looks down at you with heavy lids, and when you stay quiet for longer than he was hoping, he speaks up. Though the voice is low enough to pass as a warning.

“You want to repeat that for me?”

You sigh, closing your eyes as you try to place a somewhat reassuring hand to his burning chest, it’s hot and under fire beneath your palm. You didn’t mean to slap him across the face like that. “Jungkook, I didn’t mean you and I—’’

“I don’t care what the fuck you meant.” He says slowly, swatting your hand off him with an intense gaze. “Repeat that for me.”

You shake your head, keeping it up high even with the way he’s looking down on you. You can stand your own ground as well as him. “Kook, I’m not going to repeat myself when I didn’t mean to say that.” You argue, arms folding.

Jungkook locks eyes for much longer than is necessary, like he doesn’t believe you and he’s trying to find some sort of truth in them instead. Hands now situated in the pockets of his dress pants, he leans his weight down on one leg. “Then get in the car.” He then simply says, tone a bit too composed to ease you down. “We’re going home.”

“No,” you argue back with a stern voice. You’re both upset, incredibly so. The last thing you need to do right now is push your anger to the sidelines. “We’re not done talking, Jungkook.”

“We’re done.” He’s quick to tell you, taking a step back before and impatient, sharp eyebrow arches. The weight of his body on one leg. “I said, get in the car, ___. You wanted to go home? Let’s go fucking home.”

The bite in his voice is evident to send the warning through. He is just standing there, hands casually hidden in his pockets as he glares down at you, patiently waiting for you to get moving. You shoot him a look, something that says something along the lines of, seriously, this is how we’re gonna do this? He nods once. Nothing more, nothing less. That’s all you’ll get.

Fine. Two of you can be just as petty.

Jungkook is quick to get in the driver’s seat when you huff and round the car, the silence quick enough to break through the tight space once the doors slam shut. For a brief moment, the two of you just sit there, gazing at the packed parking lot without another word exchanged. You know Jungkook needs a moment to collect himself before he gets off driving you both home, but he is not the only one in desperate need to let go of some steam. The tight gripped hand around the wheel, where his knuckles turn a pale white is telling you enough about his current state. He hasn’t even stuck the key in the ignition yet and that might be for the better.

He finally looks at you without a word and you don’t back down from the challenge. He still fumes with fire when your gazes meet, lips tightly pressed together. The man watches you like a hawk, right hand still planted at the steering wheel as he stares back down at you from over his shoulder—seemingly no intention to drive off anytime soon. You seem to glow with a heated bitterness and he finds himself feeling a similar way. It does little to intimidate you, though.

Rage consumes you and the silence only seems to worsen it. You’ll have to voice your thoughts or you might go feral. “I can’t believe you’re acting like a child.”

He scoffs, bits of amusement tugging at the edges of his lips. “Don’t get me started, princess.”

Jeon Jungkook is an unbelievable man.

Your eyes narrow, challenging him. “Go get started, Kook,” a dare drips off your mocking voice, low and anticipating when you raise a single brow. ‘‘I don’t mind.’’

And just like that, something in the air shifts. Maybe it’s the way his eyes drag down your glossy lips without an ounce of shame, or the noticeable fact that his pants are starting to tighten around his crotch area. Your eyes fall down there. You can’t helpt, and neither do you mean to hide it.

“You don’t want me to, baby. Trust me.” He asserts, tone firm and unwavering.

“Try me.”

Time seems to go still and Jungkook seems like he’s hesitant, eyes flickering down your lips one or two times too many. There’s not much sentiment found on his features. No pretty little smile at the lips, and no softened gaze roundening his eyes. Instead, his jawline is locked so tight, you’re able to catch each huff and puff that leaves him. The silent battle of wills unfolds between you. There is a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, as if debating whether to succumb to your request or stand his ground.

However, Jungkook is a raging mess, all he needs right now is an outlet.

“Damn it,” He curses before he slams his lips onto yours. A surprised, muffled gasp falls from your mouth into his when your noses angrily collide, finding the right amount of balance when a tattooed hand reaches the back of your neck to keep you in place. His lips feel velvety against yours, soft and inviting despite the intensity of his movements. Even though his moves are much rougher. Much more raw.

You respond to the passionate kiss with the same intensity, kissing him back just as hard with your hand steady at his jaw. His own hand hides at your nape, both of you hovering over the storage box in between your seats like two horny teenagers hiding in his big brother’s car. Moans escape his lips and resonate against yours. Youthful desire builds the intensity, sending sweet tingles straight to your core.

‘‘Fuck, come here,’’ Jungkook utters, exhaling heavily as he settles back into his seat.

Not one to resist, you swiftly maneuver your way into the driver’s seat, straddling him with both legs on his either side. His hands instinctively find place at your lips as you lean in to capture his lips in a heated, messy kiss where you hold onto his jaw and push the back of his head to his seat. However, tonight is not like any other night. Tonight, he can’t let you take control.

Jungkook’s kisses become fervent as he pushes you against the steering wheel with a bit more force than intended, causing it to dig into your back with a sharp yelp eliciting into the air. The soft gasp you breathe out as you try to catch on easily gets ignored by him. Still adjusting to the rapid pace, his hands tenderly explore your backside, rubbing in sweet circles before moving down to roam over your ass.

His slender fingers carefully tug at the hem of your dress before he rushes to ride it up your thighs, just until your bare ass hovers above the growing bulge that’s hidden away in the dress pants that now seem too tight around his thighs for his own good. It is no longer something you could ignore even if you wanted to. Not with the way his cock throbs against your panties; the thin material of his slacks not helping much to create a decent barrier.

Nonetheless, you don’t seem to care when you shamelessly start to grind down on his clothed erection. He groans on your skin when you throw your head back, fingers playing while they tangle through his slick locks as if to guide his mouth. “Sit still,” he angrily mumbles, though he doesn’t try to still your hips from humping onto him.

“Don’t wanna,” you stubbornly mutter in response, tugging tighter at his hair in the hopes of a response. You have to hold the evil smirk that's threatening at your lips when you shift back and forth in his lap with a much quicker, more dangerous pace. “Make me?”

His mouth stills at your neck and a rush of satisfaction wavers over you. Jungkook’s hot breath fans over the same spot his lips were just pressed against, slow to look back up at you. Only to find you grinning in his lap like a fool. “You got such a big mouth on you tonight.” He murmurs so close to your lips like he’s planning on kissing you again. Heavy lidded eyes stare back at you in the dark when his middle finger hooks around the lace of your thong at your ass. “Such a big mouth but you don’t even know what you’re asking for. What a terrible trait, sweetheart.” He teasingly tugs at the thong, rubbing the material in between your sweet cheeks.

Your hands reach behind you, reaching for the zipper at the back of the dress before you start to unzip it. “I know what I’m getting myself into.” You sing, tweaking the straps off your shoulders with a teasing grin. What are you waiting for? Undress me, is what your eyes tell.

God. He can’t stand you.

His lips are on yours within a heartbeat. And neither of you plan to let go without a fight.

It’s like both of you are fighting for dominance over the other as the kiss grows more intense. Noses angrily bump into each other, teeth clash and bite into the already swollen flesh of your lips. You’re so engrossed in the lip biting and breath sharing that you barely realize Jungkook pulling down your dress with force, the latex now hunched around your waist to reveal your bare chest. It is only when his fingers reach out to pinch your hardened nipples when you break free from him, the sensitivity growing into excitement before it runs straight to your core.

“Hm, so sensitive baby.” Jungkook hums with a pleased grin threatening on his face, pinching a few more times at the sensitive buds. “I have a feeling you’re all bark and no bite tonight. How come?” He asks quietly. “Felt ignored because I didn’t look at your pretty tits all night? ‘Specially when they’re looking so nice and swollen for me right now, mhm?”

He dives down and wraps his pretty lips around the perky bud when you don’t respond on time, tonguing and nipping until he can hear you squirm on top of him. “I knew that was it.” He mumbles, letting go with a lewd pop. You almost don’t catch it with how low he is speaking, almost like you’re not even meant to hear him in the first place. His tattooed hand gently massages your other breast in the warmth of his palm. “Baby feels neglected the moment the focus isn’t on her. Ain’t that funny?” He chuckles humorlessly, something far away from genuine laughter and you don’t manage to crack a smile either. “Now she’s on top of my cock waiting to get fucked like she wasn’t acting like a total brat back there. Like brats deserve to get fucked nice and slow.”

You push Jungkook back against his seat by the chest, his head lazily lolling back without much surprise as he patiently waits for your next move with a darkened gaze. He knew he was going to press your buttons some time soon. Both your heart and head are fuming. “Not true.” You argue weakly before you decide it’s your turn to pepper angry kisses at the silky skin of his neck. Your grip tightens at his throat, right beneath his jaw. Only to keep him still, you convince yourself. “You’re an asshole. You know that, right?” You mumble against the hot skin, surprised he’s able to understand your muffled words.

Your hand isn’t that secure around his throat, but he decides to play along nonetheless, keeping his head locked to his seat. “So I’ve heard, sweetheart.”

You ignore the cheeky comment and instead allow your free hand to fumble with the leather belt wrapped so deliciously around his hips. You continue biting and licking in the crook of his neck, not caring if any purple marks find their way there. Jungkook swallows back a whimper of relief when your hasty hands unbuckle his gold coated Montblanc belt. His dress pants aren’t even supposed to be this tight fitted around his crotch area, even when he’s hard. Though it’s no secret Jungkook has been working on his thigh muscles throughout the years. And to say it has served him right would be an understatement.

“Take me out, sweetheart.” He breathes when you dip your hand inside, not yet granting him the pleasure of pulling out his cock just yet. Cupping him over his boxers instead, you suck his quiet moans up like second nature.

Jungkook’s hips eagerly buckle into your grasp and you contemplate on giving him the satisfaction this early on, because even you are growing impatient. Instead, you continue stroking his cock over his boxers, rubbing up and down his length with more pressure as you watch him exhale through his nose. Jungkook’s adams apple moves at his throat when he swallows tightly, eyes shutting in frustration.

You bring your lips to graze over his cheek, so sweet and romantically as the two of you are. Hot and sharp breaths fan on his skin. “Stop bossing me around, will you, Kook?”

He breathes lowly; still through his nose as his chest heaves up and down. Almost like he’s holding himself back from doing things you can’t handle. “Spoiled girls need someone to boss them around.” A sharp sting tingles at your ass, realizing he just spanked you there, the sudden cry you let out in the shell of his ear explaining why his large hands are now soothingly caressing the sensitive skin. “They turn into brats the minute someone doesn’t put them in place. Did you already forget the way you acted tonight, babe?”

He gently continues to knead your ass in his big hands. “You’re just as responsible as I am for that.” You whimper weakly, deciding you’ve had enough when you take Jungkook’s thick cock in hand and out of his pants and boxers. He’s warm, heavy and angry in your grip, red and swollen tip staring back at you when he’s fully out. You raise a brow at the sight. “But it seems like you don’t mind it right now.”

Jungkook isn’t sure what he despises more at the moment. The way the shit-eating grin on your face only seems to spread the longer victory consumes you, or the way his dick twitches when your hand tightens around his shaft. Jungkook holds back his grunts. Adding free coins to your egoism is the least bullet point on his to-do list.

“Careful,” he speaks with a warning, eyes flickering back down your lips before the tips of his fingers slide down your covered slit from the back. They rasp against the black lace a little before he adds more pressure where your hole is covered, content to feel your soaked cunt leaking through the fabric. Continuing to feel up to the damp spot, he speaks. “You’re not one to talk when you’re dripping like this. Take this off for me, sweetheart.” He hints at your panties even though he is the one dragging the lace down your legs already.

For as far as his cramped Mercedes allows you to reach down atop his muscled thighs, you make sure you’re at a safe distance before a chunk of spit runs off your lips and onto his throbbing cock. Jungkook groans loudly, hips rutting up when you start pumping him with a tight grasp. You maintain eye contact while you do so, addicted to the way his hazy gaze angrily stares back at you, free hand moving to knead his balls. Your thumb grazes over the head, silently massaging his slit where you spread the precum over the rest of his leaking cock.

“Fuck,” you curse, the wetness coating your fingers. “Want you in my mouth.”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Yeah.” You repeat.

Jungkook’s hands tighten at your waist, digging into your skin. “None of that.” He then mumbles, earning a confused frown from you. “Rub yourself against my cock, baby. Need to feel how wet this tight cunt is for me.”

“God.” You roll your eyes like you mean it, but your pussy starts to throb at the thought already. He knows it does. How could he not? Jeon Jungkook knows you from the inside out; knows what you like and what you don’t like. Six years of being with you has taught him that much. And because of that, Jungkook is not one to wait around for you to make your move and pushes his hands harder at your hips instead, guiding your bare cunt towards his cock.

“That’s it.” Jungkook lets out a low groan from the base of his throat, the pressure at your hips slacking down once you take over with a slower, more experimental pace. His head falls back and his thick neck comes into view instead, velvety skin on display when your cold fingers hide to intertwine at his nape again. Wet lips drag over his cock and spread wider the more pressure you add. “Look at you soaking my cock like you’re ready to ride it. As if girls like you deserve to be stretched out in the first place.”

“I deserve it.” You nearly stutter when you find the right amount of pressure, your clit now directly rubbing against his head.

He hums softly at your engrossed self. “Yeah?” He continues to ask. “You think you deserve to fuck yourself off on this cock?”

You can only nod in return when your pace increases and eyes shut tight. Jungkook takes sight of the teeth that dig into your lower lip and nails that scratch at the skin at the back of his neck. He moans a little at the sharp feel, his own chest heaving up and down when the blood rushes to his cock. “Can’t hear you, baby.” He pushes when you continue to rock against him without another word, his tattooed hand spanking your ass cheek again to grab your attention. “Need words to decide if I’m letting you ride me.”

It’s not an easy job to pry your eyes open again when your cunt is so deliciously dragging against him, but you manage to do so with heavy lids. “Not to bruise your ego, babe,” you breathe out, thumb padding on his slit as if addressing an obvious issue at hand. “But you’re not really in a position to make demands either.”

He huffs out some air, the warmth of it fanning against your lips. You know you’ve got him trapped without a comeback to throw back in your face when he pierces a single brow. “You should really do something about that mouth.”

“Thought you said you were gonna take care of that.” You boldly recall, clearly challenging him. “Or are you backing out so soon?”

Jungkook doesn’t care enough to defend himself against your assumptions. Instead, he nods his head to the backseat. “Get back there.” He instructs with pressed brows. “You won’t be so smart when you’re coming on my tongue.”

A dramatic sigh leaves your lips like you’re tired. Hands cupping his cheeks sweetly, the back of his head easily lolls to his seat so he looks up at you with those darkened, dangerous eyes. You take him into a slow and wet kiss where your lips seem to dance together in unison, breathing heavily into each other until his tongue presses between your parted lips in an attempt to enter. But you pull away on time. Still, only inches away from his face, his eyes glued to your lips. “You don’t have to eat me out. I can take you right now.” You heave with swollen lips brushing his.

“You know I don’t mind,” Jungkook frowns a little at the odd statement, fingers absentmindedly running circles at your hips again.

“I know you don’t.” You’re quick to speak, hands moving to rub at his shoulders. “But Kook,” you whine with an obvious pout, removing his grip off your hips before you guide his fingers to your dripping cunt, voice sweeter than candy as you watch him observing quietly. “Feel me—I’m so wet for you. Can’t I have you right now?”

A sense of relief already rushes through you when Jungkook’s fingers carefully pad at your wet lips, spreading them apart with a clear string of fluid sticking to his fingertips. “You’re soaked,” he says like you don’t already know, and you can only nod in agreement, the glossed and pouty lips never leaving your face. His cock grows harder in his pants at the feel of your hand cupping his own, hips rolling into his palm. “I won’t hurt you because we’re being eager, though.”

“Aw, come on babe,” you whimper like a little child. “I’ll let you know if it hurts...”

You watch him hesitate for a bit, playing it off when his finger sinks into your warmth. Subtle and careful at first, focusing on the way your walls tighten around the thick digit. You’re sucking him up like he’s meant to be there, silent moans hanging in the base of your throat when he starts pumping inside of you, deliciously curling at your walls. “I see what this is about,” you say with an edge cut sharp, a moan already at the tip of your tongue when his pace increases. ‘‘You’re scared you’ll bust the moment you’re in deep.”

You’re obviously teasing him. Evident in the way your heavy eyes fall down on him with a slight curve at the corners of your lips. He scoffs anyways, your words getting to him whether you’re joking or not. “Please,” he laughs, a humorless chuckle thrown in your face. “We both know I got you creaming around my cock before I even get the chance to.”

You tug a little at his long, jet black locks that were slicked back so perfectly before. Watching as his head rocks back at the action. “Show me? Make me regret assuming.”

He visibly gulps, but not out of nervosity. No, Jeon Jungkook rarely gets nervous, especially not around the woman he spent a total of six years with. Instead, he wonders what to do with you and your crazy attitude. There is a quiet dare you’re exchanging and he catches on just as fast. Never being one to sit back down on a challenge. Especially not when it comes to you and your sneaky games. Though truth be told, Jungkook can be just as devious as you do it.

“Ride me, sweetheart.”

Jungkook’s green card causes your devious lips to form back into the familiar sweeping grin while your excitement flows straight to your cunt. You palm his cock in your hand, feeling as he gets harder in your hold at the sensation. Lining him up between your lips, Jungkook is found having a hard time keeping himself sane, watching you with thoughts drowning him as the head disappears in your tight pussy, already sucking him up like you’ve never taken him before. “Good girl. Go nice and slow for me.” He grunts quietly, fingers digging harder at your sides the lower you sink down and onto his cock. “So good to me whenever you want to, hm?”

Your head falls to rest in the crook of his neck and you feel him move with you, lips at your temples waiting in anticipation. Like he expects an answer. “I’m always good to you.”

“Whenever you want to,” he corrects with a sharp edge, hands roaming over your ass in soothing circles when he can feel your hot, short cut breaths in his neck, inhaling the fresh citrus smell of his fragrance just the way you’re used to. His own chest heaves up and down in hammered motions, cock deliciously brushing against your velvety walls when you take all of him. “Fuck, so tight. Would’ve been much easier if you let me eat you out, sweetheart.”

“I can take it.” You whimper against his skin, stilling to let both of you adjust. Slumping down, chest against chest for a mere minute before you suck a sharp breath in when he reaches in between your bodies, thumb continuing to rub small and fast circles at your clit. “J- Kook,” you voice just above a whisper, his fingers circling with more pressure at your clit. “Kook...”

“What is it, baby?” He asks, voice vibrating at the shell of your ear when his lips are so painfully close. “Are you already starting to regret it? I knew you were bluffing, but damn, can’t even play pretend so soon?”

He’s mocking you with that annoying tone of voice, and everything in you wants to prove him wrong. To spare yourself the embarrassment of being caught slacking. Slowly, you start to move with his thumb still driving you insane at your clit. It’s a small and minor movement at first, making sure he feels every little drag of your walls around his angry cock before he gets the chance to open that big mouth again. Well, to be frank, it is open; pretty and plush lips slightly parted to let the moans die down on his tongue.

You remove your head off his shoulder just so you can catch the look on his face when you heave yourself up, only until his tip is inside you and the rest of his cock is already covered with your juices. He shoots you a look that tests your limits, but you’re not intimidated enough to back down and mirror him when you sink onto his cock once more. The familiar stretch of his thick shaft making both of you moan out in delight, blending perfectly together in the narrow space of his Benz.

“Fuck, Kook.”

His shoulders slump a little, eyes shutting tight and the sight of it only makes you bounce faster on his cock. His slight curve hits the sweeter, more sensitive spot with each roll of your hips and your head nearly falls back at the delicious feel. Sharpened nails dig into his blouse at the shoulders but Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind the slightest, probably too lost in his own pleasure to even notice. His tattooed hand reaches out to tug at your nipple some more, sweet moans of delight filling the air almost instantly.  

Jungkook got his veiny arm secured around the small of your waist, keeping you close enough to him to the point your breasts are pressed against his chest. Bouncing on his cock the way you do it so gracefully, you let your head fall down his shoulder, where your breaths become heavier and more ragged. “So eager for someone you claim no longer to love,” he hisses, seizing the opportunity to sink his teeth into the sensitive skin at your neck, just beneath your jaw. “Isn’t that what you said, baby? That we no longer love each other?”

“I didn’t mean it,” you groan, uttering out the words as he bites down even harder, intensifying the searing sensation in the heat of your neck.

His fingers curl at your hips, guiding them up and down above him with a delicious stretch of his cock at your walls. “So what,” he drawls, jaw twitching when your pussy tightens around him. “You said it just to say it?”

One thing about Jungkook is that, even after all these years of being married to you, he never tells you what the deal is about. You said something you weren’t supposed to? Sure thing, but he needs you to figure out what you did wrong yourself. Being the business man at heart, he has taught himself since his early college days to be straight forward and precise. Straight to the point. A no-nonsense approach with an ability to cut through the fluff. It’s a dance you’ve become familiar with. Maybe all he wants to hear is an apology, some cue that indicates a hint of regret—he himself isn’t even so sure. Maybe he just wants to know if you meant it.

Between heavy gasps and angry moans, you manage to speak, voice strained with a mix of arousal and remorse. “I... I didn’t mean it in the way you think,” you pant, the words barely audible in between your entangled bodies. “I was angry... and lashed out.”

Jungkook shudders, gripping onto you in a way that makes your hips still with only the tip of his cock inside. Your pussy pulses around nothing, desperate for the release he’s been building up so effortlessly. “Yeah?” He huffs, hips lifting off his seat to buckle into you with harsher, deeper thrusts. You can barely breathe when his pace increases and the only sound that’s filling the car is skin slapping against skin. “You just had to have the last word, didn’t you? Baby couldn’t keep her pretty mouth shut so she spews shit like that out.”

“I wasn’t thinking,” you argue back, lifting your head to meet him for a messy kiss you can’t keep up with. Not with the way his thrusts bounce you up and down his dick uncontrollably. Lips angrily dancing together like it’s your last time, moans molding together like it’s your last taste. “I didn’t mean it like that, Kook.”

Those slender, tattooed fingers run back down until he spreads your ass cheeks apart, gaining more control over you as you let him guide you throughout the thrusts. “Neither did I,” he says and you’re not entirely sure what he means by that. Rhythm becoming more focused than before, you notice his thrust seeming to slow down a little, though his dick reaches deeper, sweeter spots inside you that has you yelping into the tight air. “This pretty pussy about to cream my cock?”

You whimper with despair, head thrown back as he fucks into you from below. The tip of his dick reaches all your sweet spots each time his hips meet your ass, eliciting your head to fall back and exposing your velvety neck before him. “Fuck, yes,” Jungkook is quick to place his lips at your throat, soothingly swiveling his tongue around in circled motions. “You fill me up so well.”

“Do I?” He knows he does. Can feel how each drag of his cock in between your sweet, hot walls drives you a little more crazy. “Are you gonna make me dirty and cum all over me when I fuck you like this? Baby can’t take it?”

‘‘I can take it. Jungkook, please,’’ a lewd moan leaves your lips when his hand curls around your throat, heated and tight until he can feel you swallow against his palm.

Your pleads don’t fall on deaf ears when Jungkook firmly plants both feet to the floor, one hand tightening around your hip and the other around your throat. Lifting your hips until your warm walls are only wrapped around the tip of his cock, he pauses, locking eyes with you and keeping it there as if telling you there’s nowhere else for you to look at. He doesn’t give you any other warning before he’s thrusting into you, hips meeting your ass cheeks with force until he’s satisfied and buried to the hilt. “Keep your eyes open babe, want you looking at me while I fuck you.” He doesn’t move, keeping his cock deep inside you until you manage to pry your eyes open and meet his dark gaze, lips formed into a big O.

You do as he says, unable to get another word out when his hips draw back back, cock deliciously returning with another single, harsh thrust that got your tits bouncing up and down. It takes everything in you not to break eye contact, not to pinch your eyes to a tight close with the way he fills you so well. “Oh my God,” you choke out, barely audible as your hand wraps around his wrist by your neck, nails scratching against his sweet skin.

Jungkook sucks your whimpers up, watching your eyes grow heavier before he pounds into you again. Pace fastening with each thrust that becomes a little more precise and aimed to reach your sweet spot. Your moans grow uncontrolled and his name rolls off your lips with each thrust, the sound of your shaky breaths melting together with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the slight curve of his cock so deep in between your walls, you have a hard time keeping it together.

“I said, eyes open. Keep them on me.” Jungkook rasps out in between his own heavy breaths when your eyes shut close again. “That’s it, my pretty girl.” Lewd whimpers fill the air and he’s loving every sound that comes from you, ego swelling at each whine and each sob you throw his way. 

‘‘Fuck, Jungkook.’’ Your moans fill up the tiny space with each drag of his cock hitting your sweet spots, you don’t know how much longer you can take it when he pounds into you so deliciously.

‘‘Shit, cum for me, baby. Cream my cock.’’ He groans out loud, reconnecting your lips in a breathless kiss as he doesn’t need to tell you twice. The wave of your orgasm running through you, body tensing as your juices coat his thick cock.

He’s panting now, the feeling of your pussy clenching around him and as you coat him to the brim drives him insane. He pumps into you a couple times more before unloading inside. Your head falls back at the hot feeling of him filling you up, buried into you as he groans into the suffocating air.

It’s a funny thing, the way you and Jungkook operate.

Contrary to what many might assume, even after being together with the man for almost 7 years, you still have no idea what the fuck you’re doing. Finding yourselves grappling with a sense of uncertainty, far from a picture perfect commitment the way you’d think of marriage those years ago. It isn’t a pretty sight, but you figure either of you have gotten used to the same song, the same  rhythm that there is to your relationship, a dance of trial and error, where you stumble your way through challenges together, yet apart.

It defies logic when you put it that way. It isn’t a secret that you and Jungkook haven’t been able to make each other happy for quite some time, to put it plain and simple. Initially, the two of you were capable of hiding your worries beneath a thick blanket of luxury items and long office hours, and it’s not like much of that has changed, but the clock is ticking until Jungkook is leaving for his two-month business trip and you haven’t exchanged a word since the event two days ago. Since the heated sex in the driver’s seat of Jungkook’s Mercedez. Usually you’d just shrug it off, swearing no ignorant man of a husband is worth the wrinkles at your forehead.

So you’re not sure why you can’t seem to lift the weight of your shoulders off.

It feels wrong, that is. Wrong for Jungkook to leave you to fetch for yourself for two months without some sort of reconciliation. He tries to maintain some resemblance to your usual routine, you can tell. He continues to hold you during your sleep, an arm draped around your waist as you can hear the peaceful rhythm of his breaths. Though he isn’t close enough for you to feel his burning, bare chest against your back. He still brings back home dinner from your favorite Malay takeaway downtown, but doesn’t linger at the dinner table to make sure you eat everything to the last rice grain. He still surprises you with beaming jewelry you added to your wishlist months ago, but doesn’t stay to look how it adorns you.

Jungkook’s absence drains you.

It’s true. Not a fact you would ever admit out loud, but when push comes to shove, you might want him by your side every here and now. Yet at the end of the day, you’re a stubborn woman. Always have been and Jungkook knew it from the start. If he wanted to fix things between you before he leaves for his trip, then he would’ve done it by now.

‘‘Aren’t you supposed to be at work?’’ Your voice beams through the living room, Jungkook’s presence surprising you as you enter. Seated at the sofa, his back faces you as he’s dressed in his formal attire, elbows digging into his thighs as he’s typing away on his phone.

You linger at the arm of the sofa, gaze fixed at his side. There is a moment of silence that settles between you, filled by the quiet taps of his thumb against the screen. ‘‘My meeting got canceled,’’ he answers, voice tinged with a bit of weariness. ‘‘I only got a few hours before I have to get back.’’

The tension in your shoulders ease slightly, but your guard remains there. ‘‘Oh,’’ you respond dryly, that being all you can give him right now, turning on your heel to grab your shoes and coat and move your way out of the house.

Slipping your shoes on with your coat hanging in the crook of your arm, the car keys rumble loudly in your grip. Jungkook’s voice cuts through the air, making you halt in your steps. ‘‘I was thinking we’d see Seulgi in the meantime,’’ He calls over his shoulder, barely turning around to see you eye to eye. ‘‘I just called and she says she got a gap free for us.’’

Your brows furrow and his words hang in the air for a moment, his eyes glue back to his screen, mindlessly scrolling through it and you wonder what is going on through his head. You saunter back to the sofa, weight leaning on one leg when you stand before him again. ‘‘Right now?’’ You ask, head tilting. ‘‘I’ve got things to do, Jungkook.’’

Jungkook sighs, setting his phone aside and clasping his hands together between his thighs. He musters a smile, though it seems more ironic than genuine. ‘‘Well, it’s kind of urgent, ___,’’ He smiles with closed lips though it seems ironic. ‘‘Considering the fact that I’ll be leaving in less than a week.’’

You stand there, feeling your feet glued to the floor. ‘‘That’s not on me,’’ you manage to utter, an accusation thrown in there. It’s almost like he’s shifting the blame on you. Like you were the one to tell him to get on that boat and leave for two months. ‘‘You were the one who wanted to go on that trip, Jungkook, not me. If you wanted to see Seulgi you should’ve planned it sooner because I already made plans for today.” You call, “I can’t just reschedule them.’’

You hold his gaze, your eyes conveying a mix of frustration and disappointment. The silence that follows is heavy, charged with unspoken tension. You realize that the disconnect between you and Jungkook runs deeper than this singular moment. It's a culmination of unaddressed issues and unmet expectations that have taken a toll on your relationship. ‘‘Can’t you see that I’m trying? I just want to make things right before I leave,’’ Jungkook sighs softly, ‘‘she already said she doesn’t do virtual sessions. You know this could be the last time in a long time for us to visit?’’

Your patience wears thin when your eyes meet. He looks at you like you get to cut through the ropes, which in fact, right now you do. But again, you're not the one to distance yourself for months on end. You can’t help but blame him. ‘‘That still isn’t on me.’’

You’re fast to turn on your heel, ready to leave him in that big house. But you don’t get far when a gentle grip takes your hand in his own. He takes you by surprise, turning to look at him when his eyes find yours. His grip tightens slightly, as if to hold on to you, to keep you from slipping away. There’s a silent plea in his gaze, a plea for understanding and trying to make things right.

‘‘Why are you pushing me away?’’ His voice is quiet as he tugs at your hand, urging you to stand before him again.

‘‘I’m not,” you respond, your voice laced with a touch of defensiveness, giving up the fight to his gentle grip, where he guides you to stand between his legs.

“I’m trying to make amends,” he adds, his tone a little gentler than before. “I’m trying, but you won’t even tell me where you're going.’’

His words leave you a little hesitant, torn between the desire to hold onto your grievances and the flicker of hope that perhaps there is a chance for reconciliation. “I don’t see how it’s important where I’m off to,” you finally say, looking down at those big eyes that stare back at you. “I already made plans and that’s all there is to it.”

His grip on your hands tightens slightly, his thumb gently caressing the back of it as he searches for the right words. “It matters to me because I want to be there for us,” he says, his voice earnest. There is a vulnerability in his eyes, a genuine sincerity that tugs at your heart a little. “I leave in less than a week and I take full responsibility for that decision, but at least give me the chance to make things right before I leave.”

With a soft sigh, you release your hand from his grip and reach up to cup his face, your thumb gently brushing up his cheeks as an amused, humorless smile paints your lips. “A single, last minute session with Seulgi isn’t going to ‘make things right’, Jungkook.” You mock him, softly pinching his cheek like he’s a child. You turn your back on him, gathering your things with your shoulder bag secured beneath your arm. “If anything, it’ll just make things worse the way we do it.”

Jungkook hears the chuckle that escapes your lips but can’t bring himself to crack a smile, unable to catch the joke at hand. Sharp eyes never leave your frame as you shuffle around the living room, collecting everything you need before getting out of the house. “Fine,” his voice booms through the room as he stands up with a huff, hands at his hips. “We’ll just sit here and talk if that’s the way you want to do it.”

“And then? You think that’ll do the trick?” You retort, bitter laughter escaping your lips. You can count the amount of times you and Jungkook could’ve just sat down just to talk and fix your issues on one hand. You’ve always been here, at the house, waiting for him to finish his shifts to do exactly that. Now his meeting got canceled and suddenly he got time for you?

Jungkook’s eyebrows knit together, his own frustration rising to the surface. “I never said it would magically fix everything,” he shoots back, his tone matching your intensity. “But at least it shows that I’m trying, that I want to make things right before I leave.”

You scoff. “Trying? Is that what you call it?” Sarcasm drips off your voice when you finally turn to face him, seemingly ready to get your ass moving right then and there. “Fine. Let’s try when I get back home tonight.”

The haste kiss you place at his cheek nearly comes across as an insult, your lips barely lingering for a moment before you pull away. And just like that, you’re ready to fly out of the door, fueled by frustration and the desire to escape the argument that has consumed the room. Jungkook thinks you’re being childish, perhaps a little selfish when he watches the way you almost seem to float your way off. He understands that a two month business trip will only deepen the rift between you, but living like you’re strangers during your last days together, leaving with a packed suitcase on empty words—he doesn’t want to know what would happen in that case.

“What in the world could be a priority over an attempt to fix your relationship right now?” Jungkook’s voice rings just as your hand grips onto the doorknob, the frustration evident as his voice raises to catch your attention.

You pause on your tracks, still holding onto the doorknob with all you got. The impact of his question makes you halt, awfully familiar like you’ve heard it somewhere before. “Funny thing you ask that, considering I’ve asked myself that same question every time you head off to wherever you are needed at the time.” You retort, bitterness lacing on to every word. You hum like you’re thinking, “I never got an answer to that, by the way.”

Jungkook’s shoulders slump, his eyes searching for your understanding. “That’s because I’ve got a job. To provide for us, ___. You know that much so don’t go around acting dense, please.”

You narrow your eyes at him, the anger bubbling up inside you. “Oh, so now I’m acting dense? That’s how you see it?” The bitterness in your tone is impossible to conceal. “You can’t just use your job as an excuse every time it becomes convenient. Be fair, Jungkook, we wouldn’t even have this conversation if it wasn’t for your canceled meeting, so why make such a big deal out of this?”

His expression shifts, defensiveness crossing his face. “I do what I have to do for us,” he replies, voice tinged with frustration. “You’re right. I’m not always able to combine business and private matters the way I wish I’d be able to. But I try, and I work hard so we can live a comfortable life. Is that not important to you?”

Bitter laughter escapes you and echoes through the hall, watching as he reaches closer. “Of course it is, but I am not a second job to you. I refuse to be,” you’re quick to argue back. “We can have a talk, but it’s not going to be an easy one and we both know it. So if we’re talking, then it’s not going to be when you conveniently got a meeting that got canceled. You’re going to have to prioritize us and our issues if you really want it to work, Jungkook.”

“I’m ready to sit down and do exactly that, right now,” there is a fire that swims through his gaze as he says it, one that dares to tell you you’re in the wrong. The hesitation runs through yours, it’s all he can see the longer you lock eyes. “I’ll clear my schedule for the rest of the day if that’s what it takes, ___.”

Kim Taehyung crosses your mind.

You can’t help it; his image flashes through your head without an ounce of control. Because right in this fleeting moment, the guilt chimes at your chest as Jungkook looks at you with expectant eyes.

Truth be told, the unfamiliar man had been on your mind ever since you talked to him at the event. It had much less to do with his good looks, his charming persona and much more to do with the topics you shared, the things he had to offer. Things you thought you had let go of a long time ago with a heavy heart and a hard pillow to swallow.

Modeling was no longer part of the game for you. It’s one thing you accepted a long time ago. The first night after the event took place, you managed to ignore that gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach, thinking that feeling would be gone in the morning, where all you had to worry about again was you and Jungkook, only to wake up and his offer being the first thing you could think of. You couldn’t get your mind off it even if you truly wanted to. Unable to help yourself, you couldn’t think of your meeting with Taehyung as much of a coincidence. Not when he was linked to your world of fame, to all the people you had let go of; the colleagues, the creative editors, the artists that you were once part of.

His card burnt the inner pockets of your handbag that night.

“Where are you heading off to that makes you want to say no?” Jungkook’s question pierces through your thoughts, jolting you back to the present as his voice brims with curiosity, his eyes searching for answers. Yet, you hesitate to respond, uncertain if revealing the truth would only complicate matters further.

“It’s nothing important, just personal matters.” You reply vaguely, avoiding his gaze.

The room descends into an uneasy silence, the tension thickening in the air. Jungkook senses your hesitation, his face contorted with frustration. “___, please,” he implores, voice tinged with hints of despair. “Personal matters? I’m your husband.”

Jungkook’s words strike a chord within you, the weight of his statement hanging heavily in the air. It’s not that you don’t want to tell Jungkook about Taehyung, about the session he promised you. It’s just that this is also something new to you. You don’t know what you want yet, you don’t know where this newfound opportunity with Taehyung might lead to. Discussing this with Jungkook only makes everything so much more official and binding.

“I met someone at the event—the photographer,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper. “Do you remember him? His name is Taehyung,”

“Taehyung,” he repeats quietly, the question mark still visible at his forehead. His lips purse, searching your eyes for more clarity. “Yes, I remember him. What does this mean, ___?”

You can hear the impatience getting to him, the tension mounting between you both. “It means… we got to talking while you were networking with your coworkers,” you say, the statement leaving your lips a little saltier than you intended to. “So, the topic of modeling kind of came up in the conversation. Did you know he works with Minnie?”

“Minnie Chang? As in, your modeling agent?” His brows furrow, voice quiet enough for you to know this isn’t good news to him.

“Yes, her.” You nod along, unable to help the excitement growing at your chest. “Turns out Taehyung has been working with her on projects for some time. Crazy, isn’t it? I mean, he still thinks I have some potential in the industry after all those years of neglecting it. He even gave me his card that night, says there’s no strings attached to it.”

“And now you’re off to a shoot with the guy himself,” he huffs as his arms fall limp to his sides, hands at his hips as he searches your eyes for something you can’t place. “I don’t get it, ___. I thought we agreed you were done modeling? You want to dive back into that world even though we got our own shit to sort out?”

“I know what we agreed on,” you argue back, taking a sharp breath. “It’s nothing big, Taehyung said so himself. It’s a one-time shoot and if I decide to do something with it, then I will.” His eyes tell you all you need to know, they’re sharp and dig into your skull. You drop your keys into your back with a sigh of disbelief. You can’t believe he’s doubting you right now. “But I know I won’t. It’s a one-time thing. It’s not like I’m looking for a fulltime job, Jungkook.”

Jungkook’s frustration is palpable as he clenches his jaw, his voice tinged with bits of disappointment. “One-time thing or not, it’s about the principle, ___.’’ He says, more sternly than you’re used to when it comes to him. ‘’Seems like you’re ready to push our problems to the side this once. So why not twice? Or three or four times every time they'll call you in for another shoot?’’

You scoff, brow arching upon his daring words. Turning on your heel, you dart out of the door, beams of sun hit your face instantly. ‘‘You’re one to speak.’’ A humorless chuckle leaves your throat, the sour smile on your face still there even though it feels like it’s crumbling. ‘‘You’d finally know how that feels, then. When the person who is supposed to be there every step on the way just neglects you with a snap of the finger,’’ you angrily mumble, his own feet rushing after yours towards the car. You spin around once you reach it, feeling he’s hot on your tail. ‘‘It doesn’t feel good, I know, baby,’’ you say, voice laced with exasperation, ‘‘but you’re off on that trip in just a few days. Either of us are gonna have to get used to that feeling, whether we like it or not.’’

Jungkook’s footsteps slow down as he reaches to stand before you, towering over your smaller frame. ‘‘You can’t be serious,’’ he blurts, gesturing a hand towards his chest. ‘’Can’t you see that I’m making an effort? It’s not easy for me either, ___. I don’t want us to be apart any more than you do. So why push me away for some random shoot that just fell into your hands?’’

‘‘Because this,’’ a pointy finger swivels between your chests, emphasizing the growing divide. ‘‘This isn’t working.’’ The weight of your words press down on you, a heaviness settling in your chest. ‘‘It isn’t, and we’re still holding onto the last thread like it is. You and I need to come up with a new strategy or so help me God, we won’t last. Taehyung gave me an opportunity that night and I’m trying not to be miserable in this house, Kook. That’s all there is to it, I need distraction too.’’

You can tell he’s holding back. Can tell by the way he sucks in his tongue, jaw sharpening because of it as his lips turn into a tight line. ‘‘So this is it, then?’’ He asks, crossing his arms with a puffed chest. ‘‘Let’s stop trying and just hope for the best because you need a little something to distract yourself with. Correct?’’

“Don’t twist my words.” You snap, meeting his fierce gaze as the intensity of the moment grounds you both. “Fuck it. I’m not gonna stand here and listen to you accusing me of shit I didn’t even say,” you delve in your handbag, swearing you left your car keys somewhere in there.

You’re obviously hitting his last nerve. It’s clear, evident in the way he holds his index finger to his nose like he’s thinking. Frowned, sharp brows and a tight line of his lips as he weighs his weight to one leg. “We’re never gonna solve any of our shit if we keep running from it.” He says through gritted teeth, holding himself back from raising his voice at the driveway. “Do you want to make your point clear, is that it? Because I fucking got it. I’m a shit husband who puts zero time and effort into his relationship. I fucking got it. But I’m trying to get somewhere now,” he watches as you dig deeper into your bag, unable to focus on the task at hand with him fuming before you. “And now that I am, you’re feeding yourself into delusions because you want to be petty and are determined to make me feel the same way? Is that really what you’d rather do today, ___?”

“Please,” you repeat with a loud scoff, gaze burning into his. “Believe it or not, baby, but my world doesn’t revolve around you,” you pinch his cheek in a mocking manner, not shocked when he’s quick to tear your touch off him. “Or at least, I’m trying not to make you my first priority, considering you’ve stopped doing that a while ago. If it taught me one thing over the years, it must be that it made me fucking miserable. Blame me all you want for not wanting to feel that way. I don’t give a fuck.”

“Baby,” he sings sweetly, a hand at your cheek as he makes sure your eyes stay locked together. He captures the fire blazing in your eyes, burning into his skull. “We can drop the big-girl act right now and head inside. I mean it,” he says, pushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “Right now it’s your word against mine. I’ll pour us something to drink and we’ll sit down. Just you and me, that's all we need.”

You jerk away from his touch, the intensity of the moment still pulsing between you. Drop the act? You’re seething. Jeon Jungkook always finds a way to make the steam blow out of your ears. “I don’t need anything from you.” You snap without missing a beat, thankful for the way you’re magically able to find your car keys in one of the side pockets of your bag.

For a moment, silence hangs in the air, heavy with unresolved tension. You watch as his lips part, looking for words to argue with, but nothing comes out. It feels like a confirmation when it happens. You need to be anywhere but with him right now, and so does he.

Kim Taehyung is nothing like Jungkook.

It’s an obvious matter of fact which you can’t help but examine into detail. Taehyung’s fragrance fans you off in a refined way, a gentle and classy blend of notes that seems to match that charismatic, boxy smile he keeps sending your way. And while Jungkook usually dresses in formal designer attire, woody essence hanging in the crooks of his neck, Taehyung dresses not only to impress, but also to express his artistic soul. Loose button up tucked in black trousers that sway at his legs with each step, it comes to showcase his vibrant and flowy persona. The color palette, combined with that perfect set of teeth represents his chic, suave ways of working. It comes to contrast Jungkook entirely.

Maybe you notice it because you’ve nearly spent a decade with the man. By his side day in and day out with a commitment beautifully decorating your ring finger, straight to a point where you could no longer see through each other’s flaws. And maybe that is where Taehyung comes in as a fresh breath of air. Even now that you’ve only seen the man twice in a lifetime, you only seem to focus on all the ways he seems to differ from Jungkook.

Do you feel guilty about the fact you’re watching Taehyung like a hawk, the lens on him a little too focused to point out all the things Jungkook isn’t? Not really. Right now, you don’t really feel anything. You drove over to Taehyung’s studio with half a heart racing against your ribcage, all the things you and Jungkook told each other in the back of your mind even as you arrived. Fifteen minutes late and dissolved hair that seemed like a hand has been through it a couple times.

Taehyung didn’t question it and you’re thankful he kept quiet. The last thing you need to have on your mind is Jungkook. Not his angry words, not even yours. And the charming photographer did a great job at keeping your mind off him the first hour of the session, it’s not his fault.

“You hate them.” Taehyung declares at your side, the camera in his hands falling down to his lap in a defeated manner. He’s seated at the corner of the table, one leg dangling off it right next to your high chair.

“It’s not that I hate them,” you murmur, your voice barely audible over the distant hum of the studio. Taehyung’s gaze lingers on you, his eyes holding onto a sense of curiosity. You feel the weight of his unwavering attention, and for a moment, Jungkook is all you can think of. “It’s more like I had forgotten how good this feels... all of this. Really, your shots are amazing. I guess I’m just kind of in shock.”

A tiny smile creeps up at the corners of his lips, eyes never leaving yours. “It’s only half the work with a model like you,” he snickers cutely, nudging at your side. “And I don’t want to make this an I-knew-it-better-moment, but... I kind of told you so from the start.”

You can’t help but return his smile. “I know, you’re a genius.”

“Your words, not mine.” Taehyung holds his hands up in defense, the smile that’s teasing at his lips enough to tell you he agrees. “So, what do you say? I’ve got a few empty portfolios in the back, we could print some of these photos out and make it yours.”

The wink he throws your way doesn’t go by unnoticed, his sneaky, encouraging grin filled with enthusiasm as he waits for you with a glimmer in his eyes. Your heart swells at the sight, lower belly piling with excitement at the idea of physically holding today’s shoot in your hands. Though the hesitation creeps at you, as if something stops you from letting that excitement flow out. “I don’t know, Taehyung…” You mumble, a toothy smile on your face even though it doesn’t reach your eyes. “I’m gonna have to take that map home with me, and I’m gonna stare at those pictures for hours. It’ll drive me insane.”

Taehyung quirks a brow. “That’s the point.”

“Yeah, I know,” you murmur quietly, and Taehyung is unable to pry his eyes off you, the grin from before now fading off and replaced with a concerned frown. “I know that’s the point. It’s just that... I don’t know. I’m going to want more.”

It takes a second before your words work through but the grin eventually works its way back onto his lips. Wide and closed-lipped with big effort, Taehyung fights hard to hold his toothy smile back, biting at his bottom lip to prevent it from happening. It’s cute how the little confession slips off your tongue and you’re so scared to see what the outcome could be. Taehyung shuffles at his seat at the corner of the table, shoulders relaxing. ‘‘I’ll give you more.’’ He says, and suddenly his cheeky demeanor is gone, looking at you like he’s closing down a deal.

You press your lips together but he can see the way you’re trying to hold your laughter back. ‘‘Taehyung, be serious.’’

‘‘I’m serious, ___.’’ He says, and it’s like he pronounces your name in slow motion. His pink lips pout a little as if he’s deep in thoughts, head tilting while your eyes lock. ‘‘I don’t see why not? You haven’t been on the job for years, the pictures obviously show that it comes to you like second nature… we’re a great team too, can’t deny that one.’’ He smiles charmingly, and it now results in you biting your bottom lips to prevent the cheeky smile from reappearing. ‘‘So, yes. I’d give you more if that’s what you wanted.’’

‘‘This is insane.’’ You nearly whisper, head shaking. ‘‘I mean, this is crazy, Taehyung. I’m not a model anymore. I can't just pick up where I left off, it’s been literal years and I probably just shouldn’t even think about it.’’

His shoulder leans into you, watching you ramble from beneath his black curls like he sees right through you. ‘‘Because of your marriage?” He asks, eyes shifting downward before he meets yours again and you’re uncertain where exactly they shifted towards, but it might be better if you don’t know.

You chuckle lightly, not expecting him to be so straightforward. ‘‘I mean, sure. Jungkook’s my husband, he has some say about any of this.’’

‘‘Sure he does. But here’s a problem,’’ he says, a pointy finger in the air before it drops back to his lap. ‘‘You’re scared he won’t understand the purpose of it. Scared that he won’t be supporting you in all the ways you’ll need him. Right? Considering your husband is… sort of a prick. More or less.’’

You send him a scolding glare, one that’s not too hard on him looking at how you sketched Jungkook out to be that way in Taehyung’s eyes. ‘‘Tae,’’ you say quietly, ‘‘I know I mentioned some things about Jungkook back at the event, but really, he isn’t a jerk. Not a prick, or any of that sort. That’s only okay for me to say.’’ You add the lighthearted joke to keep the good atmosphere in the room. After all, you don’t blame him for thinking of Jungkook as a bad guy.

‘‘I get it, I’m overstepping my boundaries here.’’ He holds his hands up in the air, admitting defeat with that charming smile on his face. ‘‘But I’m just saying, ___. Relationships are important–marriage is important. But here’s the thing about you,’’ he pauses, voice lowering. ‘‘You have talent, undeniably so. I’ve captured it all today. And I truly believe that sometimes, you have to pursue your passions regardless of the risks. Regardless of anyone else if this is what feels right to you.’’ Taehyung holds his hands to his chest like he’s speaking from the heart and it makes you nervous how he says all these things like it’s so easy. So effortless to see the man you spend the last six years with as a risk.

Truth is, yes: Kim Taehyung sees right through you. He is right all along and you wouldn’t know how Jungkook would respond to making this whole ordeal a regular thing. Hell, you don’t even know how you’re supposed to react to it. With how shaky your relationship has become as of lately, how each one of your problems have circulated back to Jungkook’s office job some way or another, it’s hard to tell if the opportunity Taehyung offers you would truly work in your favor.

You take a deep breath, contemplating Taehyung’s words and the weight of them. The room falls into a brief silence though it isn’t pressuring, not trying to suffocate you for once. It’s not that you doubt the talent or passion that lingers within you, but you wonder if it’s worth anything if it means it would only dig your relationship deeper in the ground, especially when you and Jungkook are already trying so hard to climb out of that hole.  

‘‘It’s not something you have to figure out right now.’’ Taehyung shrugs, a reassuring smile at his lips when he catches him losing you. ‘‘I just want you to know you can always give me a call. I’d be down for anything going forward, ___.’’

You can hear the hope in Taehyung’s voice and you wonder why he tries so hard to make you understand. You appreciate it, though you wonder. You just figure he’s a good guy with a good heart.

‘‘You know, you can print those photos out.’’ You say, back straightening as you catch how it throws the guy off guard a bit, his brows rising. ‘‘I had these crazy ideas for the cover of my portfolio, anyway. Might as well put them to good use and take it home with me.’’

You even surprise yourself as the words spill from your lips, though you have no intention to take them back. You suppose this is what you want. Otherwise you wouldn’t have said it. Taehyung’s eyes almost seem to lighten up. ‘‘I knew you were a smart one.’’

And that’s how you’re ushering Taehyung towards the printer in the corner of his minimal studio before he can make any more smart comments. He reassures you some more time, sensing your absence as silence falls over you once more, insecurities still nagging at you even when you convince yourself this small step could lead to something good. Something bigger. At one point, it’s just the sound of the printer rapidly inking the paper as the both of you stand there on the side in silence. It’s not an uncomfortable feeling. But you’d say it’s rather an unfamiliar one. Taehyung never does anything to make you feel like a fish out of the water, he makes sure of it and you’re grateful for that.

Joy swells at your chest, leading to butterflies filling up your lower belly. Not because of Taehyung; even as you see right through his charming looks or flirtatious brown eyes, but because he saw something in you that night of the event that made a spark of inspiration flow. Thinking back at how easy it’s been with him, how you haven’t even met the man a week ago and how you’re now here, in his studio working on things you once called passion for—it drives you crazy.

‘‘You know what? We should celebrate,” he calls and the sound of his voice throws you off guard. “With some wine, I mean. You like red?’’

And that’s how you and Taehyung end up popping a bottle of Riunite Lambrusco in the middle of his studio. The curly haired man says he always has some sort of beverage stored in the back in case of celebration, and you believe him. His character is like a breath of fresh air. He goes with the flow, you can tell, that being all you’ve been doing in the past days you introduced yourselves to one another. One hand dug deep in the pocket of his voguish trousers and the next thing you know, you’ve finished up a shoot and are setting up your portfolio together.

You like Taehyung.

You’ve come to the conclusion that you do.

Conversation flows well, even after only a couple sips of the wine he poured you. Conversation has been flowing well since the start of today’s shoot, but now that you get to sit down, look him in the eye and get to know him better, you can tell you’ve got that chemistry. The air in Taehyung’s studio feels lighter, almost ethereal, as you sit comfortably at the foldable, rusted party table and squeaky chairs he pulled from the back. Only after apologizing a handful of times, his nearly empty studio only holding onto lightning and his required equipment as you sit in the middle of it. It’s not his day to day workplace, he told you, though you keep telling him there’s something to it. The minimal yet intimate air lingers and it makes you feel good on the inside.

There’s an effortless ease to your interactions, you’re not sure what it is that he does, but he does it. Taehyung’s laughter resonates in the room, infectious and sincere whenever he talks. You find yourself opening up to him, discussing your ambitions, as well as your fears. There’s a certain comfort in his presence, as if he intuitively grasps the struggles you’ve been facing and offers you a safe space to let it out.  

‘‘This is one of my favorites,’’ Taehyung leans back in his chair, one leg over the other as he brings his glass back to his lips. Your portfolio is sprawled out over the entire surface of the tiny table, resulting in you to lean over with your own glass in one hand. You follow his gaze, falling on the picture of you that’s taken from an upper angle, open palms directed to the camera and glued to your cheeks. ‘‘This one makes it seem like you never quit modeling–it’s probably something in the eyes. They’re captivating.’’

You feel your cheeks heat up as you peer at the photograph. It’s true, the image captures a certain intensity in your eyes, a spark that evokes passion. It reminds you of the days where modeling was your world, where it was your only ambition and when you were fully immersed.

‘‘I mean it.’’ He says when he notices the curl of your lips, unknown what to do or say next. ‘‘You’ve got the kind of eyes that would draw anyone in, don’t you know?’’ He enjoys seeing you so flustered, enjoys seeing how you turn in somebody new, so different from the woman he first got to know at the event. He almost feels proud for bringing this side out of you.

You take a moment to collect your thoughts, Taehyung’s compliment leaving a cute flutter in your chest. You glance at the photo again, studying the intensity in your eyes like he described. ‘‘Thank you, Taehyung.’’ You reply sincerely, ‘‘I guess all of this is still kind of surreal to me. Didn’t think I’d find myself in a studio ever again, you know? It’s kind of a big deal to me.’’

‘‘I get that.’’ He says slowly, and you swear his voice drops a few octaves because of it. Leaning over the tiny table with folded arms, wine glass before you. Your eyes lock and neither of you care to say anything for another moment.

The afternoon carries on and shifts into an evening where the sun has already set before you can comprehend it. Taehyung’s squeaky party chair leaves an uncomfortable sting at your ass but you don’t mind, barely notice the feel when the nearly empty wine bottle sits there to stare at you both. A little liquid layer of red wine left over and waiting for you to finish as you hang onto Taehyung’s every word. Hang onto his tongue as he speaks of his experiences within the industry, speaks of everything you’ve been missing out on the past few years. You feel like that girl in highschool again, reading through Vogue magazines in between classes and cutting your favorite models out to stick it on to your moodboard when you were supposed to work on your homework.

Yes, you look up to Taehyung. It was inevitable from the beginning. You believe so, because Kim Taehyung’s the only connection you have right now who dives right back to that world. That world you’ve been dreaming of for so long and once made true. And not only that, but he was also the first person in a long time who saw you for anybody else than the wife of. Say you’re being dramatic, but it’s no more than the truth. Taehyung gave you an opportunity within the first ten minutes of truly knowing who you were. It says something about him. Something good that makes you feel like you can handle a lot more than you think.

You at 9.38 PM | Hi, I had a lil wine and I’m jus a little tipsy, but I probably shouldn’t be driving

You at 9.40 PM | do you think you can come over and pick me up?

Read at 9:40 PM.

You lay your phone flat on the table as you lean back into your seat with a loud huff. Copying you, his head tilts slightly. “I could just drive you home, you know that right? No need for him to drive all the way over here.”

“There’s that, but you’ve already done so much for me today.” You shake your head, a smile tugging at the edges of your lips. “Really, there’s nothing you could do right now that would make me any happier.”

It’s true. Kim Taehyung made you the happiest woman alive today. 

It doesn’t take very long before you hear the shut of a car door right outside, followed by impatient knocks at the front.

“The one and only.” Taehyung murmurs with a teasing smile your way, lazily getting up from his seat before he moves to the door.

The door flies wide open and revealed behind it is your husband, hands at both his hips as his dress shirt stretches across his chest at the movement. He leans his weight onto one leg, analyzing the man before him. “Right here, sir,” Taehyung comes to stand beside him, stepping outside and pointing to something that’s out of your view. “I’ve got a doorbell. For future references.”

You catch the playful smile that’s tugging onto the corners of Taehyung’s lips and so does Jungkook. “Thanks,” he mumbles quietly as he steps inside the small studio, fast to catch your eye from your seat at the table. “But I’m just here to pick up my wife.”

Jungkook’s steps sound heavy in the nearly empty space, leather designer shoes tapping against the flooring with a slight echo at each stride. He ends up in front of you by the table but doesn’t say anything, though you see his lips are pursed and cheeks are sucked in. Hands hiding in the pockets of his dress pants, you notice how his aura comes with a change of atmosphere. Let that be his body language, the strict look on his face, or maybe even the way you react to his presence—you know the change didn’t just come falling out of the sky.

You snap out of it when Taehyung closes the door behind him with a soft thud, followed by awkward silence. Your chair screeching against the floor comes next. “Taehyung,” you move around the table, coming to stand next to your husband and locking arms. “This is my husband, Jungkook.” The man on your side doesn’t care to return your touch. No arm at the small of your back, barely another look your way when he’d rather look anywhere else with pulled brows. “Jungkook, this is Taehyung. The photographer I told you about. He’s been doing such an amazing job at running today’s shoot.”

Being the bigger person in the room, Taehyung steps in to stretch out a hand, back curving slightly. “It’s good to meet you, I’ve only heard so much.”

Jungkook only provides him a nod of acknowledgment with each childish nerve that still runs through his body, ignoring eye contact like he’s still sixteen and his mama taught him no manners. You watch as Taehyung’s hand dissolves into a loose fist and falls to his side in defeat, you send him an apologetic smile to make up for it but he brushes it aside with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Alright, I guess we should leave.” You break through the ice, hand falling at your side as you roam around to search for your bag. You reach for the curly haired man once everything’s settled, and even though Jungkook didn’t care enough to return your touch before, you catch him tonguing his cheek when you reach out for Taehyung. “Thanks again. Really, I had a blast.”

“No more than I did.” He gives you his signature smile, the one that would leave many weak in the knees.

You bid your goodbyes, telling each other to get home safely as Jungkook watches from the side. You hug Taehyung tightly before you leave, an embrace where your arms are secured around his neck and his hands appropriately rest at your back.

It’s when you and Jungkook step out when you halt in the middle of the doorway, your portfolio that was secured beneath your arm now pushed into his chest. “Oh, Taehyung!” You turn around, hair sweeping against Jungkook with the sharp turn you take. Taehyung watches you with curious, slightly widened eyes. “Is it okay for me to give you a call later this week? I’d really love to repeat what we did today some time soon.”

His features relax, familiar grin returning. “You can always give me a call.” He smiles cutely. “Hit my line, I’ll have time for you, ___.”

Insecurity is not something Jungkook has had to worry about in the past, and certainly not now. Not when it came to you, not when you were entirely his, and he was entirely yours without any second thoughts. And he still trusts you completely, trust isn’t the issue. Insecurities aren’t the issue, either. And maybe, Kim fucking Taehyung isn’t what bothers him. Maybe it’s the way you seem to admire him, remembering that twinkle in your eyes from a long time ago. Remembering that smile you rarely save for Jungkook to see these days.

So, yes. Jungkook feels a weird tingle in the pit of his stomach like he’s being teased. Like it’s your first month of dating and he’s back in college again. Standing on the side like this, waiting for you to finish the conversation, the bitterness can only creep up on him at this point.

Your photographer just had to look like an underwear model.

The drive back home is worse than when Jungkook came to pick you up. He isn’t saying a word and neither are you, but he seems to be the only one bothered by it. With one hand at the steering wheel, he catches a glance at you on his side. Your nose digs into the map Taehyung gave you to bring home and your focus holds so much, you don’t even notice him staring. He can’t see much of what’s on the inside, not with the sun that has already set and the darkness that has consumed his sight.

Once you arrive home, Jungkook makes a beeline to the bedroom and you don’t put in much effort to run after the man. You store the portfolio someplace safe, where you’re sure nothing could spill or damage it in any way. It’s undeniable how today’s events made you feel like an absolute doll. Maybe it’s the after effects, or maybe it’s the fact that you’re running your entire skincare routine with droplets of water from your shower still dripping from your wet hair. It doesn’t really matter. You’ve been feeling like a pretty girl all day and you want to continue feeling that way.

It’s evident in the way you choose to wear the prettiest slip dress you can find hanging in your closet, the satin material cutting off just beneath the swell of your ass. It’s a piece Jungkook bought you a while ago during one of his first trips away, coming home with a Dior bow wrapped around the luxury packaging and a boyish smile dragging up the edges of his lips. It’s been his favorite ever since. Always loved how the fabric hugged your every curve, the way your nipples seemed to pinch right through. The way his eyes were unable to rip his gaze off you.

It’s when you enter the bedroom as Jungkook’s broad back meets you, seated at the edge of the queen sized bed with his elbows resting atop his thighs. He doesn’t bat an eye as he feels the bed dip behind him. Your knees dig into the fluffed sheets as you reach closer, heaving a loud sigh like you’re calling out for him.

“You don’t like him, do you?” you hum sweetly, pausing when your front is pressed against his back, heat radiating between you. It’s obvious who you’re referring to, hands travel at his both sides before you embrace him from beneath his arms. “Taehyung is a talented guy, don’t be so hard on him.” You chuckle at his ear, leaving a single, soft peck at his cheek. “Maybe you should flip through the portfolio we put together. You’ll really see him in a different light then, trust me.”

Manicured fingers fumble around until they reach the lowest button of his blouse. Starting from the bottom, you undo it, and you can hear the subtle sigh coming from his nose, jaw set tight as his teeth grind together. You press a trail of wet kisses to his warm skin rather than commenting on it, right below his earlobe reaching lower towards the sweet spots in his velvety neck, nails teasing at his stomach as you continue to unbutton his shirt. Jungkook is holding back, you can tell by the way his head tilts your way and eyes close at the feel of your lips buried deep in his neck, tits pressing at his backside as your hands are all over him, eagerly fumbling with his shirt–not giving into your touch. Not yet.

‘‘You’re still in your work clothes,’’ you hum in his neck, as if it isn’t already obvious. His dress pants tighten around his thick thighs each time he sits down and it’s your favorite thing in the world, the outline of his hardening crotch a little more visible with each gentle nip of your teeth against his skin.

“Yeah,” he sighs. ‘’Just in case my tipsy wife couldn’t drive her way back home again and I’d end up changing clothes anyway,’’ Jungkook simply says, even if the bitter edge to his statement doesn’t go missed by you.

You chuckle cutely, the sweet sound roaming at his ear. Is that why he’s upset? ‘‘Okay, alright.’’ You breathe lightly, sliding the light fabric of his shirt off his broad shoulders, his hot and inked almond skin on full display when you settle for less, throwing the piece to the side. Playful pecks follow at his shoulder blade, tender and deliberate. You trail your fingers lightly along the curves of his muscular back until you decide you had enough, rounding him until you straddle him, both legs on his either side. Cupping his face, you make him lock eyes. ‘‘I’m sorry for the late night drive. I probably shouldn’t have drunk as much as I did,’’ you confess softly, voice laced with a hint of mischief, hips carefully beginning to roll against his. ‘‘But I promise to behave next time, okay?’’

With his face cupped in your hands, you press your lips against his to pull him in a longing kiss, lingering a little longer than usual. You can tell he’s tired, that he doesn’t have much energy left over to deal with you, though your lips dance in unison anyway. Sweetly sucking onto your bottom lip like he’s hungry and you’re a free buffet. You watch as you detach from him, his eyes fluttering open after. “You’re in a good mood.” Jungkook hums with heavy lidded eyes on yours.

‘‘That’s because I had a good day.’’ You sing gently. Your wide, toothy smile would usually be one thing that he believes could halt anyone in their tracks. Though he beats you to it as you reach for another peck at the lips.

‘‘Hm, yeah?’’ He asks, head tilting. And even though his thumbs start caressing sweet circles at your exposed thigh, disappearing beneath the rich satin of your nightdress, all you can focus on is the tight line of his lips. The slight pinch between his brows. ‘‘My day was less fun, baby.’’

Your playful demeanor shifts at the seriousness of his tone, the straight face he gives you as he examines your every move unable to go unnoticed by you. It’s not like you’ve forgotten about the argument you had earlier today. It’s just that you’ve been in a position where you came as a second option to him all the time, so when the roles were reversed this morning, you didn’t have it in you to feel bad. Still, with a sympathetic expression, you lean in closer, a gentle whisper against his lips. ‘‘You want to tell me about it?’’ you ask, fully prepared to hear about all the ways he felt when you left the house like you haven’t been through it yourself.

He keeps his eyes on you for a minute longer and you can’t seem to figure out what is going through his head. Neither of you say anything and he keeps you in the dark for a moment, staring at you with those heavy lidded eyes that don’t bring you much further. “I’d drive around town to pick you up in the middle of the night, ___. You could call me at 3 in the fucking morning and I’d be there without another word.” Jungkook’s fingers tighten at your hips, gaze flickering to your lips. His voice is stern, like he’s preaching. You merely stare back at him with those big eyes of yours, like you wouldn’t have an idea where he’s going with this. “Late night drives don’t bother me at all.”

“Okay,” you pause carefully, head tilting to indicate you’re listening. “Then what does?” Two hands go through his black locks, pushing the hair out of his face as you begin to massage his scalp. The feel of your nails against his scalp is always so reassuring to him, even though not a hint of reassurance paints his face right now.

His lips press together. Why does he have to chew it out for you? You can’t seem to figure it out yourself and Jungkook’s patience is running on thin ice. It’s not a combination either of you like to see. “Don’t you know it’s inappropriate to keep employees on the job so long after business hours? It’s unprofessional, ___.” He drops the bomb, causing the fingers that are running through his hair to slow down. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d be home late?”

You can’t help but let out a chuckle. “I wasn’t working, Jungkook.” You laugh, though his mood doesn’t lighten up. “Taehyung and I were celebrating–it’s my first modeling job in years. We kind of had to.”

“With wine?”

You halt at the shift in his tone, at his voice that’s laced with accusation. The single brow that arches up his forehead as if he’s searching for a reason to be angry, to find fault in your actions. ‘‘Yes, with wine,’’ you reply, maintaining your composure. ‘‘What’s the issue? You drink wine with your colleagues all the time.’’

The air in the room becomes tense as he continues to scrutinize you, eyes burning with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. ‘‘At social gatherings, yes. Not one-on-one in a room the size of my kitchen cabinet, ___, come on. What are you even on?’’

‘‘What am I on?’’ You repeat and pull away from him, back straightening as your hands fall to your lap. ‘‘Jungkook, I'm not on anything. I don’t know what you’re insinuating but I was simply celebrating a milestone with a very professional guy. You do that all the time. Is that so wrong when I do it?’’

His gaze remains fixed on you, his expression hardened. ‘‘It’s not about right or wrong,’’ he retorts, his voice sharper than it has been all night. ‘‘I’m just saying this guy is not your colleague, he’s not your coworker. He’s just some guy you met a couple days ago. I would have appreciated it if you had considered our relationship before indulging in a late-night celebration with another man.’’

Your eyes widen at his words, blood starting to boil when you cross your arms, jaw locked tightly. ‘‘Either you’re being very jealous and fucking possessive right now, or you’re making me feel like you don’t trust me.’’ You say, tone firm. ‘‘And it better not be the latter, Jungkook. Because we’ve been together for way too long to be worrying about this type of shit.’’

You watch him with anticipation but he doesn’t give you an answer right away. Just stares at you with those stern, dark eyes and raises a single eyebrow like you’ll have to figure it out yourself. ‘‘Oh my God,’’ you mumble in disbelief, flying off his lap and ripping his touch off you.

‘‘It’s not you I don’t trust,’’ he heaves a sigh, arms resting atop his knees as his hands intertwine. ‘‘I trust you, I always have trusted you. But him? I don’t know that guy, ___.’’ He points at the door with a flat hand. ‘‘And I’m not an insecure guy, you know that. I got nothing against him, but when you chose that guy to go to earlier this morning even after I told you I was ready to sit down and talk things through, then yes, it hurt my fucking pride. You just turned your back on me.’’

His words hang in the air as you stand there, his frustration and vulnerability obvious. ‘‘I’ve been in a position where I came as a second option to you before. Multiple times, Jungkook, don’t you forget that.’’ You scold him, keeping your voice calm. ‘‘You’re always scheduling meetings, saying yes to promotions and extra hours. Taking on additional responsibilities when you know our relationship can’t afford it right now… I’ve been ready to fix us for a long time, and I’d be the first one in line to give us all the closure we’re reaching out for.’’

You hover over him with the way he’s still seated, continuing. ‘‘But I’m not a puppet. You can’t just pull me out of the closet whenever it comes in handy, and you suddenly feel like talking things out. Like, you leave for that trip in four days and you feel like now is the time to talk things through?’’

He pauses, not uttering a single word for what feels like an eternity. His palms rub together like he’s in deep thought. And for a moment, you imagine what it would be like if your words finally seemed to work through, if they finally made an impact on him. You give him the time to process in silence, watching over him like a hawk, crossed arms over your chest.

‘‘Are you still going to see him while I’m away?’’ He finally asks, voice barely audible. His gaze fixates on a certain spot in the room, avoiding direct eye contact with you.

‘‘I don’t know, probably.’’ You huff, arms falling to your sides and losing all the hope you gathered before. ‘‘Are we still talking about Taehyung? I don’t see how this is relevant to the conversation we’re having.’’

‘‘It’s important to me,’’ Jungkook asserts, standing up from his seat and sauntering up to you with deliberate, measured steps. He takes you by the hand, guiding you a few steps further into the bedroom until you both stand in front of the full-length mirror leaning against the wall. He places his hands on your hips and continues to wrap his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. ‘‘I need to know your answer before I give you your gift.’’

You blink slowly. A sense of weariness washes over you. ‘‘My what?’’

Jungkook holds you tightly, his front glued to your back like you’ll shrug him off anytime soon. His chest holds onto the same warmth it always has, radiating it to you and you’re instantly warming up at the feel. ‘‘You smell so good,’’ he digs his nose into a sweet spot at your neck, ignoring your confused state when he sniffs at your skin. Vanilla sugar scrub. The one he included in your valentine’s gift only a few years back, before you had gotten married. You had told him you loved it back then. And at first he thought you said it just to say it, up until the moment you started to swim in vanilla, only lasting a week or two with the product. Your brand new, shared bathroom permanently smelling like sweet vanilla and sugar, smelling like you.

You asked him where he bought it, but he wouldn’t tell. Don’t be such a guy, you told him. You had enough time in the world to run to the store and get it yourself. But he wouldn’t budge. Jungkook wanted to be the one to keep buying it for you. He wanted to be your guy; the one who bought you your vanilla sugar body scrub. And he has done it ever since he promised himself to become that guy. The one who made sure there’s a refilled bottle at your bathroom counter every month.

Jungkook places a sweet kiss on your collarbone. ‘‘It’d make me feel so good to have you on the trip, in my suite… smelling like this.’’ He says softly, veiny hands traveling over the thin, silky material of your dress until they get to slip underneath. Drawing gentle circles over your skin as you can only see the top of his head through the mirror with the way he buries his face in your neck. ‘‘I would be exhausted after working all day, but it’d be worth it. Don’t you think?’’

‘‘Jungkook…’’ He doesn’t give you much time to continue when his lips press against your skin. Wet, loud and lewd pecks left in an unfamiliar pattern down your neck.

Jungkook hums in the crook of your neck. ‘‘Maybe a change in environment would do us good.’’ His fingertips tickle you when they continue to feel you up, curling around the thin lace of your thong as he tugs at it. You’re unable to prevent the sweet gasp from coming out when it moves between your ass cheeks. “We’d get to be away from the house for a little while. To take all the time in the world to make up, to make sure we’re okay and ready to move on.”

You don’t stop him when his fingers carefully dip beneath the lace of your underwear, and you’re sure your brain has altered you from pushing him away. Altered you from standing your ground with two firm feet planted to the ground. Instead, you melt into him with the back of your own head prompted to his shoulder this time, bare neck on full display for him. You feel your knees getting weaker when he presses two fingers to your sensitive bud with a bit more pressure than you’re used to, his other hand holding onto you tightly to keep you standing.

It usually starts like this. One moment you’re arguing with him, pouring your heart out and laying yourself bare before him, and the next, you fall into him, forgetting what you were about to say next as you reach out for a breath of air. It doesn’t take long before you’re completely losing yourself in his arms, against his chest, two of his inked fingers dipping into your heat even as your walls begin to tighten around them. You don’t stop him, you love each drag of his thick fingers in your cunt as you stand on your tippy toes, tightly holding onto him at the nape of his neck while he fingerfucks you into another world. Jungkook sneaks a glance at you through the mirror every now and then. Once now, twice when he can feel his dick erect in his pants at the sight of your pinched eyes, your heavy breaths and your hardened nipples through your dress.

Jungkook brings you out to the bed when you nearly tip over without the heels of your feet supporting your weight. He lays you down carefully like you’re fragile, like you’ll break down any minute. Spreading your legs with your panties shoved to the side, he curses to himself when he laps at your sweet juices, coating his tongue as he sucks it up without a complaint as your fingers curl in his hair and back arches off the mattress. Pride is what he feels. Pride is what he feels when you tell him he’s wearing too much, when you tell him he could lose some and you wouldn’t mind. He does as you desire, taking off his dress pants as well as his already stained boxers to reveal the hard-on he’s been hiding. Red and swollen dick that’s so erect, it bounces back to his stomach. He watches as you eye fuck him, as your mouth waters only at the sight. At the ideas that swim through your head. It’s a tit for a tat, he tells you. A give and a take. You want him just as much as he wants you. It’s only fair you both get what you want.

It’s when you disregard your flimsy dress over the top of your head, tits bouncing back and hair splayed out over the bed when he feels like he starts to lose control. Fisting his cock in your warm, slick hand in between your bodies, you pump him up and down as he reaches for another kiss that leaves you breathless beneath him. He doesn’t mind you gasping for air every now and then, enjoying the feel of your chest rising up and down against his own. Hips thrust into your hand when your grip becomes a little tighter, a little more precise and a little more skilled, thumb reaching to tease at his tip. But he stops himself before he shoots his load right onto your stomach. If he’s coming anywhere tonight, it’s going to be inside you.

You know that’s exactly what he wants when you get to all fours for him. Knees digging into the made sheets, your face buried in the soft satin with your ass high up in the air just the way he likes. Jungkook’s hands are at your hips without hesitation, gripping onto your hips as he lines up to your sweet cunt. The first stroke is the one most careful. Even after being together for a total of 7 years, each and every time, you need some time getting used to his size. It doesn’t matter, whatever feels best for you, is what he has said from the beginning. After all, it’s all worth it when he gets to pound deep into you mere minutes later, skin slapping against skin as he watches your ass cheeks bounce back and forth.

He can’t take it. He needs to see all of you from each angle available. You’re not surprised when he gently tugs you up by the arm, though you nearly melt into him again and all your weight shifts onto him to carry back to the full length mirror leaned up against the wall. He pumps into your pussy there, making you watch as you get fucked from behind with a hand wrapped around your throat and an arm hunched around your waist to keep you glued to him. Your heavy breaths melt together the faster his pace increases, hitting your sweet spot with every pound of his hips into yours, with dirty thoughts slipping his tongue, with every drag of his cock into your dripping cunt while he consumes each plea coming from your lips. Begging him to fuck you until you lose it. Begging him to feel his cum inside you as you feel his every inch, feel his everything.

He does as you plead in the end. Jungkook comes undone inside you, your ass pressed against him while pretty whimpers leave your pretty mouth and he ignores his own panting to get the best out of you. His hips stutter when warm spurts of cum fill you up, leaving you like a mess hanging onto him with all the energy you have left over.

But he takes care of you after, like he always does. Jungkook lays you back onto the bed carefully, returning from the bathroom with a damp, warm towel as he cleans you up and hoists you back into your dress and beneath the slick sheets. He pushes your hair out of your face, pushes strands and pieces behind your ear and makes sure the sheets are pulled up to your shoulders. You lay on his side of the bed, eyes heavy lidded and ready to drift off. But he doesn’t mind. You’re exhausted, and for good reason.

‘‘Before you fall asleep, princess,’’ he begins softly, fingers gently brushing at your forehead to push off imaginary strands of hair, watching as your eyes flicker open slowly. ‘‘I need to give you my gift.’’

You had forgotten all about the gift.

Jungkook hovers over you, reaching for the envelope at his nightstand that has your name on it in that awful handwriting of his. He hands it to you and you take the piece of paper in your hands, fiddling with the corners of it as your eyes meet his again. He can’t quite pinpoint what it is that runs through your head, but your brows slightly furrow like you’re afraid to open it up.

‘‘It’s yours.’’ He nudges at your side, fist supporting the weight of his head next to you as he leans in closer. His voice is gentle, almost comforting, as if he wants to ease any worries you’ve been keeping from him.

You open it up, revealing another piece of paper inside of it.

First class passenger’s boarding pass.

He watches you intently, waiting for your reaction with those big eyes. ‘‘So, what do you say?’’ He asks impatiently. ‘‘Are you coming with me on that trip?’’

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[naffeclipse]

I have read all your non-human reader fics and unreasonable amount over. I am begging you with the small peice of soul I have left. If you drop a non-human oneshot or even js an IDEA for a fic or a oneshot I will devour that like I haven't been fed in years. (I love non-human readers so much its addicting.)

Hm, okay! I have an idea or two, and centaurs have been on the brain, so you're getting that.

You are a deer centaur. You're graceful and quick as you prance through meadows and wave through trees effortlessly. Humans rarely travel this far, but you've noticed two beings of metal that sometimes move through here, guiding humans to the other side of your vast wild lands. You hardly ever let them see you for a moment that's not simply your tail-end as you bound away, but they sometimes stop and stare as you go.

You grow used to seeing them, the brothers. The one has a visage like a sun with beams surrounding his head and the other wears a cap over his moon-crescent face. Their jackets are leather, the ones hunters like to wear. One wears old yellow and the other wears dark gray. The colors make them stand out, unlike the hunters.

They're quiet, unlike the noisy humans that stomp and travel through with their hand carts and whining cattle. When they return without people to guide them, they sometimes sit under the shade of a tree and rest for a moment. You nearly stepped on the sunny one when you were plucking flowers in the meadow and jerked upright to see his wide eyes staring up at you, his mouth agape in awe and shock from where he had been resting on the grass. He tried to say something but you ran away before he could.

The other caught you off guard when you were slipping to the creek. You found him downstream a few yards away, washing his hands and scrubbing dirt from the jolts of his wrists. You were too thirsty to turn away from a cool drink. His head lifted and he froze while you knelt down on your four legs and cupped your hands together to fill them with the creek water. He said not a word before you finished gulping and dripping water on your bare chest. He tried to when you got back on your hooves. You didn't catch whatever he said.

The season changes, and you wonder why you haven't seen the brothers for some time. All the grass has dripped into gold and the heat of the day has eased while the nights become blissfully cool. Do those kind of metal creatures get sick? Did they decide they were tired of guiding humans? You stray closer and closer to the wagon-rutted path they take between the trees, but you neither hear nor see signs of them. That's too bad. You continue jumping over ferns and galloping through open fields, ignoring that slight pang in your chest. You spend your days eating wild apples and carefully removing ripe berries from thorny veins.

Until you notice, during one munch under an apple tree, the glint of something silver like teeth in the shade of trees on the far end of the meadow. Your floppy ears swivel. You stop chewing.

Then a report of a gun explodes your senses. Two shots in the same thunderous cry. Pain sears through the meat of your back right flank and the soft point between your shoulder and your chest. You nearly buckle before scrambling upright and bolting. You hear curses and shouts. Hunters. Their jackets are brown and camouflage.

Blood trails behind you, marking every half-wilted leave and mud-dark trail. You stumble. Your mind is caught stiffly in the combined panic and shock of pain, and you collapse onto the path that bears wheel marks from wagons. You have to get up. You writhe, kicking up stones and dust, but you don't find a way to return to your hooves.

Then you hear voices. Your vision blurs and your panic spills out into a bleat from your lips before someone softly shushes you. Your skull is taken in gentle, metal hands. A cool touch falls to your lower half's ribs, and you feel sticky and hot with blood. A voice asks what happened. Something gives way within you. Refuge. Exhaustion sinks into your eyes, and you falter into the darkness.

When you wake, it's warm. You blearily realize you can smell something strange and sharp, like the medicinal herbs you collect to prevent invention, but it's smothered under something. Your head is cradled by a soft pillow. Slowly, you realize walls surround you, and it looks terribly similar to the log cabin you once followed the brothers to one season just to see where they ended up when they weren't roaming.

You're sprawled upon a cool, open floor with a sheet underneath you. Your fingers explore gingerly and find bandages around your shoulder and your flank, your tan fur clean of blood. You jerk upright before you hear "I'd take it easy. You lost a lot of blood."

You twist your head to find one of the brothers sitting on the floor beside the pillow you were just lying on. His half-moon face regards you quietly. Through an entryway, the other brother emerges and you flinch at his arrival. His eyes widen before his mouth splits in relief.

"Oh! Good, you're awake. You gave us quite the fright."

Pain dully throbs underneath the bandages, but you realize you're not going anywhere anytime soon, even if your instinct screams at you to flee. The brothers gently sit beside you and tell you their names. Sun and Moon. You regard them in the way you would regard a snake in your path, but they don't hiss or rattle. Instead, they chuckle and ask you in a dozen different ways if you're alright, and what happened. By the storms in their faces, you figure they can guess.

Sun gives you a cup of water, and Moon asks if he can check your bandages. You shift anxiously, almost spilling your drink while he gently peals back the sticky, ruddy-stained patches to see the sizeable hole blown into your lower half. You would have bled to death. You would have been someone's trophy.

"You're safe with us." Sun gently takes the cup from your trembling hand before you spill anymore. "You can rest as long as you like."

"I want to leave. Now," you say, and even when you try to kick up and get back upright, you only manage to interrupt Moon while he's stuffing cleaning herbs against your bullet wound. You gasp and then yelp from the searing pain of jostling your tender injuries.

"Don't move," Moon growls once. "You're going to start bleeding again if you keep that up."

It's enough to make your ears flatten and you freeze.

"He's right." Sun nods, understanding concern coating his expression. "You can't leave like this. I promise it'll only be so long as you need to recover."

This will take weeks to heal if not months. You hardly belong in a close-quarters house, much less in the care of two machines, but they hum and gently tend to you until you stop fidgeting and accept pills from a little pale bottle. The pain slips away, but so do you as Sun's fingers gently brush your floppy ears and chat quietly about illegal hunters in this area. Moon shifts his attention to your shoulder. You wince when he touches it, and he apologizes. There's a blood stain on the pillow you're resting on. You let him inspect the wound before he softly touches your arm and tells you to get some rest. It will help you heal.

And that's how you spend most of the season in the care of Sun and Moon.

[candycandy00]

Come Find Me - A Hawks x Reader x Dabi Horror Fanfic

You’re dating your childhood friend Touya, and things are going well, until you’re kidnapped and drugged by a serial killer named Keigo. 

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Dark Content. Noncon/Rape via drugging and Dubcon. Humiliation. Voyeurism. This is a dark, disturbing fic! 

Written for the Halloween challenge in the X Reader Lovers Community! Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @benkeibear!

You step out of your parents’ house, closing the door behind you and making sure your phone is crammed into your small purse. As you step off the porch and into the driveway, you hear a familiar voice call your name. You turn to see your next door neighbor and childhood friend Touya crossing over into your yard. 

“Goin’ somewhere?” he asks, glancing at his watch. 

“Yeah, just gotta grab a few things at the store for mom,” you reply. 

He stands there awkwardly for a moment, looking around. “It’s gettin’ pretty dark. Want me to go with you?”

You smile at his concern. The two of you are both in college, but still live in your childhood homes for now. Partly because you’re hesitant to separate. You’ve been in love with him since you were children, and only recently confessed your feelings to him. In true Touya fashion, he’d scoffed, looked away, and blushed before quietly admitting that he felt the same way. 

You’re still trying to navigate this new dynamic in your relationship. You’ve only been on a couple of dates so far, and only had your first kiss three days ago as the two of you sat on your bed watching a movie. Despite being adults, you feel like teenagers sneaking around. Touya suggested taking a weekend trip just to have some privacy. You’re excited for what might happen when you’re truly alone together.

“I’ll be fine,” you tell him. “I’m just going to the convenience store down the street.”

He frowns. “Yeah, but with those rumors going around…”

“I’ll take mom’s car, okay? Seriously, I’ll be fine. We used to walk to that store all the time when we were kids, remember?”

You understand his concern. For the past few months, women around your age have been turning up dead, their bodies butchered in horrific ways. Rumors have been going around that they all had one thing in common besides being in their early twenties. 

All of them had high levels of Cupid’s Arrow in their system.

Cupid’s Arrow is a new, very dangerous drug that you had zero interest in until the rumors started. After all, you’ve never tried anything stronger than some cheap weed Touya bought from a friend when you were both teenagers. And Cupid’s Arrow is powerful, with terrifying effects. 

Anyone given Cupid’s Arrow will immediately develop an intense romantic and sexual obsession with the first person they see after taking it. The effect is so strong that the user will do literally anything to please the object of their obsession, even if it results in great harm.

Apparently, some couples who are into more extreme activities like to try using it, and some couples have used it as a way of proving their trust in each other. And of course, like with all things, there are people who use it to abuse others, basically turning people into their own brainwashed sex slaves. 

The idea of these poor women being given the drug, being abused in some disgusting way, and then murdered while still on the drug, disturbs you greatly. The poor things probably laid there and let the killer chop them up, all the while looking at him adoringly. The thought sends shivers down your spine. 

Still, the women were all found near the city, not out in the suburbs where you live. And the store is close by. What kind of life is it if a grown woman can’t go to a store by herself? 

You give Touya a kiss on the cheek and climb into your mom’s car. “I’ll be right back,” you tell him. 

He still looks worried as he watches you pull out of the driveway, throwing his hand up in somewhat awkward wave. 

The drive there is brief and uneventful, and the small store is uncrowded. You quickly gather up the items your mom needed and a couple of snacks for yourself, then start toward the front to check out. That’s when you remember Touya waiting for you, and decide to pick up something for him. 

You head back down the snack aisle again, barely noticing the other person walking down it. You stop and look over the various bags and packages until you spot the strawberry pocky Touya loves. You smile to yourself as you reach out to grab the last pack. Suddenly, another hand is reaching toward the pocky, brushing against your own. 

You draw back, looking at the man standing next to you. He’s just a few inches taller than you, with wavy dark blonde hair and sharp, golden eyes. 

“Oh, sorry!” he says, his face breaking into a friendly smile. He’s very good looking, though you think Touya is much hotter. 

“That’s okay,” you tell him, returning the smile, “you can have it.”

“Oh no, sweetheart, you take it,” he says, flashing a grin. 

You blink at the pet name, but decide to quickly make it clear that you’re taken. “I was just picking them up for my boyfriend. I can get him something else.”

If he’s deterred at all by your comment, he doesn’t show it. Instead he grabs the pack of pocky and casually tosses them into your basket. “Don’t worry about it. I think I’m hungry for something different anyway.”

You’re not sure if he’s being suggestive or nice, so you give him an uneasy smile and nod before walking to the counter to pay, leaving him to continue browsing the snacks. 

When you step out into the cool evening air, you sigh as you hear your phone chime. You hope it’s not a message from your mom, adding another item to the list. You shift your bags to one arm and then dig your phone out of your purse, pausing in the middle of the parking lot to look at the screen. 

You smile. It’s a message from Touya, asking how the shopping trip is going. He really does worry too much. 

“Just leaving the store,” you type back. “See you soon.”

Just as you start to drop your phone back into your purse, you suddenly sense movement behind you. But before you can turn to look back, a white cloth covers your mouth and nose. You smell a strange chemical odor as your body becomes weak. Your bags, phone, and purse drop to the ground. 

A familiar, friendly voice at your ear says, “Sorry, sweetheart, but I’m taking you home with me.”

You want to fight, to struggle, but all strength has left your body. You’ve gone limp in his arms, and now, darkness overtakes you. 

When you wake up, you have no idea how much time has passed, and even less idea of where you are. It looks like the living room of a nice apartment, but it’s entirely unfamiliar to you. 

Blinking rapidly to clear your vision, you begin to notice other things. You’re sitting on a couch, still fully clothed, and your arms are tied behind your back with a very thin rope. You jerk against it, trying to pull free, but the knots are too strong. Your heart is racing and your head is pounding as you try to remember how you got here, to force the grogginess from your mind. 

You remember being at the store, paying for your items, then… someone grabbed you from behind! And now you remember the voice you heard. It was the handsome stranger from the snack aisle! Did he seriously kidnap you? 

As if the thought summoned him, he appears in a doorway, walking into the living room. “Oh, hey, you’re awake,” he says in that same friendly tone, as if he’s still chatting with you about pocky. He’s wearing casual clothes, ripped jeans and a white T-shirt. He looks good in them, and it makes you wonder why someone who looks like him has to resort to kidnapping women. 

Oh yeah, stuff like this is about power. He probably has no interest in girls who want him. 

“Where am I? Why did you bring me here?” you ask, trying to keep your voice calm. If there’s even a slim chance you can convince him to let you go, it’s worth trying. 

He smiles in an easy going way as he leans back against the wall. “Come on, it has to be obvious by now.”

The words, spoken so charmingly, send a jolt of fear through your heart. You look him in the eyes. “Are you going to rape me?”

He gives a dismissive wave of his hand. “That’s such a nasty term. The idea of holding down a struggling woman just doesn’t appeal to me. I want you to enjoy it too.”

You try to keep your voice even, rational. “I can’t enjoy it though. I have a boyfriend, remember?”

He laughs. “Oh don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll forget all about him as soon as I give you this.” 

From his pocket, he pulls a small clear vial of liquid. Then he walks over to a small end table you hadn’t noticed before and picks up a syringe. You feel your heart drop to your feet as a sense of dread washes over you. 

“What is that?” you ask, already suspecting the answer but unable to process the terrible truth until he says it. 

“You’ve heard of Cupid’s Arrow, right?” he asks, still acting so friendly. 

“Please don’t do this!” you cry, jerking on the ropes again. 

He steps closer as he fills the syringe. “It’s okay! Once you take this, you’ll enjoy everything I do to you. You’ll beg for my cock. You’ll want me inside you every minute of every day,” he says, standing over you and looking down with a sultry gaze. “And I’ll make sure I keep you satisfied.”

“No!” you shout, fighting against the ropes, trying to draw back away from him. 

He presses one knee into the couch beside you and holds the syringe in front of your panicked face. “I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.”

You look up at him, tears dripping down your face. “Please… don’t! I don’t want this! I have someone I love,” you plead, your last hope being to appeal to his mercy. “I’m… I’m saving myself for him! So please…”

He pauses, a flicker of surprise on his face. Then he smiles. “In that case, I’ll be real gentle with you the first time. I’ll take good care of you.”

You’re shaking your head as he grips your shoulder, holding you steady. “Please please… don’t do this!”

As you feel the needle pierce your skin and a cold sensation flow into your body, you cry out the name of the person you wish you could see just one more time. “Touya!”

You black out again, slumping over on the couch with your hands still tied behind you. When you wake up the second time, your hands are free, but your arms are sore. You’re still wearing the same clothes you wore to the store. You try to get up from the couch, but a wave of dizziness washes over you, forcing you to sit back down. 

After giving yourself a moment for your head to clear, you slowly stand back up. You have to find a way out of here before he comes back. If you don’t look at him, the drug won’t activate. If you can just find a place to hide until it wears off, you’ll be in the clear! 

Carefully, while keeping your eyes on the floor and only occasionally glancing up at your surroundings, you navigate around the coffee table and out of the living room, to the small foyer and the front door. You try to open it, but it’s locked. Of course it is. You check the knob, but there’s some sort of electric lock device that requires you to input a code. 

Maybe there’s a back door? Or a balcony? If this is an apartment, and it’s on a low enough floor, maybe you could climb over and take your chances with a fall. A broken ankle would be better than whatever this man has planned for you. 

He’s the Cupid’s Arrow killer. You’re sure of it. You still remember the report you read about one of the women they found. She was the same age as you, in college like you. And she’d been completely gutted, all her insides on the outside, her naked, butchered body tossed by the side of a road. 

You head back through the living room, toward the back row of curtains. The balcony must be there! Just before you reach them, you feel a pair of arms wrap around your body and pull you back. 

“Where are you wandering off to?” he asks, his tone as cheerful as ever. He turns you to face him, and you slam your eyes shut. 

“Come on, sweetheart, look at me,” he says, dragging you back toward the couch. 

You shake your head, screaming “I’d rather die!” You struggle and squirm in his arms, desperate to get free, but his grip is strong. 

“Don’t say that,” he says with a light chuckle, as if your battle to escape is amusing. He pushes you down onto the couch, on your back, and you feel him climb on top of you to hold you down with his body. He smells like expensive cologne, the kind of trendy stuff Touya would never wear. 

“Open your eyes,” he says, his voice finally taking on a slightly firm tone. 

You shake your head again. “Never!”

He sighs. “I’m not so bad, right? I’m hot, I’m clean, I’m funny, and I know how to please a woman. I can make you cum until you pass out. I see the way chicks look at me. They want me. You’re pretty lucky!”

Tears are leaking out of your closed eyes. “But you’re not the man I love! I don’t care how hot you are, or any of that other stuff! I just want to be with Touya!”

He goes quiet, not speaking. Is he just waiting for you to give out and open your eyes? Or is he considering your words? Without seeing the expression on his face, you can’t tell. “Why are you even doing this? If women want you, why use the drug?”

There’s a pause, then he answers. “You’ve never seen anyone under the effects of Cupid’s Arrow, have you? Most people haven’t. It’s hard to describe how incredibly hot it is, to have someone be completely devoted to you, obsessed with you, to have someone dedicate their whole life to pleasing you. When a pretty girl is crying her eyes out because she spilled a single drop of my cum out of her cute little mouth, it just does something to me.”

You sob, realizing he’s not going to let you go, and understanding what he’s going to be doing to you. All the things you wanted to experience with Touya, you’re going to be doing them with this stranger.  

You hear him sigh again. “I really hate using force, but you’re leaving me no choice here.”

His fingers are now on your face, prying open your right eyelid. You scream and buck, trying to shake him off you, but it’s no use. He’s too strong. You’re forced to look at his handsome, friendly face. 

The effect is immediate. Your body craves him instantly, powerfully. You stare up at him with both eyes open as he climbs off you and stands up. 

You sit up, your eyes drawn to him. 

“Stand up,” he says, “and take off your clothes.”

Your body obeys, standing up from the couch and peeling off your shirt. As you strip off the rest of your clothing, you realize this nightmare is even more horrific than you thought. 

Because you’re still aware of everything. You know you’ve been drugged, you know you don’t love this man, you know you don’t want to do these things with him. You know you love Touya. 

But your body is seemingly acting on its own. It wants him, wants his touch, wants to make him happy. Even as your mind screams at the humiliation of being stark naked in front of this stranger, your body heats up with excitement. With horror, you realize you’re already dripping wet. It’s a sensation you’ve only ever felt while thinking of Touya, and it makes you feel sick now. 

When he steps closer, every cell in your body wants to reach out to him, to feel his skin. But you remain still, waiting for him to give another command. 

He reaches out one hand and brushes your hair back from your face. Just that subtle touch leaves you breathless. 

“So pretty,” he says, his golden eyes traveling up and down your body. You’ve never been more embarrassed! He takes one of your hands and leads you out of the living room, down a short hall and into a bedroom. 

You know what’s going to happen, and you’re equal parts horrified and aroused. Your mind at war with your body. You open your mouth to speak, to beg him to let you go, but instead of the words you want to say, completely different words flow out of you. 

“Please, take me,” you say, your voice a desperate plea. “I can’t wait any longer!”

He smiles, and your heart skips a beat. He’s so hot, with such beautiful eyes… no! These aren’t your thoughts! The drug is making you think these things!

“Just give me a minute,” he says, “and I’ll make you feel things you’ve never imagined.”

With that, he steps back from you and pulls off his shirt. His body is well toned, his skin smooth but for the thin trail of blonde hair leading from his navel down under the waistband of his jeans. Oh god, you want him so badly! Your juices are dripping down your thighs as you look at him. But it’s just the drug. You know that. 

He pushes you onto the bed, your back against the mattress, then climbs onto the foot of the bed, on his knees. He pushes your knees apart, spreading you open for his gleaming golden eyes to drink in. For once, the two warring sides of you have the same reaction: your heart racing wildly, but for very different reasons. 

“I said I’d make you feel good, right? So just relax,” he tells you, his warm hands sliding under your ass to lift your hips up slightly as he bends forward, licking one stripe up your drenched pussy. 

The pleasure is electric, shooting through your entire body with such a simple motion. It must be the drug. You squirm beneath him, arching your back, wanting more. And he gives you more. 

His tongue pushes in between your slick folds, quickly finding your clit and licking it with the kind of expert precision you’d expect from a guy who bragged about how much he could make you cum. You’re engulfed in pleasure, even down to your curling toes, as his lips surround the delicate nub and suck on it softly, his tongue circling the tiny tip. You’ve never felt anything so amazing in your life. 

And you hate it. Because he’s not Touya. Because he’s doing all this against your will. Because forcing you to enjoy it all with drugs only fucks up your mind even more. 

When you cum, trembling and gasping, you feel ashamed, like you betrayed the man you really love. Tears leak out of your eyes, either from being overwhelmed by pleasure or some remnant of your true feelings. The stranger raises up and brushes them away with his thumb. “It’s okay,” he tells you in a sweet voice. “Just let yourself feel it.”

His kindness makes your heart flutter. This drug is making you fall in love with him! No, that’s unbearable! He’s taking your heart as well as your body! 

He sits back on his knees in the bed, your legs still spread open before him, and unbuttons his jeans. You watch in breathless anticipation as he pulls his cock out. It’s a little longer than you expected, and much thicker. The girthy organ is already hard and glistening at the tip, ready to violate you. 

You try to will your voice to scream, your hands to shove him away, your legs to close. But your body doesn’t belong to you anymore. Cupid’s Arrow saw to that. 

The man pauses, looking down at your flushed, teary face. “Oh that’s right, I haven’t told you my name,” he says. You simultaneously have no interest in it and are dying to know. “It’s Keigo. So you know what to scream out while I’m fucking you.” 

He says the last part with a wink. As if he’s being cute, and not about to rape you. It nauseates you. “Please,” you say, your voice not belonging to you, “fuck me, Keigo!”

His eyes light up with excitement as he pulls your body down the bed, closer to him, lining himself up with your entrance. “I said this before, but I promise I’ll be gentle with you, since it’s your first time.”

You want to sob. This was supposed to happen with Touya! All you can do is close your eyes and try to block this all out as you feel him ease his way into you. As promised, he’s gentle, going very slowly and carefully. The drug is making you love it, making you want all of him inside you, filling you up completely. 

He’s stroking your hair lovingly, kissing your lips as his firm body brushes against yours. He looks so good above you, his hair falling into his eyes as he gazes down at you, his hard cock gradually pushing further into your wet, eager pussy. But you don’t want this! 

Your arms encircle his neck, pulling him closer as he finally bottoms out inside you, the stretch giving just the right amount of pleasant sting. He waits for a moment, looking into your eyes, then kisses you deeply as he begins thrusting. His tongue is in your mouth, invading it, just as his cock is invading you. His thrusts are slow and deep, intimate in a way that horrifies you. 

This isn’t a simple fucking. Even a virgin like you can tell that much. The way he’s taking his time, maintaining eye contact, caressing your body… he’s making love to you. It’s so much worse than if he’d just dragged you into an alley, fucked you, and left you behind. Because this is agonizingly slow, and it’s a violation of everything you are. 

This is going to break your mind. 

Tears are coming out again, despite your moans and cries of pleasure. Keigo pauses and wipes your tears again. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

The question makes you want to scream. Is he really this delusional? But you smile up at him against your will and say, “No, it just feels so good!”

He smiles. “I’m glad. I want you to feel good,” he murmurs between kissing you, going back to thrusting into you again, this time a bit harder. “I want you to feel nothing but good, forever.”

One of his hands slides down between your bodies, his fingers finding and stroking your swollen clit. Your body twitches, arching against him, your breaths hitching. “Ahhh… Keigo!”

You’ve never felt anything like this, nothing so incredibly powerful. Your pussy clenches around him, desperate for him to cum inside you, your arms are around his neck, clinging to him like a true lover as he draws a second orgasm from your trembling body. 

He stares at your face as you cum, and you’ve never felt more humiliated. A stranger is seeing all these intimate parts of you, when you only ever wanted to show them to Touya. 

Keigo kisses you again, then plunges in deeply and releases his load, filling you up. You want to scream again, repulsed by the possibility of being impregnated by this monster. But your body craves it, hungers for his cum, clamps down on him to milk him completely. 

True to his word, Keigo is gentle with you for the rest of the night, even as he fucks you three more times. It’s only the beginning of your nightmare. 

************************************

Touya sits at his dad’s computer, one hand sweaty on the mouse and the other gripping his own knee strong enough to bruise it. He swallowed his pride and asked his asshole father for help after his girlfriend had been missing for three days. Being the son of the police chief had its advantages. 

His father stands behind him as he clicks play on the video file. It’s security camera footage from the convenience store she went to, on the night she disappeared. Touya watches as she walks out of the store, bags in hand. She pauses and digs her phone out of her purse. Is that when he sent her a text? 

Then a blonde man emerges from the store, goes up behind her, and holds something to her face. She struggles for a few moments, dropping all her stuff, then goes limp. 

Touya feels like he’s just watched a video of his own death. 

Someone took her, the love of his life, the girl he’s adored since he was five years old. For a man to take a woman by force this way, there’s no doubt he intends to harm her. The thought makes Touya’s blood boil. 

“Who is he?” Touya asks, his voice low.  

Touya’s father hesitates for a moment, as if he’s trying to think of the best way to say something terrible. Then he sighs and answers. “We don’t know his name, but we’ve seen him before, in other security footage.”

Touya turns around in the chair to look at his father. “Other footage? He’s been involved in other crimes?”

Again, a moment of hesitation before his father delivers the devastating answer. “He’s been seen grabbing other women this way. They were all found dead later. Touya, he’s the Cupid’s Arrow killer.”

Touya feels his heart stop, feels the entire world fall away as the words sink in. This man has her. He’s pumping her full of a drug that will turn her into his sex slave, which means he’s definitely raping her. Then he’s going to kill her in some grotesque and painful way. Touya can’t think of anything more nightmarish.  

He wants to smash the computer, charge out of his house and track that blonde asshole down. But he takes a few deep breaths and tries to calm himself down. He’ll never find his girlfriend if he lets his rage blind him. She needs him now more than ever. 

He’ll find her. Even if he has to turn the world upside down. 

“No one knows who he is?” Touya asks. 

His father shakes his head. “His face is never visible in the footage. We can’t ID him based on hair and build alone. He clearly knows what he’s doing.”

Touya turns back to the computer, rewinds the footage, and watches it again. It feels like stabbing himself in the heart, but he forces himself to watch it several more times, burning the image of the man into his brain. 

For the next week, Touya sits in the parking lot of the convenience store, watching every person who goes in or out. If the killer came here once, he could come here again.

On the sixth night, Touya is beginning to lose hope when he spots him. A guy who looks just like the man in the footage parks a vehicle near the edge of the parking lot and walk into the store. Touya’s heart pounds as he watches the man come back out, carrying a couple of bags. The man is smiling to himself as he climbs into his car and pulls out onto the road. 

Touya follows him, staying back far enough to avoid detection but close enough to see any turns the car makes. Eventually the bastard pulls into a high end apartment complex just inside the city. Touya parks far away, and watches from a distance as the man gets out of his car. He’s whistling to himself, the sound echoing in the parking garage, as he gets into an elevator. 

As the doors close, Touya rushes over to see what floor the elevator stops on. Fifth floor! Touya sprints to the stairwell and hurries up the flights of stairs, hoping he’s fast enough to see which apartment the man goes into. He’s panting by the fourth floor, cursing himself for not working out more when his brothers invited him to the gym with them. But he reaches the fifth floor quickly, and carefully opens the door, peeking out around the edge, hoping to see the man without being seen himself. 

To Touya’s surprise, the hall is empty. The man is nowhere to be seen. Was Touya too slow? That would probably mean he’s in one of the apartments closer to the elevator, right? Maybe he could knock on a few doors, pretend he’s looking for a lost pet. 

Touya steps out of the stairwell and begins walking down the hall, passing several apartments and a maintenance room. Just as he gets close to the elevator, a white cloth suddenly closes over his mouth and nose. His mind races, remembering the images from the security footage, understanding that the same thing is happening to him. 

“I don’t know why you’re following me,” a voice says, “but we’ll figure that out when you wake up.”

And then, everything goes dark.

When Touya wakes up, he finds himself in a hardback chair in a living room, his arms tied securely behind his back with thin but sturdy rope. His ankles are tied to the chair legs. He squints his eyes at the brightness of the lighting, trying to force himself to focus on his surroundings. 

Before he’s fully alert, however, the blonde man walks into the room and sits on the couch, relaxing into it as if he’s entertaining a guest. He’s holding something in his hand, and it takes a moment for Touya to realize it’s his own driver’s license. 

The man smiles at him in a friendly way. “So you’re Touya,” he says, as if he’s heard all about him. “It’s nice to meet you. I can guess why you’re here.”

It looks could kill, Touya would have murdered this man in seconds. “Where is she?”

“She?” the man asks, a phony innocent expression on his smug face. 

Touya jerks against the ropes, then glares at the man again. “You know who I’m talking about.”

“Oh, you mean my new pet? She’s in the bedroom, all spread out for me, waiting for me to fuck her pretty little pussy.”

For one brief moment, Touya feels white hot rage fill every inch of his body. He yanks on the ropes so hard, it’s a miracle he doesn’t break his own bones. “Fuck you, you fucking loser! Can’t get a woman to let you fuck her without drugging her, huh?!”

The man laughs. “Before Cupid’s Arrow came along, I was fucking so many women I got bored. I wanted something more.”

“What? You think she loves you?!” Touya yells. 

“To be honest, I don’t care if she actually loves me. All I care about is feeling loved. And she definitely makes me feel loved.”

Touya looks at him with disgust. “You’re fucking sick. Why kill all the others then? Didn’t they make you feel loved?!”

The man’s smile fades. “The problem with Cupid’s Arrow is that it wears off if I don’t keep injecting it. So when I ease them off the drug and they start screaming, well, I don’t feel so loved anymore. But,” he says, his eyes gleaming, “I heard a rumor that certain people, when given the drug long enough, are permanently affected by it. It never wears off even after they stop taking it.”

“So you’re just gonna keep kidnapping and murdering women until you find someone like that?” Touya asks, his patience growing thin. 

The man grins. “Oh, I don’t have to do that anymore. I found her.”

Touya’s eyes widen. “You’re fuckin’ lying.”

“I haven’t given her the drug in three days. It should be out of her system by now, but she’s still completely obsessed with me.”

Touya gives him a murderous stare. “I don’t believe you.”

The man is still grinning. “Why don’t I show you? I’m sure she’s crying by now, thinking I’m neglecting her. She probably doesn’t even remember you at this point, but I’ll let you see her, since I’m such a nice guy.”

He turns his head toward the doorway leading to a short hall. “Sweetheart, come in here! We have a guest!”

Touya’s eyes are glued to the doorway, desperate to see her, to confirm she’s still alive, but terrified to see what’s been done to her. 

She appears like an angel, positively glowing. She’s wearing nothing but frilly pink panties and bra, something she would never choose for herself. Touya grew up with her. Of course he’s seen the plain straps of her sports bra and the occasional glimpse of her striped cotton panties.

As she steps into the room, her eyes fall upon Touya, and she seems to freeze for a moment. Touya sees it, the flicker of recognition in her eyes, the flash of relief to see him again, then the horror she must be feeling to know that he’s going to witness whatever this monster has been doing to her. 

Touya knows, because he researched Cupid’s Arrow extensively after finding out who had taken his girlfriend. He knows that many people reported still being aware of everything while under its influence. That look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know. 

She walks over and sits beside the man on the couch, no longer looking at Touya. “Keigo~” she purrs, “come to bed!”

So his name is Keigo. The sick fucker. He wraps an arm around her. “But I have a guest. Why don’t we put on a little show for him?”

There it is again, a look in her eyes that Touya is sure only he would recognize. Her facial expression is cheery and excited, but her eyes show her true feelings. 

Keigo gives her arm an affectionate squeeze. “Come on, sweetheart. You know what I like when I get home.”

She giggles, and it sounds so different from her normal, genuine laugh that it makes Touya’s stomach churn. Then she slides off the couch and to her knees in front of Keigo. She doesn’t look back at Touya anymore, only focusing on opening Keigo’s pants and pushing her head forward. From this angle, Touya can’t see every detail, but it’s obvious that she’s sucking Keigo off. The wet, slurping sounds fill the room. 

Touya turns his head, unable to watch. 

“Hey,” Keigo says, “she’s working so hard to put on a show for you. It’s rude not to watch!”

“Fuck you!” Touya yells, still not looking. 

Keigo grins. “Maybe later. I have more Cupid’s Arrow on hand.”

Touya feels like gagging. The thought of being forced to be intimate with this asshole disgusts him. Then he remembers that she’s been suffering that exact fate for over a week. 

“If you don’t watch,” Keigo says, “I’ll make her do something gross or painful. If I tell her to, she’ll eat literal shit from the toilet. Or I could make her pluck out one of her own eyes.”

Feeling more enraged than ever, Touya looks at the couple, watching his girlfriend’s head bob on this monster’s cock. His eyes meet Keigo’s. “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you for this.”

Keigo suddenly grips her hair. “Ahh, just a minute Touya, I’m cumming in your girl’s mouth.”

Touya jerks at the ropes again. This time, it feels like the one on his left wrist is a little looser. 

Keigo is patting her head. “Good girl, you didn’t spill a drop.”

She glances back at Touya, and her eyes are wet, but she doesn’t say anything. 

He looks straight at her. “It’s okay, baby. I know you don’t wanna do this. I know this pathetic asshole drugged you. I’ll get you out of here, I promise!”

Keigo stares at him for a moment, his eerie golden eyes sharp. Then he suddenly claps his hands once as if he just had a great idea. “I think I’ll do you both a favor, since I’m in a good mood! Sweetheart, crawl over there and suck Touya’s cock.”

Touya feels like his blood just froze in his veins. “Don’t make her do this!” he shouts. 

She looks at Touya, and though her eyes look mortified, her lips curve up into a smile. “Of course, Keigo. Anything you want!”

She crawls across the floor to Touya, looking him in the eyes. When she reaches him, her hands slide up his thighs and find his belt, unbuckling it and then opening his pants. 

“I’m sorry,” he tells her. “I’m so sorry for what he’s done to you. But it’s almost over.”

She has no reaction to his words, instead reaching into his pants and pulling out his soft cock. “Aww, it’s not hard yet,” she says. 

Touya thinks this situation is just about the least sexy thing he can imagine, but her soft hands wrap around him and begin gently stroking. This is too cruel. Touya has dreamed of being touched this way by her since he was a teenager, and now it happens in the worst way possible for both of them. 

When she begins licking his tip, his cock starts to stiffen. It’s purely a physical reaction to the stimulation of her touch, but it makes him feel ashamed. He doesn’t want her to think this clear violation of her is actually turning him on. 

She takes him into her mouth, her sweet, pillowy lips gliding up and down him, drenching him in her saliva. He can’t help thinking of that day, sitting on her bed, when she kissed him. He’d wanted to go further, and was sure she did as well, but her parents were downstairs and the thought of them walking in was too awkward. 

His idea had been to plan a weekend getaway for just the two of them. Now he wishes he’d just gone for it, because he hates for this to be their first intimate moment together. 

Regardless, his body is responding to her, even though he’s nowhere near in the mood. And after several minutes, he feels his climax approaching. She must feel it too, because her lips clamp around his base as he cums. She sucks him dry, swallowing every drop, then finally pulls away and stands up, walking back over to Keigo. 

“So who’s cum tasted better?” Keigo asks her. 

She sits down beside him and snuggles up to him. “Yours did of course!”

Touya pulls on the rope again, acting as if he’s just blindly jerking on it out of rage, but the left wrist is getting looser. If he can just work it a bit more…

“Oh, but you haven’t been satisfied yet, have you sweetheart?” Keigo asks. 

Touya knows where that question is leading, and feels his heart sink. He has to get his hand free, and fast! 

Keigo grins right at Touya as he tells her, “Why don’t you ride my cock like you usually do?”

*******************************

If you could kill Keigo, you would. But your body doesn’t belong to you. He’s already made you do suck horrifically embarrassing things in front of Touya, you could die of shame. And now he wants more? 

This is the worst possible scenario you could imagine. To have the love of your life watch you do these things with another man is nothing short of a nightmare. Any joy you felt at seeing him again was replaced with terror. Is Keigo going to kill him? 

Your body stands up and faces Keigo, but he turns you around to face Touya. He clearly wants to torment both of you. He slides your panties down and you step out of them. Touya averts his eyes. 

“Now, now, Touya,” Keigo says, “What did I say about you not watching?”

This monster is using threats to force Touya to watch. Your face burns when Touya’s beautiful blue eyes shift back to you. He has an apologetic expression. Somehow he knows you’re aware of everything. He knows you’re still in here. 

With your beloved boyfriend watching, you ease back into Keigo’s lap. You can feel his erection pressing against you. Despite your shame and horror, you rise up slightly and line him up with your entrance, then sink down onto his cock. 

Keigo’s hands are on your thighs, keeping them spread open so Touya can see his cock plunging into your dripping pussy. Touya looks horrified, but under the drug’s influence, you begin riding Keigo, bouncing up and down on his meaty cock, moaning his name as if you love him. 

Your eyes meet Touya’s, and his expression softens. “I love you,” he says. “Nothing this sick fuck does can ever change that!”

Oh, Touya! How you wish you could tell him how you feel! 

Keigo slides one hand up your thigh and uses his fingers to spread your folds, then begins rubbing circles into your clit. Your back arches as you cry out in pleasure.  

“See, Touya?” Keigo asks. “I can please her better than you ever could. She likes having her clit played with, right sweetheart?”

“Yes!” you scream, riding him harder, your traitorous body chasing its climax. You’re so close! You lock eyes with Touya again as you say, “I’m… I’m…!” Your body wants to say you’re cumming, but for just this moment, staring into the eyes of the man you truly love, your heart wins out. 

“I’m sorry, Touya!” 

The words are forced out through your unwilling mouth as tears drip down your face. Touya’s eyes widen. Keigo pulls you off him and shoves you to the floor, clearly alarmed by your tiny spark of free will. Then, all at once, chaos erupts. 

Touya’s hands snap free from behind him and he lunges across the room, dragging the chair still tied to his ankles along with him. He tackles Keigo to the floor and begins punching him with both fists. Keigo tries to block them with his arms but Touya’s unbridled fury overwhelms him, and soon Keigo’s face is a bloody mess. You watch in stunned silence. The drug is telling you to pull Touya off him, to try to help the man you’ve been forced to adore, while your heart is telling you to help Touya mangle him. 

In the end, you do neither, and Keigo eventually stops moving. You know he’s dead before Touya even stops punching him. 

The effect is immediate. Suddenly, you’re so obsessed with Touya that you want him to take you now, right next to Keigo’s bloody corpse. 

Cupid’s Arrow is still in effect, but with Keigo dead, the target of your obsession is the next person you laid eyes on. 

Touya pants for a few moments after killing Keigo, then flops over onto his ass and begins untying the ropes from his ankles. Every little movement he makes is beautiful to you. 

To be honest, it’s not so different from how you viewed him before. 

He quickly crawls over to you and wraps you in his arms. “It’s over, baby, I’ve got you!”

You look up at him with glistening eyes, then wrap your arms around his neck. “Touya! I love you so much!”

He pulls back slightly and looks at you. “It transferred to me, huh? I read about this. It’s okay, we’ll get you to a hospital and they can pump the drug out of your system! You’ll be okay!”

You try to kiss him, but he blocks you. “Touya,” you whine, “I’ve wanted you for so long! Please…”

“I want you too,” he says, “but not when you’re drugged. We’ll have plenty of time together after you’re better.”

You pout as he stands up and helps you to your feet. “Get dressed,” he tells you, and you follow his command as he searches the apartment for his phone, finding it on the kitchen counter and then calling the police. 

The next few weeks are a blur. Keigo’s death is ruled as self defense, and you go through extensive testing and treatments at the hospital. They determine that you’re one of the rare people who are permanently affected by Cupid’s Arrow after having high doses injected for several days. The doctors say there’s a chance you’ll recover someday, and recommend that you stay near Touya for your own mental health, since the two of you already had a long relationship. 

You’re not too bothered by it. Because you love Touya and you know he loves you. 

But Touya is struggling. He finds it difficult to resist your advances, but he doesn’t want to take advantage of you. Even though you’ve tried telling him you really do want to be with him, he’s afraid it’s the drug talking. For weeks, he doesn’t touch you. 

The first couple of times he wakes up to find you sucking his cock, he gently pushes you away. After seeing your distraught reaction however, he begins letting you continue until he cums in your mouth. He always looks at you with a guilty expression afterward, and it breaks your heart. 

It’s two months after your rescue before he finally eats you out, after you spend days spread out on his bed, tearfully begging him to give you release.

Gradually, his resistance crumbles more and more, until he’s fucking you into the mattress every night, his face buried in your shoulder, murmuring, “I’m sorry!” over and over like a mantra. 

You really do want him, but he doesn’t know it, and that uncertainty has him consumed by guilt. He thinks he’s doing the same thing Keigo did to you, and that haunts him, even as he thrusts into you so deeply that you see stars. Your cries of ecstasy might as well be cries of pain to him, and it eats away at his mind. 

Maybe someday the effects of the drug will wear off, and you can tell Touya how much you love him, how much you want him every day. Until then, you can only watch him spiral into self loathing as your body sings with pleasure. 

[hellfirenacht]

C'mon, It's Just One Night (Part 2)

Summary: After getting a fake love note in your locker, you ask Eddie to help you mess up some bullies plans. 

Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, smut later, fem reader, reader wears a dress at one point, mentions of bullying, actual bullying, three-shot

Master List

3.8k Words

Part 1

You and Eddie didn’t talk about the plan again until the night of Homecoming. Most of the chats you had about what was going to happen tonight was about the secret show that Corroded Coffin was going to do right after the dance. 

Honestly, you had heard a few kids quietly whispering about the show, which surprised you. You wondered how many people were interested in the music versus wanting to see the Freak and his band play. After all, Corroded Coffin only really played The Hideout on Tuesdays, which wasn’t exactly the best time slot for high schoolers. 

It was about a half hour before the dance was supposed to start, and you had spent the whole day distracted. You kept reading that stupid note over and over again, and anyone watching you would think that you were just excited about a secret date. The truth was that you hoped that the note would somehow give you any sort of clue about what was planned for you when you made your way into the gym that night. 

You’d convinced the rest of Hellfire to try and gather any information on what was going to happen, but no one came back with any information. Even Lucas, who was a jock, couldn’t get any information from anyone. 

Maybe this would be a Carrie situation. 

Having telekinetic powers could be cool though. 

You stared hard at the brush on your desk that night, trying to make it move with your mind. Nothing happened. 

It might not have moved because as you were glaring at your brush, a knock came at your bedroom door. It was your mom, wanting you to come outside and take photos of you in your outfit. And yeah, you were a little excited to do that after all the work that you had put into looking this nice for a fifteen minute bit. It wouldn’t hurt to have proof that you looked good tonight.

You stood up and smoothed out your dress before walking outside into the front yard as your mom called out that she’d be out there in a second as she grabbed the camera.

You didn’t expect anyone else to be outside, but when you stepped out the door you were greeted with the sight of someone standing on the porch.

It was Eddie.

Eddie Munson. 

His hair was freshly washed and his waves were framing his face perfectly. His leather jacket had been discarded for the night and he was wearing a dark gray button-up shirt that looked almost black with the top two buttons undone. The closest you’d ever seen him wear a button up were a few flannels that he wore in the fall and winter. His jeans looked... they looked new. New and dark blue with no holes in them to be seen. The only pieces of his outfit that you recognized were his rings and his reeboks. The twilight had cast a near purple haze over your neighborhood, and Eddie... Eddie looked good in that fading light. 

“Holy shit.” You said, after staring at him like an idiot for a moment. “Who are you and what have you done with Eddie?”

“Ha Ha.” Eddie fake laughed. “I could say the same about you.” 

You felt your cheeks grow warm, unsure if that was a compliment or not. “I... You look good.” you said more genuinely. 

This caused Eddie to shift slightly on his feet. “You look better.”

You could have died on the spot. 

“Wait, what are you doing here?” you asked. “I thought we were meeting up at the school?” 

“You’re coming to the show with me after this anyway.” Eddie explained. “It’d be easier if I just drove both of us. We can still pretend that we didn’t meet up, I can drop you off at the school where no one will see us together and I’ll follow you inside after a few minutes.”

That made sense, you were going to be helping out with set up after the dance anyway. 

“You might have made a mistake coming out here to pick me up, you know.” you said. “My mom will be out here in about two minutes and if she sees you, she’s going to make us take cheesy photos together.”

“I can humor your mom for a few minutes for this.” Eddie shrugged. “Besides, I owe her for being such a loyal customer.”

You stared at him. “Eddie... what do you mean by that?”

He gave you that trademark shit-eating grin, the one that he often used during club when he knew he was about to royally piss everyone off. 

“How else do you think I was able to buy new jeans?” he asked, his brown eyes shining in the lingering twilight. 

“Eddie Munson, you motherfucker, do not tell me that you sell drugs to my own mother-” 

Speak of your mother, and she shall appear with a smile and a camera in hand. You were going to have a long talk with Eddie later about boundaries and selling weed to your mother, even though you knew it wouldn’t change anything. 

Your mom quickly ushered you to take some solo pictures of you, and Eddie stood behind her watching with amusement as you awkwardly posed in the way you had seen in some teen magazine that you’d browsed when waiting in line at the grocery store. You felt stiff and awkward until Eddie started making faces behind your mom’s back that had you breaking out into a fit of giggles. He was totally going to give you shit for this later, but you knew he’d have his moment in the spotlight in a moment as well. 

Eddie was next up, but somehow he had no problem casually posing and smiling for your mom’s camera. Asshole. 

Then the couple’s pictures came and your mom made it clear exactly how she had wanted you two to pose. Eddie didn’t even hesitate wrapping his arm around your waist and holding your hand. 

For a few moments, you forgot what was supposed to happen that night. In this moment, you could really believe that you were going on a date with your best friend, and that he was holding your hand because he wanted to, not just because he was being forced to because of a favor. Eddie had always been a good actor, and you thought that if he wasn’t such a metal-and-D&D nerd, he could have been great in the theater department. 

Eddie really was a storyteller at heart. In music, in Dungeons and Dragons, in his doodles, the way he played up his Freak persona, and in this moment with his arms settled on your hips and his head on your shoulder. If Eddie wanted to captivate with a story, he could. 

It’s a shame that a story was all this was. 

Once the two of you were finally released from the watchful eye of your moms camera, Eddie led you to his van. He opened the passenger seat door for you, and even helped you into your seat as if he were a real gentleman. You didn’t think anyone had ever done that for you before. 

“So... is there a plan for how we’re going to do this?” you asked. “We haven’t really talked about how this is going to happen.” 

“What time is your secret admirer supposed to show up?” Eddie asked, the sound of his mixtape crackling through the air. 

“7:30.” 

“Then you’ll go in about five minutes early, stand in the middle of the gym, and at 7:30 I’ll burst in, sweep you off your feet, and then we can blow this joint.” Eddie said. 

“I could use a joint.” you sighed, looking out the window as reality came back. You weren’t a princess, and this wasn’t a fairytale. Eddie was only doing this as a favor, nothing more. 

“I’ll let you have one after we set up for the show.” He promised, pulling his van up to behind the school where no one was going to be dropped off for the dance. “I’ll see you inside in five minutes.” 

You gave him a nod. “See you on the other side, Freak.” 

You slipped to the entrance of the gym, and walked towards the booth where you presented your homecoming ticket. Homecoming had started at 7 pm on the dot and most students were already inside, dancing and giggling and having fun. The sound of the latest pop songs were echoing through the halls outside of the gym. The cheerleader running the ticket booth looked you up and down with a giggle.

“I love your outfit! It’s so... unique!” she gave you a smile that was way too wide and you grit your teeth at the false compliment. You shoved that anger down into your gut, and gave your best fake smile back, hoping that you sounded more sincere. 

“Thank you, so much!” Your voice came out a bit higher pitched than anticipated, but the cheerleader didn’t seem to notice. 

“Your Secret Admirer is going to love it.” She continued, and you felt your stomach twist. Shit, the cheerleaders were in on this too? You wondered how many people were in on this. “He asked me to give you this when you got here.”

She handed you a note, in the same sloppy handwriting as before. 

Meet me in the center of the dance floor at 7:30. 

It was 7:26 right now. You were tempted to make the assholes wait, after all, you wanted to make sure Eddie had a chance to get here before they could. But the cheerleader obviously saw you read the note, and there was no time to turn back. 

Just show up for me. Eddie. You thought to yourself. Although this had been your idea, you were feeling nervous now. You really were about to put yourself out on full display to the school, willingly offering yourself up on a plate to your peers for humiliation. What if this didn’t work? What if Eddie didn’t make it in time? What if something worse happened with Eddie here? 

The short walk from the entrance to the middle of the dance floor felt like slow motion. Your mind felt fuzzy and you hoped that you weren’t shaking from nerves. You stood in the center of the dance floor, and turned to face the single clock in the back of the gym. You could barely make out the time with the distance and dim lights, but you knew it was almost time. 

7:27

7:28

You could do this

7:29

Almost time....

7:30

7:31

Where the fuck was Eddie?

7:32

Did he get held up?

7:33

Did he change his mind?

7:34

Fuck, you could hear the giggling.

7:35

You felt a tap on your shoulder. 

This was it. 

You turned around slowly, waiting for the worst. 

Eddie stood before you, corsage in hand, on one knee as if he was proposing to you. 

Maybe this was the real prank. Maybe the real prank was the one you played on yourself to be able to see your best friend kneeling and smiling up at you, offering you a corsage. 

Time froze for a second as you took in the sight and committed it to memory. 

“I’m glad you made it.” Eddie said, loud enough for anyone to hear. He really did have that natural projection that should have had the theater kids begging him to join them. “I knew you’d respond to my note.”

There was a dull murmur of confusion behind you, and you saw Eddie’s eyes flicker to something that you couldn’t see and he gave you a small nod. 

Fuck, that was your cue. 

You brought your hands up to your mouth, acting like all of the actresses you’d seen on tv who’s characters had been proposed to. You began nodding and accepted the corsage, letting him slide it onto your wrist. 

How had he known what color to get to match your dress? 

Eddie stood up and you threw your arms around him. “I was hoping it was you!” you said loudly, no need to act for this part. Eddie wrapped his arms around your waist and picked you up and spun you around once. He really was deceptively strong, and you giggled as he set you down. Your lips met his cheek. His arms stayed around you. 

Eddie smiled at you in a way that made your cheeks heat up and your knees feel weak. 

You two were staring at each other. 

The music changed. 

Eddie moved one of his hands from around your waist to grab yours, and the two of you were slow dancing before you even fully knew what was happening. 

“Eddie, what are you doing?” You asked, following his movements. 

“You said you wanted to really sell this that we were together now.” Eddie said, keeping his eyes on you. “I don’t know how many people would believe it if I showed up and we immediately left. It wouldn’t exactly be memorable.” 

“Right, good point.” you agreed. 

“I always have good points, that’s why I’m the dungeon master.” Eddie chuckled, “Besides, it’d be a shame that you put in this much effort to look good for little old me to not show you off. What kind of boyfriend would I be? I have to make sure that I get a reputation for being a mean and scary freak, but also a decent date.”

Boyfriend. 

“Shit.” you said quietly. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, brows furrowing with a frown. 

“I didn’t think about what happens after this. You agreed to be my fake date, but I don’t want you to feel trapped with me after this.” you said. “Yeah, this’ll get everyone off my back for now but when school starts again, I don’t want you to feel like you have to act like we’re together.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Eddie said. “It’s not like my dating life is thriving here anyway. Between you and me, I’m a little too old for those who dare try and get with the Freak here.”

You let out a small laugh. “Tired of one night stands with girls who just want bragging rights?” 

“After the third time, I was starting to feel like I was cheating on my right hand.”

You pressed your forehead against his shoulder, erupting into a fit of giggles. This felt right, this relaxed moment with Eddie. This is how it was supposed to feel with someone, right? It was supposed to be easy, and with Eddie it always was. 

“Thank you, Eddie.” you said after your giggles had died down. “I really owe you one.”

“I thought this plan was me owing you one.” Eddie asked. 

“This is honestly above and beyond helping you get a passing grade for a test.” you admitted. “I know you have your show tonight, and you hate doing anything for school. Plus, you showed up wearing this and you spent money on jeans and the corsage- oh, thank you for the corsage-”

“Hey,” Eddie snapped you out of your rambling. “Don’t act like you forced me to do anything. You said I had full creative control tonight. I chose to do all this for you.”

“Why?” you asked, meeting his eyes. “You could have so easily told me to just fuck off and said no.”

“I’ll admit this wasn’t exactly my idea of how this night was going to go.” Eddie said. “But then you said that you wanted the Freak to show up for you. I wanted to know what would happen if it was just Eddie.” 

“Just Eddie...” you said quietly. Not the Freak, not the satanic cult leader, not the dungeon master. Just Eddie, your friend. “I’m glad that just Eddie was the one to show up.” your mouth went dry. “I- ...Eddie I-”

The two of you had stopped moving in slow circles, Eddie was closer than he had ever been to you before. You forgot where you were and Eddie was leaning closer to you, his mouth opening as if he was going to say something. 

And that’s when it happened. 

Whatever it was, it was room temperature, and sticky. It dripped down from your hair, down your face and onto your dress. You looked down to see pools of red flooding below you on the gym floor, and then your head shot up to see Eddie, covered in the same sticky substance with a dumbstruck look on his face. 

Blood? Was that actually blood?! Was Eddie bleeding? Were you? Wait, had someone actually dumped pigs blood on you?

Eddie wiped his face, smearing the substance on his skin and hand and carefully brought it to his face and sniffed it, and then gave it a small lick.

“Corn syrup.” he said and looked at you, his eyes wide in shock. 

“You mean this was a Carrie situation?!” you asked in a loud whisper as the two of you stared at each other. You looked around, and saw the group of jocks laughing and high fiving each other. One of them was holding an old paint bucket. Your body froze, and you couldn’t believe that this was actually happening. Those assholes had thrown fake blood on you and Eddie. They won. You fucked up. Eddie did so much for you tonight and you never even considered that the jocks would be smart enough to adjust their plans to account for Eddie being here-

Then Eddie started laughing, like really laughing. It was that genuine laugh that you’d heard a hundred times when the party came up with a stupid plan to get past one of Eddie’s challenges in Hellfire. 

He looked at you, with a spark in his eyes and a grin that was manic. 

His laughter was so contagious, that you found yourself laughing as well. You heard the laughter from the jocks start to die down and turn into mutters of confusion. The whole gym seemed to go silent, and you think the DJ stopped the music but you were laughing too much to care. 

How fucking rediculous was this? It was almost too obvious what they had set up, but you didn’t think they were this unoriginal. How did they even sneak in the bucket? How did no faculty or staff react to this?!

“I guess the Freak is showing up, anyway.” Eddie laughed and looked at you. “Let’s give them the show they want.”

Eddie’s hand wrapped around the back of your neck and started pulling you in. Instinct took over and you gripped at his stained shirt and then your lips met. The kiss was met with gasps and oohs and shouts from around you, but you didn’t care. Eddie was kissing you, and you were kissing him back. The two of you must have looked like a spectacle, covered in fake blood and making out with him in the middle of the dance floor after laughing like maniacs.

“Stop that, right now you two!” you heard a teacher yell, and that’s when Eddie pulled back.

“Feel free to kill me for that later, okay?” That wild smile was still on his face. 

“I think we should run now.” you agreed, deciding that whatever had just happened within the last 30 seconds could be processed later. You could see a few teachers starting to finally take action and start to run over, and the jocks were now scattering. Even though you and Eddie were the victims here, you didn’t really feel like sticking around. Whatever would happen with the school, could wait until Monday.

Eddie grabbed your hand, flipped off the few jocks that were still gawking, and the two of you took off running through the exit doors of the gym, the two of you laughing and cackling like mad. 

“Fake blood!” you yelled as the two of you dashed across the parking lot. “They threw fake blood on us!” 

“They actually spent money to get that much corn syrup and dye!” Eddie laughed, opening the door to his van for you again. 

“Shit, it’s gonna get all over your van.” you said, taking your seat anyway and buckling up. 

“That’s the least worrying thing I’ve spilled in here. Don’t worry about it.” He said, hopping into the driver side seat. “Jesus Christ, I didn’t think they had it in them!”

“Eddie, they ruined your new clothes.” You frowned, looking at him. The fake blood was starting to dry to your skin, and you could see it starting to give Eddie’s hair an odd texture in certain areas. 

“They also ruined your dress.” 

“Yeah, but I was never going to wear this again.” you said. 

“And I was going to ruin these clothes anyway.” he shrugged and started the car, peeling out of the parking lot like a bat out of Hell. Eddie’s lead foot hit the gas and the two of you were speeding down the road, out of town towards the quarry. 

“Holy shit.” you said, leaning against the seat as the adrenaline faded. 

“I think that could’ve gone worse.” Eddie said, still smiling. “I think the blood really adds to Corroded Coffin’s whole thing.” 

You shook your head, grabbing some napkins from the floor and wiping your hands off. “Shit, do we owe them a thanks now? Should we send them a fruit basket?” 

“Nah, they’ll get what they deserve. A slap on the wrist for pulling this stunt at a school function.” Eddie glanced at you with a wry grin. 

“Right, why do I feel like they’ll get off easy but somehow we’re gonna be the ones in trouble on Monday?” You rolled your eyes and lowered your voice in a horrible imitation of Principal Higgins. “Yes, those two played a harmless prank by dumping corn syrup on you, but you two displayed unsightly behavior in front of everyone in some sort of Hellish ritual-”

“Ouch. I didn’t think I was that bad of a kisser.” 

You stopped talking and suddenly the corn syrup felt sticky and uncomfortable. You still hadn’t been able to digest the fact that the two of you had kissed- no, you two had full on made-out in front of the whole student body. Had there been tongue? You honestly couldn’t remember. 

An awkward silence settled over the two of you and you were unsure of what to say. You wanted to tell him that no, he wasn’t a bad kisser at all. You wanted to be smooth and say something like “Well, I wasn’t really paying attention before, how about we try again?”. You wanted to say anything to indicate that you liked it and very much wanted to do it again. 

Instead the two of you sat in the loudest silence you had ever been in as the two of you drove the long strip down to the quarry. You scolded yourself, thinking that saying anything had to be better than saying nothing. 

And yet no words came out.

This was supposed to be a one shot in April. Now it's a three-shot. Do NOT let me write more than three chapters. The third chapter is almost done. There will be smut.

Divider by @strangergraphics

Tag List: @supernaturalstilinski @wonderlanddreamer @princesssunderworld @kores-mun-son-n-more @munsonfiles

@ladysilence @ghcstpyre @avalon-wolf @huffledor-able541 @sheneedsrocknroll92

@i-trash-about-things

[naughtyneganjdm]

Neighbors

Summary: After moving next door to Negan and Lucille Smith you find yourself incredibly drawn to both of them with their flirtatious behavior. One night they invite you over to a dinner at their house and it sets things in motion for you to start a sexual relationship with the both of them.

Characters: Negan, Lucille & the reader (OC, second person)

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53568841

Warnings: 18+, Swearing, Smut, Little To No Plot, Threesome - F/F/M, Voyeurism, Daddy Kink, Mommy Kink, Pet Names, Unprotected P in V, Oral, Two Women Together, Overstimulation, etc.

Notes: This is a very naughty one shot. It's long. But yeah. Y/N can be your name, or whatever name you choose. Enjoy. If two girls aren't your thing you can just skip over most of their stuff btw. Since I know some people are sensitive.

Moving into a new home was a pretty big deal and you were ecstatic to be doing it, but as you sat on the steps to your back deck you were starting to wonder if you were acting inappropriately. The neighbors right next door had caught your attention. It was a married couple that had been very welcoming from the start. On your first day, they were the first to offer to help you unpack and you were instantly charmed by them. Negan and Lucille Smith. You were nervous at first about moving because you had always heard horror stories about new neighbors, but pretty quickly they made you feel comfortable.

Negan helped you move in most of the bigger things and Lucille had made you a really nice dessert. There was just one thing about the two of them that you noticed almost immediately. They were both flirty. Very flirty. And you didn’t know if that was purposeful or if they were just those kind of people who were extremely charming, but you found yourself swooning over the both of them right away.

There was Negan with his wickedly charming smile, chiseled jawline and gorgeous dimples. And there was Lucille whose smile was breath taking and had a set of the prettiest green eyes you had ever seen. Both of them were touchy, complimentary and very friendly. It was something that you weren’t used to, but pretty quickly you found yourself attached to both of them. It wasn’t like they were making it hard for you to feel that way either.

Tonight they had invited you to a get together at their home and they didn’t let you refuse. Then again, you really didn’t want to deny them. Especially with how good both of them made you feel when you were around them.

“Howdy neighbor,” a deep raspy voiced called out, catching your attention and making you look next door. In the distance you could see that Negan was heading out into his backyard. Just the sound of his so very familiar voice caused your heart to skip a beat. Standing slowly from where you were seated, you could see that Negan was pulling a cigarette out, depositing it between his lips. Starting to pat at his pockets, you could tell that he was searching for a lighter as you made your way into your yard. Stepping before him, you pulled your lighter out to help him. Flashing you one of his captivating smiles took your breath away. Negan bent down allowing you to light his cigarette, letting out a slow rumble of a sound when he raised up and gave you a wink. “Thank you, darlin’.”

“It’s nothing,” you waved your hand in the air dismissively, pushing the lighter into your back pocket. A hiss fell from Negan’s parted lips when he exhaled a large amount of smoke. After, he pulled it from his lips and offered it to you. “I shouldn’t.”

“Are you gonna get grounded?” Negan mocked you, an amused rumble falling from his throat when you accepted the cigarette from him. A proud sound escaped his lips when you shared his cigarette with him. “Thatta girl. With lips like those, you shouldn’t be afraid to put something between them every now and then. “

Coughing, you pulled the cigarette from your lips, noticing the wicked smirk that expanded over his features, “Jesus.”

“What?” Negan feigned innocence, accepting his cigarette back from you. “Don’t be a pervert. I was being innocent.”

“Sure you were,” you placed your hand in over the center of your chest hearing Negan snicker before bringing the cigarette back up to his lips. “Are you ready for your get together tonight?”

“Do I look ready?” Negan’s eyebrow arched and he looked down to gaze over the sweats that he was wearing. When he lifted his stare again, he could see that you had taken the time to look him over too. “A nice dinner and I’m dressed like this?”

“I think you look nice in sweatpants,” you blurt out and suddenly you felt a heat rushing into your cheeks with the way that it made Negan’s eyebrows bounce up. This is what you meant with becoming inappropriate. Instead of considering what you were saying, you were just saying what you were thinking and you couldn’t even believe the things coming out of your mouth. The thing was, in his gray sweatpants it didn’t leave much to imagination.

“You like that?” Negan smirked, exhaling a large amount of smoke away from you so it didn’t blow into your face with a mischievous smirk tugging at his features. Originally you were embarrassed that you said what you did, but he was playing back with you, so what was the point in feeling bad about it?

“Looks thick,” you dropped your stare down again, tipping your head down to steal another lingering gaze and a rumble of amusement fell from his throat. Raising your stare, your eyes locked with his and he looked enamored with your response.

“It is. I’m kind of a big guy. You should see it when it’s hard,” Negan slurred, stepping closer toward you closing the distance between the two of you. It drew a chill down your spine with the lack of personal space. “If you like the way it looks in my sweats now, you would really enjoy how big it gets when it’s erect.”

“I can only imagine,” you whispered with the warmth of Negan’s breath over your lips. That’s how close he was. “Your wife is a lucky girl.”

“I’d like to think so,” Negan muttered, his hazel eyes gazing over your lips. Just having him looking at you like that had goosebumps developing over your arms. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t incredibly attracted to this man.

“Daddy,” Lucille’s voice called out from the back door drawing Negan to smirk. Looking back over his shoulder, Negan’s eyebrows bounced up and he offered up one of his enchanting smiles. “It’s time to get to work on dinner.”

“Yes mama,” Negan took a step back, finishing up his cigarette before giving you a wink. “We’ll see you tonight Y/N. Duty calls.”

A tremoring breath escaped your parted lips when Negan made his way back up to his house. It felt like the world was spinning around you with how hot that interaction alone made you. The two of you were just fucking around with your words and it had your flesh on fire.

“You okay?” Lucille’s voice called out, finally breaking you from your moment. Lifting your head, you felt a sense of guilt with the way that Lucille’s green eyes were locked on you. With a nod, you tried to gather yourself knowing that it was wrong to be flirting with a married man like you were. Especially with how much you liked both Lucille and Negan. “We’re looking forward to having you over later.”

“I have to get ready,” you announced, pointing back toward your house knowing right now you absolutely needed that shower to cool down after your interaction with Negan. Lucille gave you a wink and then turned on her heel to head back into the house. You had to get ready for the get together they asked you to and you had to find a way to chill the fuck out in front of both of them. They were married for heaven’s sake.

So that’s what you did. You took an extraordinarily long shower and got ready to go to their house. It was hard picking something out to wear because they really didn’t express how you should be dressing. You went through plenty of outfits before settling in on a black dress. Maybe it was a bit much for a get together at your neighbor’s, but you liked the way you looked. The material clung to your breasts drawing attention to them and the bottom of the dress came down to about mid-thigh. This was Lucille and Negan. You wanted to at least make a good impression on them.

When it was time, you headed over to their home with the bottle of alcohol that you were planning to bring as a gift, surprised to see that only Negan’s motorcycle and their Mustang was parked out front. Were you early? Heading up the steps to their home, you knocked on the door and let out a shuddering breath as Lucille opened the door. Standing before you, she was in a red dress where the neckline dipped incredibly low drawing attention to her breasts.

“Wow,” you felt your heart skip a beat at the sight of her. Most of the time Lucille was gorgeous, but she just wore whatever made her comfortable. Now, she looked like she had just walked off the cover of a magazine with how stunning she looked and it took your breath away. “You look amazing.”

“Look who’s talking,” Lucille clung tightly to the door after she held it open for you and you stepped into the home. In the distance you could see that Negan was standing in the corner attempting to put some music on. He was wearing a pair of black slacks with a black button down with only the buttons done up until about his mid abdomen revealing the dark curls of hair over his chest. Both of them looked incredible tonight and you didn’t know how you were going to make it through the night. “You look beautiful.”

Stealing a look back over his shoulder, a wolfish smile tugged at Negan’s handsome lips when he gazed between both you and Lucille. Placing his hand over the center of his chest, he dramatically leaned back and stomped his foot, “Be still my fucking heart. You both are trying to kill me tonight with the way you look.”

Once Lucille closed the door, you heard Negan start the music. In the living room was a table set up with three seats. Candles were lit at the center of it and only three places were set out, “Did I get here early?”

“What do you mean?” Negan stepped forward, his arm hooking around Lucille’s shoulders loosely. You could smell what you assumed was their dinner cooking in the kitchen and it smelled amazing.

“I thought you were having a party,” you clung to the bottle of alcohol in your hand hearing the amused sound that escaped Negan’s throat.

“Did I word it weird?” Lucille wondered, her hand pressing in over the center of Negan’s chest. Lucille’s fingers stroked through the dark hair that covered Negan’s chest as he hummed out at the sensation. “I was just inviting you over for dinner so the three of us could get to know each other a little bit better.”

“Oh,” you felt your face getting hot. Well, if you knew that maybe you wouldn’t have dressed like this, but you didn’t feel so bad considering both Negan and Lucille had dressed up as well. Lifting the bottle of alcohol, you held it out for them to look over. “I brought this since you were so kind to invite me.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Negan accepted the bottle, taking a look at what you had brought and he let out an impressed exhale at the expensive brand you had gifted them. “But I will happily accept this. We can get this started off tonight. I’ll go grab some glasses. Dinner should be done soon.”

“Negan,” Lucille gasped when Negan smacked her ass when he left them to head back toward the kitchen with the bottle of alcohol you gave him. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for. The two of you like each other very much. That’s something to admire,” you waved your hand in the air dismissively. Every time you had seen Negan and Lucille together, they were always kissing or being touchy in some fashion. “It’s nice to see.”

“We try,” Lucille stated with a wink, her hand dragging down over your arm before her fingers curled around your wrist to lead you over toward the table. “Hopefully you like what we prepared tonight. Negan has really gotten into cooking lately and he’s really proud of his food. If he gets tired of coaching, I think he has a chance at being a chef if he ever wanted to put in the effort.”

Lucille helped you into your seat and you felt her hands settling in over your shoulders. Faintly she squeezed at your flesh, an extended breath escaping your parted lips when Lucille’s hands slid further down with her fingertips teasing over your collarbone.

“I just enjoy cooking for the people I actually like,” Negan announced making his way out of the kitchen to set down three glasses on the table. Popping open the bottle, Negan poured some of the alcohol out into the glasses for all three of you. Grabbing a glass for himself, Negan tossed back the drink and hummed when he swallowed it down. “Fuck…that’s good.”

Negan got himself another drink, but the sound of a timer going off was heard and he held his finger up in the air motioning you both to wait. Heading back to the kitchen with his glass had Lucille taking a seat at the table feeling a warmth surrounding you.

“Are you enjoying the new house?” Lucille questioned you, her hand stretching out to place in over yours to draw your attention to her. With her leaning forward, it had the material of her dress dipping down further making your throat go dry. God, you were trying so hard not to ogle the Smiths, but they were making it so hard for you.

“Yeah. It’s really nice,” you stammered through your words, enjoying the way that Lucille’s fingertips stroked at the back of your hand. “I was really nervous about moving since you hear all of those horror stories about people moving and having horrible neighbors, but everyone has been really nice.”

“People mostly stick to themselves around here,” Negan announced walking back into the kitchen holding two plates in his hands. Lowering down the first plate in front of you took your breath away. It looked like you were dining at a five-star restaurant with how good the food actually looked on the plate. Negan lowered the next plate in front of Lucille and leaned back. “We enjoy having you as our neighbor so much more than our last.”

“Were they bad?” you inquired feeling Negan’s fingertips drag across your shoulder as he walked by to head back to the kitchen to undoubtedly get his plate.

“It was just a really old man that was grumpy,” Lucille answered for Negan with a half laugh. “And he didn’t like Negan that much. He always had a problem with whatever Negan was doing. I think his family moved him into their home, so it’s been nice having someone like you living next to us instead of someone who always wanted to fight about something because they were bored.”

“So in comparison, you’re a fucking angel,” Negan returned back to the table with his drink and his plate of food. Carefully lowering down into his seat that was across from you, Negan’s smirk had a lump developing in your throat.

“This looks amazing Negan,” you commented and it had him giving his head a small bob happy to have you complimenting his food. It was even better when you took the first bite. When you met Negan the first time, you would have never pictured him being this good of a cook. Throughout dinner, the three of you had small talk and it was just nice being able to talk with them in a relaxed setting. Long after dinner was done, the three of you were still sitting at the table laughing and talking about life and you were all drinking. A lot. Lucille had moved her chair closer to Negan and you admired the way she stroked her fingers at the back of his neck while all of you talked. There was no doubting that the two of them were close. When Negan went to get up to do the dishes, you started to get up to help him, but his large hands pressed in over your shoulders to get you to lower down. “You cooked that amazing meal for me Negan, the least I can do is help you clean up.”

“You’re a guest in this house,” Negan responded, his lips incredibly close to your ear drawing you to close your eyes tightly. With the warmth of Negan’s breath over the side of your neck, you felt chills flooding your veins. “I can take care of it.”

Parting your lips, you swore you felt Negan kiss faintly at the side of your neck before pulling back to gather everything to clean up. When your eyes opened, you felt your heart racing when you noticed that Lucille was staring out at you with a smirk. Giving you a wink, she stood up from the table to help Negan and you felt like the room was spinning around you. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you were starting to feel heated in their home.

“Maybe I should get going,” you suggested, standing up from the table smoothing your dress out. Heading toward the kitchen, you watched the two of them cleaning up and Negan shook his head. “I don’t want to keep you all night.”

“It’s Friday. I think you are allowed some down time, don’t you?” Negan reasoned with you, nodding off toward the bottles of alcohol that he had on the counter. “I still haven’t made you some of my best drinks that I’m capable of. I’m a gin man and I can get something really amazing together for you. Come on. It’s not a school night.”

“Seriously. Just let us finish cleaning up. We’ll put some different music on. Sit down. Have some drinks. Really get to know one another,” Lucille stepped forward, grabbing a hold of your hands to give them a small wiggle. “Come on, what do you say?”

“I’m almost done” Negan had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up his arms while he finished with the dishes, flashing you a big smile. “Come on. Don’t disappoint me. Just stay for a while longer. It’s the weekend. At least enjoy yourself. You’ve been working so hard to get moved in, when is the last time you got to have a decent night to relax?”

“Yeah, okay,” you agreed to stay with them feeling your throat tensing at the idea of how eager they were to keep you there.

“Just go sit down on the couch and we will be right out,” Negan urged you with a half-smile and you listened.

After you sat you could hear them whispering together about something, but when Lucille returned, she was carrying two drinks, “Negan put these together. I think you’re really going to like them.”

Accepting your drink, you let out a surprised sound on the first sip with how much alcohol was in it. It tasted good, but there was no doubt a lot of gin in it, “Wow.”

“He makes them strong,” Lucille noted with a tiny smile, taking a long sip herself before getting comfortable on the couch beside you. You were talking about your job with Lucille by the time that Negan returned to the living room with his drink.

Negan was lighting something up when he moved in beside you and you choked realizing what it was, “Is that weed?”

“I’m starting to think you’re a bit of a goody two shoes and here I was thinking you were a naughty girl,” Negan snickered, pulling the joint from his lips and holding in the smoke before exhaling. A laugh fell from his throat when he held it out to Lucille who accepted it from him. The way that Negan was looking at you made you breathless when he slid in closer to you. “I just thought you would want to have a little fun and relax.”

“I just didn’t expect you to pull out weed,” you responded, finishing off the drink that Negan had made for you. Taking the glass from you, Negan set it down on the coffee table beside his drink and his eyes were locked on yours. After she took a hit from it, Lucille held it out to you. “I’m not a goody two shoes. I was just trying to leave a positive impression with both of you.”

Grabbing the joint, you placed it between your lips and watched Negan smirk when you inhaled sharply after pulling it away, “Thatta girl.”

Taking it from you, Negan put it back between his lips and smiled, “So, what’s your dating life like?”

“I’m sorry?” you breathed out when you exhaled, noticing that both Lucille and Negan were sitting incredibly close to you. “I’m not dating anyone.”

“By choice? Because you’re hot,” Lucille’s fingers stroked at your arm and it kickstarted your heart in your chest.

“Things just haven’t worked out. I did just move out of state you know,” you declared, letting out a tense breath when Negan wrapped his arm around the back of the couch behind you. It revealed more of his chest to your sight and you cleared your throat uneasily. “I’m okay with that though.”

“Daddy,” Lucille held her hand out and Negan handed the joint over to her. An uneasy breath fell from your throat with Lucille reaching out to lace her fingers into Negan’s hair. Tugging him forward had them right before you when Lucille demanded a kiss from Negan. A hum escaped him with his tongue brushing out against hers and you felt incredibly hot being between them while they kissed. When they parted you were probably breathing louder than you should have been.

“Wow,” you stammered eyeing over Negan when he licked over his lips. “You make good food. You have good alcohol and weed. What other surprises do you two have?”

“Well that’s for you to learn throughout the night,” Lucille explained, handing you over the joint and her green eyes were locked on yours. “Do we make you uncomfortable?”

“Honestly?” you felt a breath hitching in your throat with the sensation of Negan’s nose nuzzling in against the side of your neck. Involuntarily, your head tipped to the side when Negan started peppering wet kisses over your flesh. Lucille lifted her hand to drag her finger across your bottom lip. “Yes.”

“Uncomfortable in a bad way or a good?” Negan growled against your flesh, nipping at your jawline when Lucille pressed in closer to you. God, they both smelled so good between his cologne and her perfume.

Before you had time to answer, Lucille’s lips covered yours pulling you closer to her. At first, she just seemed to be testing the water to see if you would be okay with kissing her. When you didn’t fight her on it, the kiss grew in strength and when she pulled away, your lips parted. It felt like the room was spinning around you. It could have been your body reacting to them or a mix of that with the alcohol along with the weed, but it felt nice. Negan’s fingers pressed in over the side of your face urging you to him. Capturing your lips with his had you falling in closer to him. Fuck, they were both good at kissing. When Negan pulled back, his eyes were hooked on yours trying to read your reaction to everything.

“Good,” you finally answered hearing Negan’s amused laughter before he reached up to cup your face in his hands. Allowing him to pull you to him, you kissed him over and over again, enjoying the way it felt with Lucille’s lips pressing kisses over your shoulder. The taste of alcohol still lingered over Negan’s tongue when it flicked out against yours. It had a warmth developing at your core with your right hand sliding back to caress over Lucille’s inner thigh. A tug at your jaw had Lucille pulling you back to kiss her and it was obviously so vastly different from kissing Negan, but you liked it. The contrast between the both of them felt fantastic.

“I’ll be right back,” Lucille announced, pulling away from your kiss with a smile before getting up from the couch.

“I think we could use something a little more upbeat,” Negan got up from the couch to turn on a different song that was something you felt was a bit sexier. Extending his hand out to yours had you smiling. Taking his hand, you laughed when he pulled you in closer to him. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I have no idea what is going on right now, but I can’t complain” you were honest pressing your hands in over the center of Negan’s chest with his large hands grasping to your hips. Together the two of you danced to the music, your pulse jumping with how close Negan was to you. “Are you bad at anything?”

“No,” Negan snickered, his bottom lip dragging across yours with how close he was to you. “I’m just naturally gifted at everything. Play your cards right and you will discover just how true that is.”

“What is this?” you finally asked gasping when Negan spun you to face away from him. With his groin pressing up against your bottom, you felt his hand settling at your lower abdomen drawing you to move your hips a certain way to dance with him. There was a fire burning deep inside of you with the way he was pressing up against you, allowing you to feel the solidness of his masculinity pressed against your bottom.

“Do you always need the answers to everything?” Negan slurred against your flesh with him kissing over your jawline again.

You were doing your best to follow suit with the movement Negan was doing with you while the two of you danced, but it was beginning to get incredibly sexual. Your face was hot. Hell, your whole body was. But you wondered if this was something you were actually experiencing or your brain was exaggerating the details of what was truly happening. With all the alcohol you drank and from smoking the weed, you could have been experiencing what you wanted to be instead of what was genuinely happening. But this felt real. Very real.

Hooking your arm back, you wrapped it around Negan’s neck when you felt his hand lowering between your thighs. A moan fell from your throat when he caressed over your body in confident movements. Kissing down over the side of your neck had a heat flooding throughout your body. Fuck, this was hot. Just having the stubble from his short beard teasing against your flesh had your nipples getting hard beneath the material of your dress.

In the midst of his touches, you had closed your eyes, sucking down on your bottom lip with just how good he was making you feel. It was when you opened your eyes that you noticed your vision was slightly blurred. The adrenaline could have been kicked up in your body in that moment, but you were starting to think it was more so the effects of the alcohol.

Fuck, why did it have to start up now of all times? You didn’t want this moment to end, but you knew it felt like you were going to pass out.

“I…I think I need to sit,” you informed him as Lucille was returning to them. It had you falling into Lucille’s arms who caught you with ease. “I might have drank too much.”

“I got you,” Lucille led you toward the couch allowing you to lean back against it. Observing you, Lucille made sure you were okay with her fingers tracing down over the side of your face in a tender sweep. “Are you okay?”

“I think so,” you waved your hand about in the air. The sad thing? You were honest. It wasn’t bullshit. The last thing you wanted to do was stop dancing with Negan but all of the alcohol had the room spinning for you.

At some point you must have passed out because by the time you came to fully, the room was dark except for a light that was illuminating from the kitchen. It took a minute before you were able to pull yourself up into a seated position and you wondered how long you had been passed out. Of course you fucking passed out when things were just starting to heat up with Lucille and Negan.

The sound of muted moans were heard causing you to look toward the kitchen. Getting up, you were quiet in the way you moved stepping just to the side to hide yourself when you finally saw what you heard. Negan had Lucille laid back against the table in the kitchen with the bottom of her dress pressed up to her mid abdomen. His head was buried between her thighs, the wet sounds of him pleasuring her flooding the kitchen along with her moans. Lucille’s fingers were tangled in Negan’s hair with her chest rising and falling heavily.

This was a personal moment between the two of them and you should have just left or gone back to lay down, but you couldn’t help yourself from watching. With the sounds that Lucille was making, you could only picture how good it must have felt. There was an ache between your thighs and you were impressed with how fast it turned you on.

“Negan,” Lucille panted, her fingers tugging at Negan’s hair getting him to pull back, licking over his lips when he looked up at her. “Please…”

“Yes mama?” Negan pressed a few kisses over her thighs before getting up to lay in over Lucille. His fingers hooked into the straps of her dress to tug the material down revealing her breasts to him. Covering Lucille’s breast with his mouth, Negan kissed over her breast in long, drawn out motions with his hips bucking up toward Lucille.

Biting down on your bottom lip, you were doing your best to stay quiet when you felt a warmth pooling at your core. From where you were, you could see that Negan’s shirt was fully opened and you had no idea where to look first. Between Negan and Lucille, you were overwhelmed with how beautiful both of them were.

Gradually, Negan’s kisses rose up over Lucille’s chest, toward her neck and over her jawline with her hands reaching down between them. Eagerly, Lucille pulled apart the belt in Negan’s pants with their mouths colliding together. Both of them were incredibly dominant in the way that they kissed. Pushing into Negan’s chest had him stumbling back with an amused sound. Lucille lifted up on the kitchen table and dragged her fingers down over the length of Negan’s long torso. Tugging open the material of Negan’s pants, Lucille reached her hand inside and you let out a small sound of awe when she pulled Negan’s solid erection from his pants. Negan wasn’t kidding. He was big.

Stroking her hand over Negan’s length, Lucille kept kissing Negan with his moans growing louder. Dropping her head, Lucille took Negan between her parted lips having Negan’s fingers sinking into her hair while she pleasure him. God, watching the two of them together had you hotter than you could have ever imagined. There should have been some kind of jealousy going on there, but there wasn’t. You were enjoying watching them. Negan’s long eyelashes fluttered to a close, the muscle at the corner of his jaw flexing with Lucille’s head bobbing over his length. Even the moans that fell from Negan’s throat were incredibly sexy.

“Fuck,” Negan hissed, pulling back on Lucille’s blonde hair. Lowering her down on top of the kitchen table, Negan pressed his hand in over Lucille’s throat to keep her down. Pulling her right to the edge of the kitchen table, Negan reached between them to grab a hold of his erection. Tracing the tip of his cock over Lucille’s body had her purring out, her hips arching up toward Negan. With a wet sound, Negan entered Lucille having her back arching up on the table, her hands wrapping around Negan’s wrists when they found their way to her slender hips. “Fucking hell mama.”

“Daddy,” Lucille tugged at the material of Negan’s shirt to get him to lay over her and meet her in a passionate kiss. Slowly, Negan started to thrust into Lucille shaking the table with his movements. Lifting your left hand, you covered your lips to stay silent. With every thrust, Lucille’s cries started to grow louder and you felt an ache in your body.

Watching the two of them fucking had you desperately wanting to touch yourself, but you knew that you wouldn’t be capable of being quiet if you did that. Hearing both of their moans was like music to your ears and you had to coach yourself from making any sound. It was torturing yourself not allowing yourself to give you any kind of pleasure from watching this. Your nipples were hard and pussy throbbing but doing that might have gave away that you were watching them. You didn’t want that.

Lucille’s arms wrapped around Negan’s shoulders with his thrusts getting rough. Negan was a very verbal lover, praising her and talking Lucille through everything while also not being afraid to moan. It was incredibly sexy and you just found yourself drawn to both of them more the further they continued.

“Come here,” Negan commanded, helping Lucille lift up from the table to pull her in closer to him. With her holding onto him, Negan grabbed a tighter hold of her with Lucille kissing over the side of his neck. How desperately Lucille clung to him and cried out, you knew that she was enjoying every thrust she was experiencing. Adjusting her, Negan pulled his hips back and it had her crying out when his length pulled away from her. Forcing Lucille face first onto the table, Negan lowered down to kiss over her shoulder and moved in behind her. Adjusting her the way he needed her, Negan reached between them to lead his impressive length back into her. The sound of their skin smacking together was heard, his head lifting up. A wicked smirk tugged at his lips when his hazel eyes connected with yours and you silently cussed to yourself. You thought you were hidden enough to not be seen, but there was no questioning that Negan saw you watching them. Palming down over Lucille’s back, Negan growled out when he grabbed a firm hold of Lucille’s ass testing the flesh in his hands. “Good girl.”

Starting to pound into Lucille had her cries intensifying and Negan’s eyes continued to stay hooked with yours while he fucked his wife. Every plunge had Lucille bouncing forward toward the table before eagerly rocking back into him. Negan was putting on a show now. It fueled him to know that you were watching the two of them together.

“Fuck…” Negan’s head tipped back, the vein at the side of his neck prominent with his movements. Once Lucille’s moans were getting closer together, it had Negan’s thrusts more determined leaving Lucille reaching back to place her hand in over Negan’s lower abdomen to get him to stop his movements so she could catch her breath. It was mesmerizing seeing their bodies pressed together like they were. “Do you feel good honey?”

“Yes daddy,” Lucille purred out, her body tremoring from the orgasm that he got her to.

“You want to ride daddy’s big cock?” Negan questioned with a wolfish smile when Lucille shakily pushed up from the table. She pushed into the center of Negan’s chest getting him to stumble back into the chair that was at the corner of the room. Confirming that you were still watching, Negan started to stroke over his swollen cock drawing attention to how big it actually was. There was no doubting that Negan had a reason to be arrogant about things. Shakily, Lucille moved in over Negan and he helped her to lower down over him with her head burying against the side of Negan’s neck. “Fuck Lucille…”

Staying where you were, you felt your heart hammering in your chest and were enamored with the way they moved together. All the way to the end you watched them knowing that Negan would have wanted that. He was putting on a show for you and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it. Once they were having their intimate moment together after everything, you gave Negan one final look with him pressing kisses over Lucille’s shoulder and you headed back to the couch. Laying down, you turned toward the back of it and pretended to still be sleeping when Negan and Lucille stumbled through the kitchen and to the hallway that you imagine led to their bedroom.

It took an ungodly amount of time for you to fall back asleep, but by the time you finally did wake up, there was light flooding into the living room. You were surprised that Negan and Lucille even let you stay the night like this. No doubt, it was time to finally leave as you carefully pulled yourself up from the couch. The question was, did you tell them or did you just leave?

Thinking it over, you headed toward the hallway knowing that you should just let them know you were going to take off. Making it to the end of the hallway, you noticed that one of the doors was partially opened and you pressed into it. When it opened fully, you felt a lump developing in your throat at the sight before you. Negan was sleeping at the middle of the bed completely naked with only a sheet covering his most intimate parts keeping them hidden from you. Then again, it didn’t leave much to imagination.

Stepping into the bedroom, you gazed over Negan’s body and felt your mouth go dry looking at him. God, he was so incredibly sexy with the tattoos that covered his body. Lowering your gaze, you couldn’t help but stare at the v-line over his hips that led to the dark curls of hair over his lower abdomen that made you lick your lips.

“Are you just going to stare are you going to actually take what you want for once?” Negan’s deep raspy voice filled the air, his eyes fluttering to a slow open. An amused, tired smirk tugged at his handsome features with you standing at the bottom of the bed. Sliding his palm down, Negan caressed over the area that was covered by the sheet before yawning. Stretching out his long body had the sheet tugging further revealing the base of his cock. Your mouth went wet and your heart raced. Tugging slightly at the sheets, Negan pulled it away from his body to reveal his completely naked form to you. “Why don’t you take that dress off for me?”

“Where is Lucille?” you questioned, letting your curiosity get the best of you. Your eyes were still centered on his cock and you were certainly tempted.

“She had a shift today. She left you sleep because you looked like you needed it,” Negan was still comfortable at the center of his bed, his head resting back into the pillows. “So why don’t you do what daddy tells you and take that dress off. And how about you use your mouth to make up for what you did yesterday. We were really going somewhere you know.”

Surprisingly, you found yourself listening to him working the dress from your body. It was bold and it was stupid, but you wanted to obey. Humming out, Negan seemed to enjoy when the material dropped to your feet leaving you in your bra and panties before him. Wiggling his fingers at you excited you. Slowly lowering down, you pressed your knees in over the bottom of his bed with Negan’s smile expanding. God, you were actually doing this. Pressing forward, you balanced your body weight evoking a proud exhale from Negan when you started kissing over his thigh.

Lifting your stare, you felt exhilarated with the way that he was watching your movements. Each kiss you were pressing over his flesh was faint, but he seemed to be enjoying it. Just having him watching you like he was had your heart pounding in your chest. Your eyes fell upon his semi-erect cock that was resting at his hip and your lips parted. Crawling further up the bed, your kisses continued over his body and he let you know he liked it in the way that he sounded. Hovering just over the root to his masculinity had his head tipping to the side to watch you better with his dimples becoming more prominent. How couldn’t you want to do something like this with him?

Dragging your tongue out against the length of his shaft had his hips arching slightly toward you. It made you smile to know he wanted this. Inhaling sharply, Negan did his best to keep his eyes locked on you when you continued to press faint kisses out across the tip of his cock. Quiet moans were falling from his throat and they were so incredibly sexy fueling you even more with what you were doing.

“You’re a tease,” Negan grunted with your fingers curling around his cock, stroking it in unhurried caresses. Glaring at him, you got a good grasp of his manhood before wrapping your lips around the tip. Flicking at it with your tongue had him growling out and the way he looked at you was so enticing. You were gentle at first. You wanted to build up that pressure inside of him. And he was completely enchanted with you. The kisses you pressed against the sensitive tip were wet with your tongue following suit with dragging out against the flesh. Having his cock growing harder inside of your mouth fueled you. The ache between your legs still lingered from the night before, but it was growing with the damp heat this was all causing you. “Fuck. Good girl.”

Hissing out, Negan’s eyes came to a tight close with his head falling back into the pillows as you took him further back into your throat. Now it was about testing what he liked. You couldn’t imagine he would have gotten any sexier, but getting to pleasure him showed you that he could. His body was intoxicating with how it reacted to every touch. Doing your best to impress him, you paid close attention to his praises when you did something he liked and you focused on that. Negan was a big fan of when you would drag your tongue across the underside of his cock where the tip met the shaft. And he loved when you’d take him back into your throat because it had his hips lifting slightly off the mattress every time. It was the damp heat that he was drawn to. God, the taste of him against your tongue was incredible too. Just doing this alone would be a gift for you.

A wet sound filled the air when you pulled your mouth from his body. Sheathing his flesh in your palm, you used your saliva to help coat his length making it easier for you to caress over his cock.

“Last night it looked like Lucille really enjoyed herself,” you whispered against his cock, your words vibrating against his flesh. It had his long eyelashes fluttering, his lips parting and then a smile tugging at them.

“It could have been a whole lot better if you wouldn’t have passed out,” Negan proposed, dragging his tongue across his bottom lip. Last night you were pretty sure that they were trying to start something up with you, but your self esteem got in the way. You questioned if that was the case but hearing it come from Negan’s lips made you wonder. Maybe everything did happen the way you remembered it last night. Stretching his hand out, Negan swept his thumb in over your wet bottom lip. Kissing at the pad of his thumb had him humming out before he caressed his fingers through your hair. It was a soothing sensation with him admiring the sight of you. After what you had done, Negan was fully erect in your grasp. Stealing a look at your handy work, you licked your lips and heard his breathing grow louder. There was amusement in his eyes when you looked back up to him. “What do you think about my cock now that it’s hard and in front of you?”

Snickering, you kissed at the ridges of the tip liking the audible moan that followed, “You know what I think.”

There was something so handsome about the way he looked. There was a reason for all that cockiness and it suited him. He was good looking. His body was amazing and he could charm the pants off anyone. Hell, you were an example of that.

Taking Negan back between your wet lips, you lowered your head down over the first few inches. A hum of approval filled the air with Negan’s fingers hooking tightly into your hair. When you pulled back, you were meticulous in the way you dragged your tongue back over his length making sure to hit that sensitive spot just below the tip every time before lowering back again to repeat the motions.

“Fuck baby,” Negan groaned out, letting you take your time pleasuring him. As your movements grew faster, Negan’s breathing became louder and his grasp got stronger. “Relax your throat.”

Hearing his order, you attempted to do what he asked of you. At that point, the strength of his palm was lowering you further down his rigid cock. The tip hit the back of your throat and you did your best to relax for him. Making sure you could handle it, Negan started to thrust his hips up toward you fucking your throat with slow, careful movements. Over and over again he did it before he pulled you away and allowed the air to fill your lungs again. Your lips were wet, your eyes damp, but you didn’t hate what he had done.

“You are such a fucking good girl,” Negan sat up in bed, grasping your jaw with his right hand. The way his hazel eyes were hooked on yours had your body tremoring and he smiled. Sliding his thumb out over your bottom lip collected the dampness over it and he licked his lips. “Good girls deserve rewards. Don’t you think?”

“Yes daddy,” you purred knowing that’s clearly what he liked to be called. His eyebrows bounced up with a pleased expression over his handsome features. Negan’s messy hair was in his face when he pulled you to him. Claiming your lips in a passionate, heated kiss had you purring against the warmth of his flesh. It was hot, wild and you were becoming more and more addicted with each flick of his tongue over yours. Wincing out, you dropped your head back when Negan’s fingers curled firmly around your throat.

“I’m going to fucking destroy you,” Negan growled against your flesh and while that might have made someone uncomfortable, you found yourself absolutely looking forward to it.

Moving fast, Negan used his strength to roll you onto your back underneath him. Hovering his lips over yours had your heart hammering inside of your chest. Nibbling at your bottom lip, Negan tugged at your flesh before giving you another fiery kiss that had you wanting more. So when he pulled away, you were breathless and panting.

“Fuck honey,” Negan grumbled, pressing kisses down over the side of your neck and toward your chest. Lifting his hand, he tugged at your bra revealing your breast to him when he got the material low enough. Kissing over your full breasts, Negan circled your nipple with the warmth of his tongue before taking it between his lips. Your body was on fire, wanting every bit of what he was providing you with. Curling his arm around your body, Negan worked with the clip at the back of your bra before finally getting it undone. Wasting no time, he pulled at the material tugging your body forward so he could toss it aside and then cover your other breast with his mouth. While he teased and pampered your flesh with his tongue, his other hand caressed your other breast leaving you a panting mess. “You are so fucking beautiful.”

Dropping your head back into the pillows, you enjoyed the weight of Negan over you, taking complete control of you. Each touch and every kiss had you begging for more with you purring out his name. Peppering kisses down over the length of your abdomen had your body arching up toward him and he growled out.

“You deserve to be cherished every fucking night,” Negan declared, biting at your hip as he got up onto his knees. Hooking his arms under your legs, he dragged you to the edge of the bed and grunted when he got you where he needed you. Getting up to his feet, Negan pulled you right to the edge of the bottom of the bed and stared down at you like an animal observing its prey. “It’s a shame that you fucking aren’t.”

A tremoring exhale escaped your lips when Negan tugged at the material of your panties, wasting no time in getting them from your body. Tossing them aside, Negan pushed your right leg up over his shoulder before carefully lowering down. Dragging his fingers over the length of your pussy had you mewling out and he smiled.

“You have such a pretty little pussy, don’t you?” he slurred, lifting his hand to lick over his fingertips before returning them. Stroking his fingers over your most intimate parts had you clutching tightly to the bedsheets that were beneath you. Your eyes slammed shut when Negan lowered his head down to start pressing wet kisses over the inside of your thigh with each kiss getting closer and closer to your most intimate parts. Crying out, you felt Negan’s hot kisses centering in over your sex and you curled the blanket further into a ball under your fingers.

“Negan,” you purred out his name as your body trembled. Strong flicks of Negan’s tongue circling over your sensitive bundle of nerves had you arching your hips to him. And when his lips surrounded the bud and he slurped faintly it had you growing breathless, lifting your head to watch him while he feasted on you. “Christ.”

The strength of Negan’s grasp on your thigh would undoubtedly leave marks, but you didn’t care with the way he left you feeling. Between his mouth and his tongue, you were on cloud nine. Fuck, you didn’t realize how much you truly needed this. Rocking your hips against his movements, you couldn’t help but want more of that friction from his mouth when he pulled away with a moan himself.

“Look at you,” Negan grunted, his fingers tracing over the length of your sex before circling them at your entrance. Inserting one of his long, slender digits had your head tipping back against the bed. You could feel your pulse at your temple when your eyes came to a tight close. Thrusting his finger into you, Negan continued to focus on your clitoris with the warmth of his mouth having you shaking against him between the two. Adding another finger, Negan wasn’t exactly gentle as he pumped them into you, working to hit your g-spot with every thrust after he had found it. You were writhing beneath him and he was using his strength over you to keep you in place. “Come on darlin’. Let it happen. Come for daddy.”

A warmth was rushing to your head and it ached, but it was a good ache. Your thighs were shaking, your body arching up toward him. His fingers were determined, his eyes locked on yours when your hips pulled up with a wet sound. A whimper fell from your lips, your hips shaking and writhing in his grasp. Tiny tremors flooded your body from the orgasm that Negan was able to give you just using his fingers and you were shaken.

“Fuck sweetheart,” Negan snickered against your flesh, still keeping a tight hold of you to keep you in place. “You were really in need of that, weren’t you?”

“Holy shit,” you panted still euphoric after your orgasm noticing how wet his sheets were going to be from what just happened. Even Negan was damp after that one. “I’m sorry.”

“Never apologize for that,” Negan clicked his tongue against the top of his mouth starting to kiss down over your inner thigh again. Almost immediately, his fingers slid back inside of you eliciting an incredible amount of stimulation with the way he was hitting your g-spot. His other hand went to work rubbing at your clit to give you double the amount of pleasure. It had your hips rocking up toward his touch and it was incredible. Every sensation was exceptionally intense since you were already so sensitive, but Negan had a goal and he was determined. Squirming underneath him, you reached for his wrist trying to hold onto something when your heart felt like it was about to pound right out of your chest with the way he was touching you. “Fuck, honey.”

The rhythmic motion of his fingers caressing your g-spot was driving you crazy getting that same fire to flood your body like he did with your last orgasm. Replacing his fingers with his mouth, Negan’s tongue twisted and teased over your clit with his mouth working in unison. You were a panting mess beneath Negan because he knew exactly what to do with you and he did it well.

“Negan,” you cried out hearing the hum that fell from Negan’s throat when he swiftly pulled his fingers out allowing the powerful orgasm to flood from your body. Arching up toward him, you shakily lowered your hands down to tug at the bedsheets. “Fuck.”

“Oh, you are going to be so much fucking fun,” Negan slurred, his amused exhale vibrating against your body leaving you cooing beneath him with the overstimulation that he brought you to. Standing up had your lips parting when your eyes fell to his swollen length that bobbed with his movements. Keeping you right at the edge of the bed, Negan urged one of your legs up over his shoulder when he got onto his knees. With his body pressed flushed against you, you felt chills flooding your body. Tracing a line over your slit with his fingers, Negan smiled and his hazel eyes locked with yours. “You’re already super fucking wet, but if you need me to stop, just let me know?”

Firmly wrapping his fingers around the base of his erection, he toyed with you at first letting the swollen tip tease through your sensitive folds. Purring out had Negan humming and he smiled down at you.

“I know, it feels so good,” Negan muttered, tapping the tip of his cock against your clit having you arching your hips up closer to him. Lining his body up with your entrance, Negan pushed slightly forward giving you the hints that he would fill you, but when he didn’t it had you whining out. Snickering out, Negan’s brow line furrowed as he licked his lips. Unhurriedly sinking his body into yours had you crying out his name. A muscle in Negan’s jaw flexed, his lips parting as your tight canal enveloped his body. The incredibly full, stretching feeling that followed Negan entering you was unlike anything you had felt. Outstretching his right hand, Negan palmed over your breast testing the flesh in his grasp. “Your tight little pussy feels so fucking good. Fuck.”

Taking his time, Negan’s right hand slid down, his fingertips digging into your hip when he started to roll his hips slowly. It was going to take some time adjusting to him, but your body was more than willing. Gasps fell from your throat with every thrust forward he made.

“Do you like the way daddy’s big cock feels?” Negan spoke, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat with a cocky, arrogant smile tugging at his handsome features. Each movement of his hips gradually got harder and faster, allowing him to open your body up further to him. Your moans only fueled him further with the strength of them. “This is only the beginning. Daddy is going to destroy your pussy. You’re going to be feeling me for hours.”

“Please…” you cooed out, a whine falling from your throat when Negan bottomed out inside of you. Writhing beneath him had him smiling and pressing forward to bring your lips together in a sloppy kiss. The warmth of him inside of you and over you sent chills throughout your veins. Whining out, you lifted your head staring down at him stagnant inside of you. You felt every part of him and he wasn’t going to let you move.  

“That’s it honey. Take every fucking inch,” he growled, his fingers curling around your throat drawing it further back against the bed. Panting, your body was aching for that movement and stimulation that he had been giving you. Fuck it ached with him like that inside of you, but at the same time it felt so good. “Do you like having daddy balls deep inside of you?”

“I love it daddy,” you cooed out, gasping when Negan used his strength to move you over toward the center of the bed. Adjusting his positioning, Negan put some strength on the back of your thighs to keep your legs up when he started smacking up with his thrusts, finally giving you that desired movement. They were fluid and rhythmic with his faint moans surrounding the two of you. “Fuck daddy…”

“You are so fucking wet,” Negan muttered, his eyes hooked on your reactions to every movement he made. Sure, he’d steal an occasional look down to watch his cock filling you time and time again, but he mostly liked having that connection with you. He wanted to see what he was doing to you. “You look so fucking beautiful full of daddy’s cock, you know that?”

Crying out, you threw your head back loving the way that the tip of his cock continued to caress at your g-spot having you tremoring beneath him. Plunging his cock into you again and again had your whimpers loud and he was most certainly proud of them. Once Negan found your hotspot, he went all in. He wanted to make you come and he wanted to have you screaming out his name with the way he did things.

“Do you like being fucked like a little slut?” Negan lowered down, bracing his weight with his right hand so he would bring your lips together. The friction from the thick base of his cock rubbing against your clitoris added to the stimulation you were feeling. When you didn’t answer, his fingers curled around your throat again extracting a moan from your lips. “Do you?”

“So much,” you answered him and an amused rumble escaped him. “Your cock feels so big. You’re so deep.”

It had been a long time since you’d been fucked like this. The headboard was smacking up against the wall and he made sure you felt every part of him. Hell, you might have never been fucked like this.

“Don’t stop,” you begged of him liking the closeness of your bodies with his forehead pressed up against yours. Desperately you grasped to his shoulders, your fingers sinking into his dark hair. Negan’s steady thrusts had you wincing out every time.

“Are you going to come again?” Negan’s kisses were intoxicating, with the occasional flick of his tongue over yours. You wondered if he could feel your body tensing up or if your facial expressions were giving it away. There was that heat building in your belly again. A rush flooding through your veins. It was right on the edge and wanted to erupt once more. “Do you want to squirt all over daddy’s cock?”

“Please,” you pled of him, your nails biting into his shoulders with his thrusts becoming harder and more determined. “I want to. I need to come.”

“Your taking daddy’s cock so fucking good honey,” Negan praised you, biting down on his bottom lip. His breathing was loud when he lowered his head to watch his cock plunging into you time and time again. Pressing at the center of his abdomen had him groaning out when he pulled his hips back allowing the rushing flood of your orgasm to hit you. Amused exhales fell from his throat when he looked down between the two of you. You were lost in that orgasm. Your eyes slammed shut, your body shaking and it felt like your heart stopped if only for a second. Your body was experiencing so much stimulation all at once and even though it ached, it kept wanting more of it. Without Negan’s cock inside of you, your hips were arching up and you were panting. Once you got a taste of Negan, you didn’t want it to stop. “Fuck, I knew you were special when I first laid eyes on you, but goddamn.”

With a wink, he grabbed a firm hold of your hips, turning you over onto your knees with ease. Your body was still shaking from the earth-shattering orgasm that he drew out of you when you felt him spanking over your fleshy bottom. Purring out, your hips bounced forward, but he brought them back to him just as quickly.

“You’re such a dirty girl, aren’t you?” Negan caressed over your ass before spanking over it again. There was no question that it was going to leave a mark, but you didn’t care. You liked the way it made you feel. Wrapping his arm around your waist, Negan pulled you up to your hands for you to brace yourself and he hummed out. “I’m gonna need you to balance yourself doll.”

Obeying, you allowed him to move you the way he wanted. Looking back over your shoulder, you watched him stroking his fingers over his girthy length before he led it back into your warmth. It had you crying out, your hips arching forward, but he followed your movements making sure to bring you back to him.

“It feels like your pussy was made for daddy, you know that?” Negan hissed out, his hands grasping firmly to your hips when he started pounding into you from behind. Wet sounds from your fucking filled the bedroom and you were having a hard time keeping up on your hands, but you were doing your best. “Yes. That feels so fucking good. It feels like your pussy was fucking made for me baby.”

“Fuck,” you lowered your head against the center of the bed, your eyes slamming shut while he had his way with you. The plunges of his cock inside of you were hitting areas that felt so fucking good. And he knew it too. “Fuck, that’s deep. Your cock is so big.”

“It feels so good inside of you,” Negan grumbled, squeezing at your fleshy bottom before spanking over it again. The smacks of his lower abdomen up against your ass grew louder with him thrusting harder up. “This pussy is all mine today. Yes it fucking is.”

“Yes,” you mewled out, your fingertips curling around the sheets tightly, your upper half lowering down when your head felt heavy.

Filling you all the way to the brim had you crying out, but he kept a firm hold of your hips to hold you in place. Shakily reaching around, you squeezed at his fleshy thigh hoping to get him to move with your body throbbing around his. Wiggling his hips a bit had you cooing out and he let out that same amused rumble you heard so many times before.

“Watching you squirm on daddy’s cock is amazing baby,” Negan growled out, his palm smacking over your bottom leaving a pinging sensation over your flesh. The sound of Negan spitting was heard and you felt the warmth of it over your skin. Negan’s thumb circled over the pucker of your tight hole eliciting a shuddering cry from your lips when you felt it pressing into you. “Fuck sweetheart. Both of these holes are fucking perfect.”

“Negan,” you rocked your hips back toward him begging for that friction that he was keeping you from. “Please. Fuck me. Please.”

“Oh baby, I will. I promise,” Negan chuckled, allowing you the satisfaction of him pulling his hips back slowly before firmly moving forward with a wet smack. It had you hissing out, your eyes slamming shut while each thrust progressively got harder and faster. “Your body is so fucking perfect.”

It felt incredibly foreign with Negan’s thumb in your ass while he pounded away inside your pussy, but you didn’t mind it. It was him having his way with you and you ultimately enjoyed the idea of being completely and totally his.

“Hopefully in the future you consider letting daddy have this phenomenal ass of yours,” Negan growled out, pulling his thumb from your body before pressing his hand in over the back of your neck. The pressure from it had you hissing out when his firm, sturdy thrusts continued. “Today is about focusing on something else though.”

“Yes daddy,” you wailed out with his powerful thrusts behind you causing you to fall forward onto your stomach and Negan snickered. You laid out flat across the bed and Negan carefully laid over you. The drives of his body became slower with his mouth kissing in over your shoulders. Pampering your body with kisses, Negan’s fingers squeezed firmly around yours. “Fuck.”

“Do you want some time controlling daddy’s cock?” Negan wondered, a wolfish smile tugging at his lips. You didn’t even give him an answer before his cock was pulling from your body. You were weak. You didn’t know how good you would be, but you would do your best. His damp hair was clinging to his skin when he lowered down onto the bed, stretching out his body. Nodding, you shakily crawled in over him. Bracing yourself, you only teased your bottom over his cock when you dropped down to bring your lips together. Repeatedly the two of you kissed and he didn’t seemed to mind or fight it. Hell, every part of this man was addictive. The soft stroking sensation over your jawline had you pulling back to stare down at him. “You were worth the fucking wait.”

“So were you,” you smirked, stealing another kiss from his lips before comfortably moving in over him. Bracing your hands in over his thighs, you lifted your hips just enough for Negan to grab a hold of his cock. Allowing him to press it back into your body had you purring out when you lowered down over his lengthy body. “Fuck Negan.”

“Now I get to watch you fucking yourself on my cock,” Negan bobbed his head about, throwing his arms back behind his head. God, he was so fucking cocky, but for a good reason. Starting off slow, you raised your hips up to the tip of his cock before lowering down. It had him moaning out, his abdomen raising and falling heavily with his breathing. Repeating the same movement had hisses falling from his throat, but his dimples became more prominent with his smile growing. Dragging his tongue across his lips, Negan tipped his head back when you braced yourself on one of your hands while using your other to caress over his testicles. “Fuck. I’m so damn happy you’re our neighbor.”

“I don’t know,” you panted, bracing yourself again when you lowered yourself completely over Negan pulling a loud, raspy moan from him. Multiple times today, the stagnant movements had driven you crazy. Maybe it was your time to do it to him. Having that full feeling was so unique, but you liked experiencing it. “I’m going to get addicted to this dick and want it inside of me all the time.”

“I don’t think there is a problem with that,” Negan grunted, keeping his left arm behind his head but lowering his right so he could circle his thumb over your clit. Purring out, you bit down on your bottom lip starting to roll your hips over his length with his thumb caressing over your body with your movements. “It’s there for you whenever you want it.”

“Just like that?” you whimpered, starting to bounce your hips over his again. The sounds Negan was making made it that much easier for you to fuck yourself on his cock because they were fueling you to keep it up.

“Just like that,” Negan nodded his head, his moans growing louder. “I wish you could see what I am right now. It’s so fucking hot watching your pussy taking my cock like it is.”

“You like that pussy?” you asked with a moan yourself eliciting another groan from Negan. Biting down on his bottom lip, Negan nodded his head and hummed out when you started riding him harder.

“Love it,” Negan growled out, his fingers rubbing faster at your sensitive bundle of nerves. In this position, everything was so much more enhanced and you got to experience that stretching so much more. Every ridge almost felt intensified for you. “Fuck honey.”

Bouncing his hips up toward you, Negan growled out and you found yourself incredibly attracted to the prominent vein that was bulging at the side of his neck. Your bodies were moving in unison when you threw your head back, your hips shaking over Negan when you managed to get yourself to another orgasm. There was no time to gather yourself with Negan rolling you over onto your back. Swiftly turning you onto your stomach again, Negan had you laying comfortably as he carefully laid in over you.

“You are fucking phenomenal,” Negan’s groin smacked up against your bottom when he entered you again making you drop your head down. This time Negan’s kisses were being pressed over your shoulder with his thrusts unhurried. Hooking his fingers with yours, Negan took his time building the tempo behind you before burying his nose against the side of your neck. “Where do you want me to come?”

“I don’t care where, just don’t stop,” you begged of him, your head turning slightly to meet him in a wet kiss that had you purring out against his lips. Negan’s thrusts grew harder with you bouncing your hips back against him. It just felt so good having him inside of you and you never wanted him to leave. Each plunge of his cock was a gift and you were in a euphoric state.

“Fuck,” Negan winced, biting at your jawline when his thrusts started becoming more prominent and sharper. “Daddy is going to fill your pretty little pussy with his cum. Are you okay with that?”

“Yes daddy,” you released his left hand, reaching down to grasp at his thigh enjoying the way the muscle flexed beneath your touch. The grasp of Negan’s fingers around yours grew stronger with his moans more frequent and closer together. “I want to feel you come inside of me. Fill me with every last drop…”

“Fucking hell,” Negan groaned out against the side of your neck, his cock throbbing inside of you. With the first twitch, you could feel the first line of his cum filling you. Even through his orgasm, Negan fucked you with powerful movements. The wet sounds of his body smacking with yours made you smile. Negan’s fingers were sinking into your hair, tugging firmly at it when his movements gradually started to slow down. By the time his movements halted all together, Negan was kissing over your jawline and caressing his fingers at the back of your neck. “So fucking perfect.”

Lazily, Negan pulled himself up onto his knees and watched as he unhurriedly pulled his cock from your body enjoying the sight of his cum pouring out of you and down your thighs. Giving your bottom one last spank, Negan laid down beside you on the bed on his back stretched out.

Both of your breathing was uneven when you rolled onto your side to get a look at him. There was a thin layer of sweat over Negan’s body and his softening cock was resting at his lower abdomen making you lick your lips. Unsure of your movements, you slid across the bed and rest your head over Negan’s chest. When Negan’s arm wrapped around your waist, you realized it was okay to cuddle in over him. Listening to the strong, steady tempo of his heartbeat was soothing to you while you took your time gaining your breathing back.

“I think you were trying to kill me,” you teased, kissing over Negan’s chest and playfully nipping at his nipple. A raspy laugh fell from Negan’s throat.

“Death by sex isn’t the worst way to go,” Negan commented, squeezing his arm further around your hips when he got comfortable in the bed beside you. “Brings a whole new meaning to a killer orgasm, doesn’t it?”

It was easy getting relaxed with Negan. You didn’t plan for it, but somewhere along the way of trying to gather your strength, you found yourself falling asleep with him. It was the sound of a car alarm going off outside that had you shocking yourself awake. At first you didn’t realize where you were. The room was dark and being wrapped up in Negan’s arms while the both of you were sleeping was not something you were expecting. You didn’t hate it, but when your eyes fell upon the picture of Negan and Lucille that was in the bedroom you felt your heart dropping.

“Fuck,” you cussed out, carefully moving out of Negan’s arms doing your best not to wake him as you moved. Negan was a married man and you just had some of the best sex of your life with this man. What the hell were you thinking? Of course, you knew what you were thinking. Negan was one of the sexiest men you had ever laid eyes on, but you also really liked Lucille and what you had done was so extreme.

Gathering your clothes, you haphazardly pulled them on so you could sneak back to your home. You were happy that you were able to sneak out without Negan waking up, but you had no idea how you were going to face Negan and Lucille again. When it was happening, you just got so lost in the moment that you forgot completely that Negan was married to Lucille. Or maybe you just didn’t care, but you should have.

Almost immediately you made your way to the shower. Your body was still weak from everything you put it through. You were going to need to hydrate yourself and get some kind of rest. Negan wasn’t kidding when he told you he was going to destroy your pussy because he did. Everything ached. It was a good ache, but it was like you could still feel him inside of you.

Toward the end of your shower, you heard your doorbell ringing. It was a few times so you rushed in the shower and wrapped a towel around your body. Hooking it together tightly, you made your way to the door to open it. Before you could react, Lucille was walking into your home and you let out a worried sound when she headed toward the center of your living room.

“Lucille,” you clung to the towel that was around you, a breath catching in your throat with the way that Negan’s wife was storming into your home. “What are you doing here?”

“I need a drink and I just…” Lucille finally turned to you to see that you were in only a towel and she smirked. “Well, I came here to ask you if you wanted to go to the bar down the street with me because I had a hard day at work with my asshole boss, but you look…”

“A little underdressed?” you finished, thanking God that Lucille wasn’t here to kick your ass for what happened between you and Negan earlier today. “Yeah, I think I’m going to have to take a raincheck, but we can definitely do it another time.”

“Were you in the shower?” Lucille seemed amused that you came to the door in nothing but a towel and you shrugged your shoulders. “You could have gotten dressed.”

“It sounded important,” you reasoned with her, throwing your hand up in the air while your other hand held tightly to the towel.

“When did you wake up?” Lucille questioned, folding her arms out in front of her chest. With her green eyes locked on yours, you shrugged and cleared your throat uneasily. “Was Negan a good host for you. Did he make you breakfast?”

“He was a good host,” you explained with a nod of your head, a warmth flooding into your cheeks at the thought of your interaction with Negan. “You both have been really good to me. I couldn’t complain. I’m sorry for passing out last night.”

“You can’t help when that happens,” Lucille pointed out, her eyes falling to the top of your towel and you swallowed down hard. “I just feel bad because you missed out on the rest of the night’s festivities.”

“I can only imagine how good those were,” you bit down on your bottom lip knowing that you watched Lucille and Negan having sex together. It took you a minute to gather yourself before pointing back toward your bedroom. “You know, if you really want that drink, I can grab you something and get you one here. I’ll get dressed…”

“Hey,” Lucille called out to you when you turned away from her. You felt her arm snaking around your waist to pull you back to her and a chill ran down your spine. “What’s the rush? If you’re comfortable, I don’t mind.”

“Lucille,” you breathed out her name realizing that her hand was dragging across your breasts through the material of the towel that you were wearing. “What is this?”

“What?” Lucille’s nose nuzzled in against the side of your neck and the warmth of her breath had your eyes slamming shut. Chills flooded your body again when you felt the delicate kiss that Lucille pressed over your shoulder. “I had a stressful day at work and I just thought we could destress together.”

“Is that what this is?” you panted when her kisses started to tamper off over the side of your neck. Licking your lips, you were doing your best to keep it together as Negan’s wife started to pamper your body with delicate kisses. It was vastly different than Negan’s approach, but you didn’t hate it. Your heart started to hammer in your chest again. Lifting your hand, your fingers hooked with hers and you bit down on your bottom lip. “What about your drink?”

“I don’t know. I think you might be better than that drink,” Lucille replied, being forceful in the way that she led you toward the wall in your living room to slam you back against it. Huffing out, Lucille’s beautiful eyes linked with yours and you felt your mouth going dry. “Are you against this kind of thing?”

“Fucking around with my neighbor?” you bit down on your bottom lip, your eyebrows bouncing up when Lucille smiled at your response. After what you did with Negan this morning, you had a good answer for that one. “Can’t say that I’m overly against it.”

“That’s not what I was asking you,” Lucille’s thumb dragged across your bottom lip leading you to instinctively press a faint kiss against the pad of it.

“I know you see the way I look at you,” you countered, lifting your hand to brush your fingers through Lucille’s blonde hair. Fuck, today was starting to feel like the luckiest day of your life with two of the most attractive people you’d ever seen throwing themselves at you. And you were just too deeply into it to turn either one of them away.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Lucille reasoned until you swept your fingers in over her jawline to urge her close to you so you could bring your lips together in a lingering kiss. Maybe this was bad considering you truly wondered how well you cleaned up after you did what you had with her husband earlier in the day. Each sweep of Lucille’s lips over yours were perfect and it drew you further in toward her. After separating from the kiss, there was a smile over Lucille’s beautiful face and it took your breath away. “I just had to make sure that I wasn’t forcing anything on you.”

“Someone would have to be a fucking idiot to turn you away,” you announced, letting out a nervous breath when Lucille’s fingers traced up over the towel that you were wearing. It didn’t take much to get the material separated having it fall to your feet. Your throat went dry with the way that Lucille was looking over you and you bit down on your bottom lip. Boldly stepping forward, Lucille curled her fingers around the back of your neck pulling you to her so she could bring your lips together again. Between her and Negan, they were so vastly different, but you enjoyed both of them so very much. Lucille’s hand caressing down over the small of your back had you purring out. By the time her hand caressed over the swell of your bottom you were breathless. “You know, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

Part of you wondered if this was something Negan came up with, but by the expression over Lucille’s face it made you question that thought, “I just mean if you don’t like me like this, you don’t have to pretend to feel this way.”

“If I didn’t like you like this, I wouldn’t have been trying to do this since you got here,” Lucille stated, her other hand sliding down between the valley of your breast causing you to inhale sharply. Sweeping her thumb over the swell of your breast had a breath hitching in your throat. “I couldn’t tell if you were into women at first. You’re a tough cookie to crack.”

“I’m into beauty. I don’t think I need to put a label on it,” you declared with a hum, your head tipping back against the wall when Lucille’s thumb circled your nipple getting it to harden with her touch. “I like what I like.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Lucille’s mouth covered yours again, focusing at your bottom lip as you worked with the sundress that she had been wearing for work. Managing to get the material from her body, it dropped at her ankles with your towel and you swallowed down hard. Having Lucille standing before you in her bra and panties drove you crazy with desire all over again. “The way you look at me makes me feel like a teenage girl all over again.”

“Is that a bad thing?” your fingers caressed over her slender hip and over her ribcage. It made Lucille bite down on her bottom lip when she brought your bodies closer together.

“No, I like it. I like it a lot,” she suggested, urging you to kiss her again.

Right now, with the two of you it was more about learning to touch each other. Lucille was so much more delicate than Negan, but she still had that power in her that drew you to her. In her relationship with Negan, you knew she was the boss and in charge. There was no questioning it. It was incredibly sexy to you. Purring out, you enjoyed the way that Lucille’s lips tampered off over the side of your neck and down over your collarbone. That was one thing about Lucille and Negan. They both were taking charge with things when it came to you and you didn’t hate it. When Lucille’s lips covered your breast, you stroked your fingers at the back of her neck and whimpered out at the sensation. Everything was already so sensitive with your body, that it felt phenomenal being pampered again. Working your fingers around the back of her, you palmed down over the lengths of her body and purred out. Maybe you should have been questioning things better, but you just didn’t care. You were living in the moment and there was no pulling you out of it. Managing to unhook Lucille’s bra, you let the material drop down her arms. Lucille stepping back had you crying out with the warmth of her mouth leaving you, but she managed to pull the bra from her body. Just the sight of her caused a breath to hitch in your throat.  

“You are fucking gorgeous,” you alerted Lucille and the smile it gave her took your breath away. Between Negan and Lucille, you always had a hard time debating which one of them you liked better. Today still didn’t give you an answer to that question. They both were phenomenal. Boldly stepping forward, Lucille brought your bodies together and the warmth of hers pressed against yours had chills flooding your veins. Instead of what happened with Negan, this was slow and drawn out. Anticipation was building between the two of you. Touching each other in unhurried caresses felt amazing and the kisses that you shared between were like a gift that you had been waiting for. “Lucille…”

Part of you wanted to say something, but she hushed you. Her lips covering yours when her hand trailed a line from the side of your neck, down between the valley of your breasts, down over your abdomen and between your thighs. Sucking in a sharp breath of air, you tipped your head back and allowed her to kiss down over the side of your neck with her fingertips dancing over the length of your sex. The sensitivity that Negan left you with was still there, but your hips happily arched up toward the touch of Lucille’s soft fingertips taking their time with you. Between the two of them, you didn’t know what you did to deserve this kind of pampering, but you liked it. Hell, you loved it.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve wanted to do this,” Lucille breathed out with a purr following when you felt Lucille’s fingers entering you. It had your head falling back against the wall, but your eyes stayed connected with hers.

“You should have taken your chance,” you trailed your fingers down the center of her slender abdomen toward the top of her panties. Pushing your fingers beneath the material of her panties, your breath caught in your throat when Lucille’s eyes came to a fluttering close with the sensation of your fingertips tracing over her most intimate parts. Urging her legs further apart with your free hand, you mirrored her movements in inserting one of your fingers into her warmth. A second soon followed and it had her lips crashing down in over yours. Passionate kisses were shared between the two of you, breathless moans falling from your lips with the both of you fingering one another. Thank God for the wall behind you helping to brace you because your legs were a shaking mess with everything that happened already today.

Lucille’s fingers slid up over your throat, grabbing a firm hold of your jaw. Forcing your head back had a wince falling from your throat, but you liked the way that Lucille was manhandling you. Your body was on fire, your flesh tingling with excitement.

“You are full of surprises,” Lucille panted against your lips with her body pressing as closely to yours as possible. Backstepping, Lucille had you following her movements until the both of you fell on top of your couch together. The sheer dominance in the way that Lucille was taking over everything had your pulse leaping in your throat and chills flooding down your spine. Every kiss and touch you were eager for with your hips arching up toward every movement of her fingers inside of you. And she was just as eager, her cries of pleasure mirroring yours the stronger the force of your fingers inside of her were.

“Lucille,” you cried out her name, your moan vibrating against her lips when your thighs began to tremor. Tipping your head, you attempted to keep up the tempo of your fingers inside of her with her hips thrusting against the movements aiding to the friction it was causing her with your palm against her clitoris. By the time she was tremoring over you, your body was done and you were happy to have her laying in beside you when you both shared a moment of bliss between each other. “Wow.”

“Wow,” Lucille repeated with a smirk, her head tipping to the side to stare out at you with the both of you cuddled close together on your couch. “I feel like you’re going to be needing another shower.”

“No kidding,” you cracked a smile, your eyes closing with the way the room felt like it was spinning around you. Lucille’s head cuddled in against your collarbone and it felt nice having her laying up against you. It was comforting and it made you feel more connected with her. At least with Lucille and Negan, you didn’t feel like a booty call, even if that’s what you were. You felt admired and wanted by the way they were both incredibly touchy and passionate with you even after your sexual moments together. Although, it was short lived. By the time that Lucille’s breathing had returned to normal she was sitting up on the couch and heading over to her clothes to put them back on. “You’re not staying?”

“Negan is making dinner,” Lucille explained, gazing back at you with her gorgeous green eyes. “I might already be late for that.”

“Negan, right,” you cleared your throat adjusting yourself on the couch with Lucille’s eyes still locked on you.

“You’re welcome to come if you’d like,” Lucille chuckled after the words fell from her lips. “No pun intended, even if it sounded bad.”

“I don’t know,” you began, suddenly feeling guilty that you did this with both Lucille and Negan when they were married. You were starting to question if it made you a bad person sleeping with two people that were married and not giving a shit at the time about their significant other. Being together with the both of them was just going to make it extremely complicated. “I think I shouldn’t.”

“Well the offer is on the table,” Lucille finished up with her clothes, moving back to the couch to bend down to leave you with a lingering kiss. A sweep of her fingers over the side of your face made you sigh when she pulled away. “Feel free to come over whenever you please.”

And with that, she left you. It was probably hours that you remained on that couch. Your thoughts eating away at you thinking back on both moments that you shared with Negan and Lucille. If things kept up like this, you were going to get addicted to the both of them and you knew that you couldn’t since they were married.

That was honestly all you could think about. All night long. By morning, you had barely slept. How could you after all that overstimulation? Your body could have used the sleep, but the two of them were all you could think about.

It took a while to gather yourself, but toward the afternoon you looked outside to see that Negan had been working on his motorcycle with Lucille often joining him. You had to talk to the two of them and let them know that you couldn’t see them anymore. Or else it was going to get to be too much and you knew that.

Heading over to their home felt awkward. How the hell were you going to tell them why you were saying this without letting the other know that you slept with their significant other the day before?

“Hey there gorgeous,” Negan’s raspy voice rumbled, lifting his head up from where he was working when he heard your footsteps. Negan was in a pair of blue jeans and a white tank top. With the hot sun beaming down over him, he had gotten a little sweaty. Standing up straight, Negan reached for the towel that he had for himself to wipe off his hands and he met you halfway. Going to lean down, it felt like Negan was about to kiss you, but your hand placed over the center of his chest to stop him. Confusion flooded his handsome features, his head tipping to the side. “Is everything okay?”

“I need to talk to you and Lucille,” you explained lowering your head down doing your best not to look at Negan. Because if you looked at Negan? You knew it wouldn’t take much to have you in awe of that man and his dimples all over again.

“Yeah, okay,” Negan’s hand reached out to grab a hold of yours to lead you toward the front door of his home. Even having him grabbing your hand like that had you confused with things here. “Mama? Y/N wants to talk to us.”

“Hold on Negan,” Lucille’s voice called out with Negan urging you to lean back against their Mustang. The way his hazel eyes stared out at you was giving you butterflies in your stomach and you damned yourself for getting so hooked on them. The sound of their storm door being pushed open was heard and you noticed Lucille moving in behind Negan. “Hey honey. What’s going on?”

“I know this is probably going to sound terrible because of how wonderful the both of you have been to me,” you were hating yourself for even coming to this, feeling a lump developing in your throat with Lucille’s arms wrapping loosely around Negan’s waist. “But I think I’ve come to the realization I need to put some space between myself and the two of you because…well,” you looked between the two, “I just don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“I’m confused,” Lucille’s fingers stroked at the back of Negan’s neck, twirling the dark curls of hair that were there. “Was your sex bad daddy?”

“Was my sex bad?” Negan stammered, his tone suddenly becoming dramatic when he turned to face his wife. Pointing at his chest, Negan stole a quick look at Y/N and smirked. “My sex had her squirting all over the place leaving her in tears of joy. I wore her out so much that she passed out for a few hours with how many orgasms she had.”

“Well maybe not all people like that kind of sex,” Lucille suggested dragging her fingers down over the side of Negan’s neck where it was damp from him sweating.

“How do we know it wasn’t your sex that turned her off?” Negan scoffed, his nose wrinkling suddenly making Lucille offended at the idea. Hearing the two of them bickering with one another about them having sex with her suddenly brought forth an onset of confusion.

“Wait, you both knew…” you concluded causing both of them to look over at you. You felt your heart drop with how they both looked after your words.

“Honey, we were trying to get you to have sex with the both of us before you passed out,” Lucille commented with an amused breath. “You don’t think we didn’t know about the sex we had with you?”

“I thought you liked the both of us?” Negan reached up to wipe the sweat from his brow. It had your throat going dry and you stood awkwardly before them. “I thought you’d want to be part of something like this. We both like you, a lot and thought you’d be a great addition to our marriage.”

“Oh wow, yeah, I had no idea,” you thought about the night you had passed out and realized that maybe it was something that you should have picked up on sooner. “I’m an idiot.”

“A little more innocent than I think you give yourself credit for,” Lucille chuckled, tipping up on her toes to whisper something in Negan’s ear. With a nod, Negan stepped forward, his hands sliding in over your hips eliciting a loud exhale to fall from your throat. “Does that mean you still want to stop doing this? I thought the three of us would have a good thing here. You can come and go as you please. We won’t force you into anything.”

“It’s all up to you,” Negan bobbed his head about, his smile tugging at his handsome features. The closeness of him took your breath away. Licking his lips, Negan dipped down to start kissing over your jawline and it had your eyes coming to a tight close. “I don’t think you want to stop this whole thing. Do you?”

“No,” you answered honestly, your lips being covered by Negan’s. Curling your fingers around the back of his neck, you tipped up in closer to him eager to meet his lips in the heated kiss. Palming down your back led to Negan squeezing over your full bottom. Purring out against his lips had him firmly turning you to face the Mustang. Placing your hands out over the side of it, Negan’s hands were quick to cover your hips pulling you back to him. Growling out, Negan’s mouth found its way to the side of your neck with his arm hooking around your waist to pull your bottom back against his groin. “Negan. Fuck.”

“So does this mean that you want to be part of what we have going on here?” Lucille leaned against the Mustang beside you, her green eyes hooked on yours while Negan’s hips started to buck up against your bottom. Stepping in closer, Lucille curled her finger underneath your chin to pull your face to her. Behind hooded eyes, you stared out at her almost feeling high with the way that Negan was attempting to entice you. “You can say no if you want.”

“I’d be an idiot to say no,” you panted with Lucille stealing a kiss from your lips. Gasping out, you felt Negan’s fingers pushing into your pants to get them down your hips and you heard the sound of Negan’s belt jingling before his zipper was being pulled down. A firm grasp of Negan’s hands over your hips had you crying out when he brought you where he needed you. Moaning out in unison with Negan as he entered you from behind had Lucille purring against your lips. You were clinging onto their Mustang as that familiar full stretching feeling of Negan’s cock buried deep inside of you was felt.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Negan buried his nose against the side of your neck when his hips started rolling behind you with his groin bucking up against your bottom. Smack after smack of his hips against your ass had your head pressing against their Mustang. There was something incredibly dangerous about having Negan fucking you outside in their front yard on a hot summer day, but for some reason you didn’t give a shit. Plunge after delicious plunge of his cock inside of you had you up on your tip toes, your hips doing their best to rock back into his thrusts. “I knew you couldn’t say no to this cock.”

“We should take this into the house daddy,” Lucille urged hearing Negan grunt when he pulled his hips back and away from your body leaving you falling forward against the Mustang. Your legs were shaking with the presence of Negan’s body leaving yours. Shakily you pulled your pants back over your hips and saw Negan gazing back as he pushed his cock back into his jeans. Not that it hid much because you could visibly see the line of Negan’s girthy cock through the material. There were people walking outside, but before you could have much of a reaction to it, Lucille was leading you up the stairs to their home on your shaky legs. Once you were inside, Lucille pulled you to her and had you falling in against her as Negan followed the two of you in. Closing the door behind him, Negan pressed in behind you trapping you between the two of them and it had you panting. “If you think we’re good apart, you can only imagine how good we are together.”

“Fuck,” you purred out with Negan’s lips back to covering over your jawline as he kissed over your sensitive flesh. Lucille’s fingers grabbed at the bottom of your shirt, bringing it up your body. Once it reached your arms, she stepped back allowing you to lift them for her to help you take it off. In seconds Negan’s fingers were digging into your pants to get them down again needing you to kick out of your shoes while they worked together to get you standing naked between them. “Are you both sure?”

“Do we not seem sure?” Negan chuckled against your flesh, his hand finding its way between your thighs having you resting your head back against his shoulder. Lucille’s lips were trailing down over the other side of your neck and over your chest. When her lips covered your breast, Negan’s caress between your thighs grew harder. Your body was on fire. Shaking and your core dripping with anticipation. Unsteadily you reached for Lucille’s shirt that she was wearing working it up her body. “Good girl.”

Getting Lucille’s shirt off had you whimpering out with the circling caress of Negan’s rough fingertips over your extremely sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Hold her tight,” Lucille instructed Negan and it left you breathless when Lucille worked to get the rest of her clothes off.

“Yes mama,” Negan snickered, his arm hooking loosely around your waist from behind. His palm caressed up over the length of your abdomen with Lucille lowering down on her knees before you. It had a breath catching in your throat with Negan’s other hand lifting up to grab a firm grasp of your throat. The warmth of Lucille’s kisses started at your hip, lowering down over your thigh having you tremoring against Negan’s grasp. “You are such a good girl.”

“Negan,” you turned your head slightly so his lips could claim yours in a hungry kiss with his tongue brushing out against yours. Whimpering out, you felt Lucille’s lips pressing between your thighs and you were thankful Negan was holding you up. You were a trembling mess when the warmth of Lucille’s lips surrounded your clit and then the teasing flick of her tongue followed.

“Does that feel good baby?” Negan’s fingers squeezed tighter at your throat and you purred out. Nipping at your bottom lip, Negan squeezed his other hand over your breast and snickered. “It’s rare Lucille and I can agree on someone we both want in our relationship. From the start, we both knew that we had to have you.”

“Lucille,” you sobbed lowering your hand to sink your fingers into her hair with her pleasuring you. Once again, she was so vastly different from how Negan did things, but you liked it. The contrast made things so much more appealing to you. The soft bucking of Negan’s hips against your bottom had them faintly bouncing forward into the caresses of Lucille’s mouth over you having your cries growing louder.

“Your just happy to be pampered aren’t you?” Negan slurred, a moan falling from his throat when you reached around you with your other palm to caress over the front of Negan’s jeans. Helping you get his pants open, Negan grunted against the side of your neck when your hand dipped into his pants to curl your fingers around his thick manhood. “Fuck darlin’, you are so fucking good.”

Cooing out, you couldn’t help but whine with Lucille pulling her mouth from your body when she rose slowly. Meeting your lips in a wet kiss had your taste lingering against her mouth and you hummed out with your tongue brushing against hers. Lucille urged you to face Negan and his mouth met yours in a strong kiss that shocked you with how much you enjoyed it. Over and over again his lips caressed over yours with Lucille tugging at the bottom of his tank top.

Helping Lucille, you got Negan’s tank top from his body and dropped the material on the ground. Kissing over Negan’s shoulders, you found yourself charmed with the freckles that covered his skin and you hummed with Lucille kissing at the side of your neck.

“On your knees honey,” Lucille ordered, sinking her fingers into your hair. Obeying, you lowered down and Lucille pushed at Negan’s pants to get them down. Lucille’s slender fingertips stroked at Negan’s cock drawing attention to the swollen tip that had precum developing at it. Helping Negan out of his boots and his pants, you felt your mouth grow wet watching Lucille caressing over Negan’s hard cock. They were kissing and the way that they were kissing had your heart hammering in your chest. Hell, just getting to see them together was more than enough for you. With her other hand, Lucille motioned you in closer to Negan and she nodded toward Negan’s erection. “Take his cock into your mouth.”

“Yes ma’am,” you purred out and Negan moaned when Lucille led his cock to your wet lips. Keeping your eyes hooked on them, you gagged slightly with Negan bucking his hips toward your throat but eagerly worked your mouth over his length. Remembering what Negan liked the day before, you were sure to pleasure him the best way you could, your right hand caressing over his testicles while your left caressed over the side of his body and around to squeeze over his small bottom.

“You like her mouth daddy?” Lucille questioned against Negan’s lips while they kissed making Negan smile.

“So fucking much,” Negan hissed, his hips arching up toward the motions of your mouth over him. Lucille’s kiss lowered down over his jawline. Wincing out, Negan licked his lips when Lucille’s tongue circled his nipple and nipped faintly at it. Lucille’s kisses lowered down over his hips before she joined you on her knees beside you. Pulling your mouth away from Negan’s with a wet sound, you leaned in to meet Lucille in a kiss and Negan’s fingers caressed both at the back of your neck and Lucille’s. When you parted, Lucille took Negan’s cock between her lips bobbing her head over his length. While she did that, you kissed down over Negan’s testicles eliciting one of the sexiest moans you heard from Negan. The tension from Negan’s fingers hooked in your hair was tight. Gradually your lips rose up over his hip before you joined Lucille who pulled back. Lapping at the head of Negan’s cock with your tongue had his head dropping back, his Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat. Joining you, Lucille’s tongue twisted with yours on occasion with the two of you focusing on the sensitive tip. “Christ…”

Gasping out, you felt Negan lower down onto his knees with you and he hooked his arm around your waist to pull you to him, “Do you want to ride daddy’s face or cock?”

“Let Lucille get a ride on your beautiful cock,” you responded, allowing Negan to lower himself on the floor. Watching Lucille crawl in over Negan, you took a moment to enjoy yourself at the sight with his large hands grasping Lucille’s hips when she braced herself. Excitement flooded your veins at the sight of Lucille’s eyes closing once she lowered down over Negan’s cock.

“Come on,” Negan snapped his fingers helping you to crawl in over him so you were facing Lucille. The grasp Negan had on your hips was strong when you lowered just enough for Negan’s tongue to drag across the length of your sex. In this position, you and Lucille could kiss while Negan had his way with you and Lucille had her way with him.

“You look so fucking gorgeous riding his cock like that,” you slurred against Lucille’s lips, a whine falling from your throat with how hard Negan’s mouth was working over your body. Negan’s grasp on your thighs was strong and your body involuntarily was rocking back against the movement of Negan’s mouth.

All of your moans surrounded the living room, with you enjoying one another. Falling forward, you did your best not to fuck up Lucille’s movements over Negan while he continued to use his wickedly talented mouth to pleasure you.

“Fuck Negan,” you muttered, your hips shaking against him and that’s when you realized your body was still incredibly sensitive from the night before. A proud rumble from Negan’s throat vibrated against your sex when he was quick to bring you to an orgasm. Pulling your hips from Negan’s mouth had him groaning out, but you crawled on the floor to the other side behind Lucille. Peppering kisses over the side of her neck, you worked your fingers over her clitoris while Negan’s hips bounced up toward her again and again from underneath her. “Come for us beautiful.”

Between her pants and sobs, you knew that Lucille was close and so did Negan by the sounds of his hips smacking harder beneath her. Once it had Lucille pulling her hips up and away from Negan, you knew that by her shaking that she reached an orgasm. Grunting out, Negan lifted up and curled his arm around Lucille’s waist. Kissing down over the side of Lucille’s neck, you stroked your fingers through Negan’s damp hair. It led his lips to yours, kissing him but then being pulled to Lucille for another kiss. It was about sharing in this moment and the three of you were doing it well.

Palming down over the side of your face, Lucille shakily got up to her feet and moved over toward the couch to sit down. It had Negan smirking when he forcefully urged you onto your hands and knees facing toward the couch so Lucille could watch your reactions.

“Fuck honey,” Negan slurred, the warmth of his body pressing in behind yours. Just the heat radiating against you felt amazing with Negan’s right-hand tracing from your lower back up to your neck. His left hand squeezed over your bottom before a firm whack was placed over your cheek. Your eyes slammed shut with a moan escaping your parted lips. “You have such an amazing ass.”

The sound of Negan adjusting behind you was heard and you looked over your shoulder to get a look back at him. The way that the dark curls of hair clung to his slender body from the dampness of his flesh drew attention to the lines of his torso and it drew you to him so much more. You found everything about Negan sexy. From his tattoos to the slenderness of his form along with the soft fleshy area beneath his bellybutton. Negan’s body in your opinion was perfection. Just like Lucille’s was. But it was definitely Negan’s attitude that really drew more to his sex appeal. Just getting to see him in this state would fuel you for years to come. With the way Negan’s long slender fingers curled around his straining cock, it had your mouth going wet. It brought attention to the swollen tip and the prominent veins in his manhood.

Noticing that you were staring had Negan’s head bobbing about in an arrogant fashion. There was no question that your attraction to him fueled him. The weight of Negan tapping his cock against your ass made you purr out, lifting your hips up closer to him and an amuse rumble fell from him.

“You can’t wait to be full of Negan’s cock again, huh? Good girl,” Negan praised you, leading his cock back into your heated abyss with an unhurried push forward of his hips so you could take the time to feel all of him inside of you. It surprised you how much it actually affected you with the sensation of him filling you every time. Just feeling every ridge and every vein felt incredible. That was honestly what Negan wanted in his meticulous movements. To have you realize just how lucky you actually were to be experiencing this kind of moment. Negan was good. Hell, he knew that and was stressing it to you in the way he did things. “Your tight little pussy feels so fucking good. You know that?”

“Yes daddy,” you licked your lips crying out when he filled you completely. Your hips wanted to bounce forward, but you did your best to stay put when the pressure of Negan’s fingers wrapping around the back of your neck was felt again. With no movement, it was the most addictive torturous feeling because it felt great to have that full feeling, but your body was desperate for the movement. “Please.”

“Please what?” Negan mused, lowering down to press hot, wet kisses over your shoulder. Lifting your stare showed you that Lucille was staring out at the two of you with a smirk. “Use your words beautiful.”

“Fuck me,” you begged, your whine following when you tried to move your hips, but you couldn’t with the grasp that Negan had over you. “I want you to fuck me.”

“Yes ma’am,” Negan snickered against your shoulder, nipping at the flesh a final time before readjusting himself. With the firm smack of his hips against yours, it had you purring out and biting into your bottom lip. Every thrust was slow, but it was rough enough to have your hips bouncing forward. With each roll of his hips, each one got just that much faster and by the time he was pounding into you from behind you were having a hard time keeping yourself up on your hands. Crawling forward slightly had Negan following your movements when you got close enough to grab a hold of Lucille’s thighs to keep yourself from falling over. Your sobs of pleasure matched Negan’s moan with Lucille’s stroking her fingers through your hair.

“She really is high off your dick baby,” Lucille muttered and an amused sound fell from his throat. Pressing kisses over the inside of Lucille’s thigh had her body lowering down in closer to yours with her legs separating.

“That’s because I’m that fucking good honey,” Negan was arrogant in the way he responded. Pressing in closer to you had your head pressing back against his chest as he leaned forward to meet Lucille halfway in a feverish kiss. His hips were still bucking up against yours while you were pressed between the two of them. Using your right hand, you grasped firmly to Negan’s hips feeling that all familiar sensation building up inside of you.

“Don’t stop,” you pled with Negan’s fingers digging harder into your hips. Giving you what you wanted, Negan’s mouth pulled from Lucille’s and covered yours with your cries vibrating against his lips. Over and over he pounded into you, until your body pulled up and away from his having his moan follow and an amused rumble fell from his throat with your wet release. “Fuck…fucking…”

“Oh, he’s very good, isn’t he?” Lucille breathed out with Negan standing up from the ground with an arrogant breath. Dropping onto the couch beside Lucille, Negan’s long legs stretched out and he pat his lap.

“Come on mama,” Negan instructed, wiggling his fingers at her. “Your turn. She’s gonna need a minute.”

Lowering down onto the ground, you rest your upper half on the couch when you saw Lucille crawling in over Negan with her back to him. She braced her feet on the couch cushions, Negan’s hands grasping tightly to her hips with her hands bracing against the back of the couch to balance herself. Helping her lead herself down over his length, Negan grabbed a hold of his erection placing it at her entrance as she lowered her hips.

“Fuck me…” Negan growled, his head falling back against the couch when Lucille started bouncing her hips eagerly over him. It had the lines in Negan’s forehead growing with him biting down on his lip. Watching them together was nice, but there was still that want to be part of it. Moving before them, you started kissing over the inside of Negan’s thighs with Lucille controlling her hips over Negan’s manhood. Focusing on his testicles had Negan moaning out since you were pampering his body with wet kisses and Lucille was riding him. “Fuck ladies…”

Pressing your kisses further up had Lucille’s hips coming to a halt when your mouth centered in over her sensitive bundle of nerves. With her whimpers filling the air, Negan picked up on what was happening and used the strength in his legs to bounce up toward Lucille again and again. Breathless moans fell from Lucille’s parted lips with you and Negan working together to bring her to her next orgasm. It was one of the dirtiest, kinkiest things you had ever done but you were all for it. You were exhilarated that these two beautiful people would want you to be involved in their relationship in the first place so you were taking advantage of it as much as you could.

With every flick of your tongue against Lucille’s sex along with Negan’s hips smacking up against her, Lucille’s lower body started to tremor. With her body tensing up and her breathing becoming uneven, it was very apparent that her orgasm was approaching. Closing your eyes, you felt Lucille’s fingers digging into your hair pulling you flush against her and her hips were lowering down over Negan’s after she lost the balance of her hand on the couch. Tremors filled her and she was breathing rapidly with Negan’s moans matching hers.

“Goddamn baby,” Negan hummed against the side of Lucille’s neck and it sent chills through your body knowing that you were able to bring her to an orgasm like that with Negan’s help. One thing about Lucille is that she was incredibly beautiful all the time, but after her orgasm, she just had this glow about her. Licking your lips, you leaned back on your knees with Lucille uneasily pulling herself to the end of the couch. A wicked smirk tugged at Negan’s lips when he realized that Lucille was needing a minute to regain her composure. “You alright sweetheart?”

“I just need a second,” she panted, holding her hand up in the air giving Negan a nod. Licking his lips, Negan nodded his head, his eyes locking with yours when he held his hand out.

“Come on honey,” Negan stood up from the couch, his cock near your eye level making you smile. Accepting his hand, Negan carefully led you to the couch leaning you back so that way you were resting your head in Lucille’s lap. It made Lucille smile when Negan managed to move in over you on the couch. Pushing your legs up over his arms, Negan looked between the two of you to line his cock up with your entrance again. Smacking forward had you gasping out when he filled you again. That was something you didn’t think you would ever get sick of. An arrogant smile followed after your response to having him inside of you again. “I think we found a good one mama. I think this one is going to fit with us perfectly fine.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Lucille commented, her fingers tracing over your face when Negan started to thrust into you again. Negan’s hands were braced firmly against the couch and your fingers were curled around his wrists. Everything in this moment felt more intimate. From Lucille’s fingertips sweeping over your face to Negan’s now, fluid and sturdy movements you knew that you could find yourself getting lost in all of this.

“You’ve been such a good girl over the last few days,” Negan praised you, his muted moans falling from his throat. “I can only imagine how sensitive your pussy is right now, but you’ve taken my dick so well darlin’.”

As Lucille’s thumb swept in over your bottom lip, you parted your lips and took the tip of it into your mouth. Nibbling at the pad of her thumb had Lucille breathing out in a long exhale, her eyes watching your facial expressions as Negan continued to fuck you. Sharp breaths and winces were falling from the both of you with Negan’s continuous, deep plunges inside of you.

“I’m going to come soon,” Negan announced, the lines in his forehead growing with his thrusts getting harder. The sounds of your skin smacking got louder and you clung harder to Negan’s wrists. Lowering her hand, Lucille’s fingertips found their way to your clitoris caressing over it in tempo with Negan’s thrusts. “Fuck…”

The vein at the side of Negan’s neck was prominent when he adjusted his positioning on the couch over you to be able to kiss you while he rolled his hips in a different fashion. With Lucille caressing at your body and Negan’s thrusts you could feel a fire building up in your abdomen. Rocking your hips against his movements felt amazing between the friction of both his cock and Lucille’s fingers. Shakily lifting your left hand you sank your fingers into Negan’s hair with your tongue brushing against his. Mewling out, your thighs tremored when the duo worked together to get you to another orgasm. With your body convulsing and clenching around his, it had Negan’s thrusts growing faster before he swiftly pulled his hips from yours to shakily stand up. Moving before both you and Lucille, Negan started furiously pumping away at his cock. Leaning forward Lucille took Negan into her mouth and Negan’s hips eagerly thrust his body into the warmth of her mouth.

Even through tremors you were able to push up on your palms to join Lucille. Taking turns, you watched Lucille’s eyes come to a tight close when Negan tossed his head back, his abdomen twitching when the first line of his come hit the back of her throat. Swallowing down, Lucille pumped her hand over Negan’s shaft before his dark eyes looked to you.

“Hold out your tongue baby,” Negan instructed and you did as he asked when he pulled his cock from Lucille’s lips with a wet sound. Stroking at the length of his cock had the last few ropes of his cum covering your tongue before you took him back into your mouth to get the rest of his release swallowed down. Gasping out, you felt your head being pulled back by Negan’s fingers and he gave you a wolfish smile. “Good girl.”

Stealing a final, possessive kiss from your lips, Negan tasted himself against your tongue and growled out when Lucille broke your kiss to get you to give her a final kiss. Snickering, Negan shakily moved down onto the couch beside you, pulling you close so you could both rest your heads in Lucille’s lap with his arm hooked tightly around your shoulders. Your legs were tangled together while Negan’s fingers stroked at your damp shoulder.

“How do you feel?” Lucille questioned with Negan peppering faint kisses over your jawline.

“Overstimulated and sore,” you were honest with a hesitant laugh hearing Negan chuckling against your flesh. “But good.”

“Does that mean you don’t want to do this again today?” Negan captured your jaw between his thumb and index finger. “Are you all tapped out?”

“That’s not what that means at all,” you laughed, shaking your head in response cuddling your head in against the side of his neck. Comfort flooded your body with the way that Lucille’s fingers swept at the back of your neck. “Everything I feel is worth it if I get to be between the two of you again.”

“And that’s what we like to hear,” Lucille assured you with a wink when you tipped your head back to stare out at her. You didn’t know what you did to get this lucky, but you weren’t going to question it. You were just going to appreciate everything you were given and that was that.

---

Tags: @slutlanna976​ @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @de-gabyconamor @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams  @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan​ @redmercysugar @caprithebunny​ @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune​ @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx  @haleygreen23​ @xhannahbananax03​ @sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight  @ayumi-wolf @hollyismentallyillhelp @promiscuousbarnes @tone-stark @lanadelnegan

[lovifie]

For my dear @lyralein (@support un-naughty my girl, you coward!!) and her mastermind of a mind, that came with the (correct) thought that Mr. Alex Keller would be a big shot at French porn. And et voilà! ✨The porn✨ (and when I say porn, I meant it. There is no plot.)

Monsieur Keller

Smut | 4320 words (Back to the masterlist)

Working for the CIA has granted Alex the opportunity to visit a multitude of countries, to meet unbelievable people and to push his limits on uncountable occasions.

In a couple too many times he has been at the verge of death, buildings collapsing, missiles flying a tad too close for his liking, friends turned enemies in the blink of an eye… But after all, that's what he signed up for.

Plus, sometimes, it also had some advantages.

Like meeting you.

And hearing your voice so sweetly call for him. “Monsieur, Keller!”

He whips his head around towards the sound of your voice like a dog well trained, turning to look at you standing on the porch of the little palace you lived in.

He drinks you in, standing barefoot on the first step of the short stair, pretty white summer dress accentuating every curve of your body and moving along the jiggle of your body as you effusively waved your hand at him.

He takes advantage of the distance, enough for you to not be able to tell the ungentlemanly places he rests his eyes at. The top of the dress, pulled to the center in a bow and pushing your boobs together calling him in like a siren's song.

He doesn't peel his eyes away from you, unable to do so; walking up to where you stand smiling like an angel upon him.

You shouldn't be calling him. The daughter of the owner of the wine yard shouldn't be talking to the lowest class of the employees. Alex's body is covered on a thin layer of sweat from working outside under the sun, hands grimey with dirt and clothes less than appropriate to be talking to you.

Still, when Alex slightly kicks the stairs to remove the loose dirt from his boots to not bring it inside, you are quick to jump at him, grabbing his hand and pulling him under the shade.

“You shouldn't be working at this time! It's too hot!” You reprimand him, the french accent obvious on your tone making him smile.

“Désolé, mademoiselle…” He attempts to excuse himself, cutting himself short when he sees the offended expression on your face at his french.

“Where did you say you are from again, monsieur Keller?” You ask, trying to switch the language to English again.

Alex looks at you, trying to remember what his last lie was so he can match it. “Quebec.”

You nod, raising your eyebrows at the doubt he is actually from Quebec but choosing to indulge him on his lie. You point to the washbowl on the table, a kind smile still on your face as you order him. “Wash your hands and face, I'll get us something to drink.”

And with that you disappear into the house, letting him the full view of your behind as you walk away. He turns again towards the bowl, using the fresh water to wash off the dirt from his face and hands, cleaning under his nails to make sure not a crumb of dirt has the chance to pollute you.

The door creaks when you open it again, a small tray on your hand that you quickly set on the table beside him. An unnecessary intricate jar full of iced lemon water with two just-as-intricate glasses beside it. But the first thing you grab is the small towel with your family initials embroidered in it.

He picks it up, patting his face and hands dry and checking he did a good job at cleaning himself before handing it back. You drop it on the table, slightly bending forward to pour the water on the glasses, and Alex's eyes are glued to the curve of your ass.

The heat of the summer hits you too, no matter how much of a local you are and he can tell by your clothing choices. The dress you are wearing is so dainty the beauty marks of your skin are visible through the fabric, as well as your lack of underwear.

It causes Alex to swallow a groan at his reaction over such a small detail when he feels his dick stir on his pants at the thought of pulling your dress up. His hand moves on its own, creeping closer and closer towards the flimsy material keeping the touch of your skin from him.

You turn around, filled glass in hand, jumping when you feel his hand rest on the curve of your hip but still, you look at him with the warmest smile on your face. You look down to where his hand is placed, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“So pretty…” He mumbles, grabbing the glass on your hand without moving his other hand.

“The dress?” You ask, warmth rising to your cheeks at his touch while you try not to break the contact with his blue eyes.

Alex furrowed his eyebrows for a second confused before softening his expression. “...yeah, pretty dress.”

He is the one to break eye contact, dragging his eyes over your body, down to the hem of your dress. He bends forwards, glass still on his hand as the other moves to rest right where the dress ends.

Teasingly, he walks his middle and pointer fingers up your thigh, flicking the skirt up with each step and exposing more bare skin of the leg, while you watch on with bated breath.

He looks at your face again, so he doesn't miss your expression when he finally lets the palm of his hand rest on the softness of your thigh; dangerously close to your core.

“Monsieur Ke- Monsieur Keller!” You call him, trying to sound scandalized when he starts to close his hand, the fat of your inner thigh being squeezed.

But no matter how appalled you try to look, leaning back against the table; Alex notices how you slightly pull your thighs together, pushing his hand towards the middle in the process.

He turns his wrist in one swift motion, with the palm of his hand resting on your cunt. Making you jump to wrap your hand around his wrist, keeping his hand between your thighs as you squeeze them together.

His index finger moves between your folds making you whine as you close your eyes, your hold on his wrist losing strength. It doesn't take long for him to feel wetness dribble over his digit. The feeling making you unclench your legs, allowing him more space between them.

The arousal slowly dripping from your core allows him to slide more easily his finger along your folds, making it easy for him to probe at your entrance, making you close your eyes as little moans and whimpers start to fall from your lips.

Such delicious sounds making him thirsty, but not for the glass of water on his hand. He tries to set it down on the table, but unable to peel his eyes from your pleasured expression he knocks it down making the water run over the surface of the table.

It snaps you out of it, finally pushing his hand away and you stand, turning around to pick up the glass. “I- I better clean it up.” You hurriedly say as you place the glass back on the tray as well as everything else on the table.

He tries to call your name when you turn, but his words die on the back of his throat when he sees the wet fabric of your dress stuck to your plush ass. And it is enough to have him walk behind you, following you inside the house and into the kitchen just a couple of steps behind you.

“You were right, I shouldn't have been working…” He says, making you turn once more with a surprised expression on your face. “I think I might be overheating, mademoiselle...”

You look up to him as he walks closer to you, unable to say anything, intoxicating on his proximity. And when his hands finally wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you against his hard chest and his lips crash against your, the only thing you can do is kiss him back.

He moves his hands up, cupping your face as he hums at the satisfaction of finally feeling your lips against his. Then takes one more step forwards, keeping you trapped between the countertop and his body.

You can feel his groin pressed against your abdomen, feeling it grow and harden with each swim of his hips against your body. The need to feel his skin under your touch making you pull his shirt out of his trouser so you can bury your hand under, your nails dragging over the firm muscle of his waist.

His lips pull apart from yours to kiss his way down your neck, sucking your taste in and letting his tongue roam flat against your skin, feeling your pulse rise up at his actions.

One of your hands moves to the back of his head, tangling your fingers with his hair as you push his face into your neck. “Alex…” You softly moan when his tongue presses on the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

He shushes you, smile appearing on his face. “Now, now, sunshine… Where did Monsieur Keller go?” He asks, pulling back, standing to his whole height as he lets his hands rest on the counter behind you, caging you in. “Let's not lose our manners, alright?”

You nod, mimicking his movements when he does; you mind already getting driven by your body and not your brain. You follow his gaze when he looks down and see his hands pulling your dress up again. He licks his lips at the sight of your thighs trembling with anticipation and he knows that if he pulled them apart they would be glossy with your arousal sliding down.

He chuckles when he sees you look so bashful, averting his eyes but still unable to look away from him, needing to see what his next move will be.

To your dissatisfaction, he lets the dress down; which makes you look at him with questioning doe eyes when he steps back. You are about to question the reason for his change of heart when you see him pull the chair from the kitchen table.

He turns it, sliding it until it's right in front of you. You look from the chair to his face, questioning his plan; and instead of answering your unspoken question he simply sits down, pushing it even more forward. He pulls your dress up again, stuffing the hem of the dress into your cleavage as if it was a napkin to keep it away from his meal.

He pushes down on your chest with the same movement making you lean back on the counter, propped up on your elbows and with a seamless movement, he slides his hands behind your knees and effortlessly moves then to rest over his shoulders.

The surprise of the movement combined with the way he presses his tongue flat against your folds takes every ounce of strength away from your body making you lay flat on your back.

He groans at the taste of your arousal on his tongue, his fingertips sinking into the fat of your thighs around his head when he dives in again. Sliding his tongue between your folds, catching at your clit with a flick.

It makes your thigh tremble, threatening to close; which only encourages him further. Repeating the motion, feeling them flex on each side of his head; his hearing getting muffled with each stripe he licks.

But no matter how tightly you suffocate his skull between them, he can still hear loud and clear the moans and whines dripping from your lips.

He finally opens his eyes, not even aware that he had closed them as soon as he got a taste, letting the rest of his senses enjoy your body. But once he opens his eyes, he can't close them back.

From between your legs, the first thing he sees is your abdomen flexing at the feeling of his mouth lapping at your clit, your back arching at the attack of his tongue. The dress that he so carelessly stuffed on itself, sliding out of your cleavage with your movements. He wishes he could undo the bow keeping your boobs from his prying eyes, but not yet, not when he can prolong it and savor every minute for longer.

The only thing he doesn't love it's that he can't see your face, your head falling back; only letting him see your chin. He wishes he could see your face, see the product of his work in the shape of a pleasured expression just the way he's listening. But he'll see it later, when he's buried deep into you.

For now, he buries his tongue as deep as he cans into your cunt, feeling your inner walls clamp down on it when his nose rubs against your clit deliciously as he shakes his head. It makes you spread your legs, urging him deeper with a hand on his head. You manage to prop yourself on your free elbow, looking down at him. With your fingers tangled on his brunette hair and his fingers digging into the meat of your thigh to keep you close.

His pupils are blown, two black voids looking at you when you finally manage to make eye contact with him for a fraction of a second; before it is the last drop throwing you over the edge.

Your legs closing against his head again, unable to muffle the moan of his name as you come down from your high. His head is pressed so tightly against your cunt he can't even breath, but he would so gladly die there.

The moment your legs free his head he pulls back just enough to breathe, inhaling your smell in the way. He kisses the inner side of your tight leaving a wet spot and then stands again, standing between your legs licking his lips like an animal after eating.

The sight of your body, sprawled and fucked under him, get his dick impossibly harder. Then you raise your hand, using your thumb to collect the juices left on his mustache and before you can pull your hand back to lick it yourself, he grabs your wrist keeping it close and sucks your finger into his mouth. His scorching hot tongue cleaning the juices from your hand without breaking eye contact, it makes you whimper softly; cupping his face with your thumb still inside his mouth and you pull him closer.

“Monsieur Keller…” You whine, calling him like a moth to a light. “Please…”

“I know, love, I know.” He says once he pulls your finger out and he kisses you softly, tasting yourself on his tongue. His hands find their way around your waist pulling you closer and you circle his hips with his legs.

He picks you up, just for a second before sitting back down on the chair with you on his lap. Your hands rest on his shoulders, being you the one to kiss him this time. He can feel you grind your hips against him, the softest whine falling from your lips at the feel of the rough material of his jeans against your sensible cunt.

He moves his hand down, undoing his belt so he can pull his length free. You wish you could see it, but the dress serves as a tent when it slaps against his abdomen. The little wet spot of his seed turning translucent the fabric so you can see the red tip underneath, angry with the lack of attention.

You raise your hips, letting him slap his length against your folds; your arousal getting it slicked and desperate for the feeling of your warm walls engulfing him like a vice.

But he's not the only one desperate for it, and the moment his tip catches on your entrance you pull down in a swift motion taking all of him in, moaning into each other's mouths at the feeling. His hands rests on your hips, keeping you in place.

“Stay there for me, sweetheart.” He moans, head falling back over the backrest of the chair. “Just keep it in for me, fuck…”

His hips move in the smallest thrust, the movement would pass unnoticed if it wasn't for how deep it reaches inside of you. He finally pulls his head back up, coming face to face with your chest. And no matter how pretty the dress is or how good it looks on you, it's the only thing keeping him from seeing you and it's time it goes away.

His hands grab each side of the bow, easily getting it undone and groaning when your boobs finally spill over. He hugs your middle, burying his face between your breasts taking your aroma in before he starts to lap at them.

Licking, sucking and biting every centimeter, his hips immobile making you whine pathetically at the delicious torture of both his attention and the lack of it.

You whine his name again, needing more than just his mouth on your chest. “I know, I know, sweetheart. Just let me taste you some more…” He tries to say, words dying down on his throat when you begin to move your hips.

“T-tu… tu es… trés…” He tries to say again, so enamored with the feel of your tight cunt around his cock it makes him switch languages.

He doesn't get to finish his attempt before you push your hand over his mouth, pushing his head back. “Enough with the shitty French, Monsieur Keller…” You moan, the feeling of his length hitting every sweet spot inside of you getting ruined by his continuous butchering of your language.

He apologised against your hand, doing it again when you beg him to fuck you, your thighs getting tired of the cramped position. He pulls your dress up, pulling it off your body, finally having you completely exposed to him. His hands roam your body, getting distracted from his original plan.

Only remembering when you whine his name again, picking you up to lay you down on the kitchen table like the most precious and delicate piece of art. You prop yourself up on your elbows, looking at him with lust and hunger in your eyes.

He spreads your legs, laying his dick flat against your folds, sliding it in between making the two of you moan softly. It finally gives you the chance to catch a glimpse of his length.

The droplet of precum slowly falls over your mount of venus when he glides forwards, allowing you to see the glistering layer of your arousal mixing with his.

He moves you to lay on your side, moving your leg up, your knee almost touching your shoulder when you prop yourself up on your elbow. And at the same time he buries himself to the hilt, the double stretch making your mouth fall open as you look at him, a deaf moan waiting to be spilled.

“Big stretch, sweetheart “ He grunts as he sets himself inside of you, bending down to kiss your open mouth. He might have already been inside of you when you were both sitting down, but the new position has you feeling it all again as if he didn't.

The moan finally comes to life when his hand meets his shaft, collecting the fluids flooding for your cunt to wet his thumb and rubbing soft circles around your clit. You moan his name, your hand grabbing his shirt to ground yourself.

“Fucking hell, sunshine… Taking me so fucking good…” He moans, hiding his face on the crook of your neck. “Fuck… This cunt was fucking made to take me, love. Fucking perfect, you are. My fucking perfect sunshine.”

His thrusts start to pick up the pace, the sound of skin slapping on skin getting louder and louder; only overshadowed by the song of moans falling from one mouth to the other.

He is still almost completely dressed, his pants still over the curve of his ass. So slowly sliding down with each snap of his hips, the belt clinking with each movement. It works as proof of his desperation to be inside, no matter how uncomfortable the clothes are, it is not worth it wasting time on taking it off.

Not when your cunt is sucking him in so deliciously, each rub at your hooded clit making you clench around him; urging him impossibly deeper. His shaft dragging along your wall, caressing each and every sweet spot inside of you.

It has you closing your eyes with your eyebrows furrowed, an expression that would make him think you were in pain if it wasn't by the loud moans of his name leaving your lips like a mantra.

“Open your eyes, please, sweetheart… Look at me, love.” He moans, moving his free hand to cup your face so you will look at him. Resting his forehead against yours, your breath hitting his chin. “I wanna see your pretty face when you cum, sweetheart, please.”

You finally open your eyes, looking right into his when he slightly moves back and it is like an arrow went through his heart. He notices how your free hand grabs the arm on your face, not wanting to let escape any kind of contact and his heart melts when he notices you lay your face on his hand, kissing his palm.

Such a small gesture that has his blood rushing to his head making the tip of his ears blush, as if he wasn't balls deep into you. But he feels his ball tighten with the want for release, and he can't miss the opportunity to feel you come undone around his dick.

So using every ounce of self restraint he pulls the hand from your face away, moving it back to where you are connected, rubbing his thumb over your clit making you mewl.

He can feel you get tighter and tighter as your orgasm approaches, making it harder for him to move freely at the immensely pleasurable feeling.

It's only when he finally feels you unclench, your head falling back in a silent cry and your legs shaking slightly; that he feels you cum, your arousal spurting out of your drenched cunt with each thrust of his hips.

He groans, having missed your fuck out expression when you let your head fall and deprived him of the desired sight. So he moves his hand from your clit, moving it to the back of your head to move it forward so you look right at him.

And you look so beautiful, if he died right there he would die happy, so he can't help himself when he bends forwards, kissing you sloppy and nasty with his horny brain.

The last thrusts of his hips hard and deep making you bounce and whine, moaning softly and long when you feel him spill deep inside of you. A shiver running down your spine at the warm sensation, your hand on his shirt falling down to help you support yourself.

And it's when you pull apart from the kiss, hair sticking to your forehead from the sweat, your chest rising at an unsteady pace and your cunt still pulsing around his length that he realizes how deep under his skin you have buried yourself.

He can't keep living like this, not able to sleep in the same bed as you every night, waiting for another opportunity like this, hoping everyday will be the day. He needs to see your smile everyday, to have your number, for you to have his surname, everything. Absolute smitten with you, enamored even. Falling so deep in love after such a short period of time, his heart aching at the thought of pulling away, how could he not love you when you are so obviously his soulmat-

“D'accord! That was a good one, let's wrap everything up, tout le monde!” The director shouts, bringing the situation down on Alex.

He suddenly realizes everyone around the two of you, the cameras, the crew, the assistants, the director.

The whole vineyard owner's daughter plot of the porn movie was a bit odd from the beginning, but when he laid his eyes on him he didn't give a damn about the plot.

Being a CIA agent had made Alex live in strange situations, but starring on a porn movie in a foreign country had to be the top one.

He barely remembers how this was related with the mission, something about some suspicious money being moved along with the crew. But in all honesty, he would also move all his money after you.

Especially when you clench for a last time around his girth, the aftershock of you orgasm that makes him groan as he finally pulls out. “Sorry” The two of you mumble, chuckling at the echo and blushing like you didn't just fuck eachother brains off.

He helps you stand back on your feet, his hands resting on your waist and unable to peel his eyes away from your face.

“Are you alright, Alex?” You ask, rubbing his biceps in a consoling way.

And you look at him so softly, almost unaffected by the whole ordeal, that it sends Alex into a spiral. Were those noises you were making real? Was the way you were clinging onto his shoulder true? Would you moan his name just like you moaned his surname?

He needed to know the answer to those questions, and there was only one way to find out.

“Y-Yeah, don't worry about it, love.” He says making you smile wider. “But I was wondering… do you know any good restaurants in the area? Maybe one you wouldn't mind having dinner at with me?”

[jflemings]

— yard sale

pairing: alessia russo x reader

synopsis: you pack up your life and move far away from the supposed love of you life

warnings: just lots of angst

୧ ‧₊˚ 📦 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

I put a sign on a telephone pole with the address below I wrote the time and I circled in bold, everything must go

you knew that it was time for you to leave. you and alessia's relationship had crumbled from beneath your feet quickly and mercilessly. one day you two were happy and planning a future and the next you were throwing her out and telling her that you never wanted to see her again.

so here you were, sitting out front of your place with a dingy clothes rack and boxes of all your meaningless things ready to sell so that you could pack up your life in london and get the fuck out.

a pair of young teenage girls hand you some clothes, a pair of shoes and a necklace along with the money to pay. you smile gratefully and put the items in a plastic bag before waving them goodbye, not noticing the figure standing a little bit away from where you were sitting. the head of blonde hair isn't the thing that catches your eye, it's the pair of arsenal trackies she's wearing. your eyes travel from the number six on her pants all the way up to her face where her eyes are boring into you.

you curtly nod and attempt to distract yourself with putting some other shirts on hangers when she slowly makes her way over. leah tucks her hands in the pocket of her jumper and digs her toe in the ground, her head hung low like she’s thinking.

sneaking a glance at her you clear your throat “leah”

“hey” she says surprised like she wasn’t expecting you to see her standing right in front of you “bit of spring cleaning?”

you half smirk and grab more hangers from the box next to you “moving. i don’t want to take everything”

the lioness captain stands up straight “you’re moving? where to?”

“chicago”

“oh wow. so far away”

you roll your eyes “you here to buy something or just to look around?” your patience is quickly wearing thin every moment she tries to make small talk. it wasn’t really like leah, the few times you’d hung out with her in a group setting she always had a purpose for a conversation. it wasn’t that she necessarily hated small talk, she just wasn’t good at it. at all.

“honestly i came to see how you were doing” she scratches the back of her neck “i saw the sign and, y’know”

nodding your head, you smile at another girl handing you money for a black dress that alessia had convinced you to buy when you were her date for an event. it was classy and sleek, and you remembered the feeling of alessia’s hands all over you through the night. you watch the girl go wistfully before directing your attention back to the footballer.

“thanks, really, but it wasn’t needed. i’m fine”

you know that leah sees right through you but she doesn’t argue, instead excusing herself and giving a tight lipped smile to people she passes as she walks back to her car. you watch her trot across the street to her car. she practically throws the door open and slides in hastily, like she had suddenly remembered that she needed to be somewhere.

before she drove off you heard her phone ring through the bluetooth in her car. if it wasn’t so loud you wouldn’t have heard the very familiar ‘hello’ from the other end of the line.

Every perfect memory Stacked in boxes on the street Take what's left of you and me

when leah told alessia that you were packing up your whole life and moving, she almost couldn’t believe it. for three straight nights after that conversation she had laid in bed tossing and turning and trying to convince herself that it wasn’t real, that you weren’t moving thousands of kilometres away from her.

one morning before an early training session she drove past your flat. she remembers how cold it was, and how even her fleece jumper couldn’t stop her from shivering as she turned down your street.

the movers outside your place made her stomach turn. she thought she was going to throw up when she saw you putting boxes into the back of the van with a smile on your face. you were happily chatting to one of the movers and she could tell just by the way you were smiling that you were excited.

the possibility that you were going to be happy without her in your life makes her speed down the rest of your street. she calls in sick to training that day and doesn’t answer leah or kyra’s texts.

leah doesn’t have to ask her what’s wrong when she turns up at her front door later that day. the tears on alessia’s sweatshirt tell leah everything she needs to know.

I tried to call but you didn't call back to come and get you things I thought about just striking a match but it's hard to burn a memory

you had called and texted her so that she could come and get the things she didn't take with her when you threw her out. despite your best efforts to be the bigger person, the striker didn't once get back to you, instead leaving you on delivered and sending you straight to voicemail.

you gave up quickly after that, choosing to pack up your life around the small pile of things that sat in the corner of your quickly emptying bedroom. you packed her belongings into a cardboard box and labelled it ALESSIA, the black marker you used to do so feathering and squeaking.

you packed it into storage with the rest of your belongings and left it with everything you weren’t able to take with you to chicago. you had thought about burning her things, just simply throwing them into the bonfire pit in your small backyard, but you knew that it didn’t matter what you did with her things. the memories would linger.

Every empty picture frame All the shit that I tried to save Name your price, you can have my pain

one way you decided to cope was by taking every photo that you had framed of the two of you and throwing it out.

you balled them up and threw them in the trash without a second thought, not once sparing a glance and alessia’s smiling face as you tossed her away. you ended up donating all the empty frames to your local thrift, and whatever couldn’t be donated ended up thrown out.

every photo was a memory of what once was. each holiday, anniversary and special moment had been captured and put behind glass for what you thought would be forever. alessia had grown fond of decorating the walls of both of your places with photos of the two of you. her entry hall had been a shrine to your relationship and people would often comment how lucky the both of you were to have found eachother.

everlasting love was something that you had once believed in, something that you once treated as gospel. it was hard to deal with the fact that you had suddenly lost belief in it. in her.

It's time to empty out the place (hey!) I used to love but now I hate

you had gotten so incredibly lucky with your flat. rent was a decent price, it was close to work, within walking distance from a quaint little bookshop and it only took lessi six minutes to get from her place to yours.

it was a dream for you, one that you quickly embraced. you made your place your own with small touches of yourself around the place. from the decor, to the furniture, even to the way things were laid out. your place was definitely yours.

slowly but surely you emptied the home you once loved. took down the pictures, sold the furniture and tossed anything that made you think of your ex. you hollowed out your home and carved a hole into your heart, mercilessly hacking away pieces of yourself that no longer fit who you were.

now as you stand with your hand on the doorknob to your front door, the ghost of memories prance through the empty halls and past you like you’re watching your own memories back on a tv.

it hurt to leave but it hurt more to know that there was nothing you could’ve done to prevent you and alessia ending the way you did.

All the love is, all the love is gone

[sp0o0kylights]

"I feel him." El insists. "Alive." 

She hasn't said his name since Will first raised them all over the walkie, but every person in the room knows who she means. 

Not that Steve can say his name either.

"But we watched him die." Nancy says gently, before Dustin properly loses it from where he sits in the corner. "Owen's even sent someone back through to check." 

"Yes." El agrees, but it's clear she's frustrated. "He died here. But he's not alive here, he's alive over there." 

"In the Upside Down?" Steve asks, and pretends his voice isn't cracking with desperation and barely concealed hope.

"No!" El snaps, before taking a deep breath and collecting herself to try again. "Through the other gate." 

"Okay." Hopper cuts in, hands waving in some kind of "stay calm" gesture. "El, honey, I think we're all still hung up about the other gate." He pauses, before adding. "And how Creel dying opened it." 

El gives him a thousand yard stare. 

"I'm getting the crayons." Joyce sighs as she stands up. In a mutter she continues, "Should have gotten them to begin with." 

Silently, Steve agrees. 

xXx Eddie xXx

It goes like this.

A bat breaks through the side of the trailer. It swoops low, teeth rattling, but it doesn't attack. 

It emits an odd, echoing screech, before  flying through the gate, to the Rightside-Up. 

"Shit." Dustin curses wildly. "Shit, they're gonna try and invade!" 

"I thought they were guarding the gate!" Eddie protests, as that echoing scream returns tenfold, coming from the mouths of too many demobats. “If they wanted to invade wouldn’t they have done that already!?” 

"No, because Vecna was focused on opening more gates! This must be his plan--to open enough gates to push an army through. We have to lead them away!"

"Dustin-!" Eddie calls out desperately, but finds himself overwhelmed by bats as more and more break through. 

He fights through them, trying to get to Dustin, trying to listen to what the kid’s screaming.

He can’t hear him.

Not over all the screeching, the beating bat wings and the thudding noises as they smack at his head. Their teeth snap, tearing into every piece of him they can reach.

Eddie doesn’t know how long he’s been surrounded, but he hears the trailer door bang open--and shut.

"Dustin!" He screams this time, voice as loud as he can make it.

The kid’s faster than he is.

He’d planned this--or at least, had thought about it long enough to get himself a solid head start, leaving Eddie scrambling after. 

Fighting through the torrents of bats. Abandoning the gate because Hawkins can burn for all he cares--but there are people who don't deserve to go down with it.

People like Henderson, who have bright futures ahead of them.

Eddie tears his way towards Dustin, unthinking, just running.

‘Stupid, stupid, stupid-!’ He thinks, but not at Dustin. 

At himself, because he knows the kid. Knows what to expect from how he acts in games. 

Steve even called it--and Eddie’s not stupid enough to think he was talking to both of them when he warned them about not being a hero. He was included purely because Dustin would fuss otherwise and they were short on time.

Dustin’s on the ground when Eddie finds him, and he whips his spear at the few dozen bats that attack him, their bodies circling, teeth biting. 

He gets in two good hits before shit hits the fan. 

To his right something explodes, flames high and reaching, a thunderous boom whipping out so loud that Eddie's ears ring. 

A shockwave nearly takes him off his feet, bandana pulled from his head and freeing his hair. 

Eddie crashes on the ground next to Dustin.

 Sees all the blood and doesn't know what to do. 

"Come on man." Eddie pleads. "Come on!" 

He doesn't get an answer. 

It goes like this.

Vecna’s dead. 

The blast that killed him was from some kind of explosion that took out all of Creel House. 

It fireballed skyward, and the Upside Down rapidly began doing….something, seconds after. 

Returning, Eddie decides, to whatever it was before the asshole got thrown in here. 

Or dying, maybe.

(This is easier to think about than the fact that no one could have survived that blast. That there's a black hole Eddie can see, and it has to wrap miles and miles around the Creel House because he's still near his trailer.

It the trees down the stupid hill didn't make it then Robin, and Nancy, and Steve--

He stops. Shakes his head.

If Eddie thinks about it, it will make it real. 

He can't let it be real.),

The monsters all fall as one, dropping to the ground like puppets with cut strings. 

Eddie had been pummeled by a few demobat bodies before he could get clear, though given how some still occasionally twitch and hop around weakly after, Vecna's death doesn't necessarily equal their own.

Madly, he crushes a few beneath his boots. 

Knows that won't bring his friends back. 

Stomps on a few more because he can't do anything about that, and he can't cry any harder.

It goes like this.

Eddie gets back topside to find Vecna's revenge in action.

 It's an act worthy of a mad god, not that Eddie would ever give him such a title. 

Hawkins wasn't split. It was consumed, with large portions falling deep into the earth that opened under it. Smoke chokes half the town from an outburst of fires, while downed trees and electrical lines make walking a chore. 

The road is a cracked and pitted mess, littered with holes large enough to swallow entire cars. 

Passage is nigh impossible by car, and downright dangerous by foot.

It makes Eddie want to sink to his knees in despair.

There were still people around, that first day. 

There were still people around the second and fifth days too. 

But then the monsters appear. 

They're not the demobats, or demodogs or even the demogorgons that Eddie was told of. 

They're something--else.

Mutated and mutating, taking on appearances that reflect both the Upside Down and the Right-Side Up (a term coined by one of the freshmen--Eddie can't recall which.) 

Actual flowers, great purple and orange looking blooms sprout teeth and attack. Vines stick out of arcade cabinets, carting them around like a hermit crabs shell. 

Some people breathe the falling little pieces of ash and suddenly aren't people anymore.

(It was Erica, who had coined the term. The Right-Side Up. 

Erica who was also deceased, because the fucking explosion didn't just take out the Upside Down version of the Creel house, but the real one too. 

Which meant Max and Lucas and Erica…

But Eddie's not thinking about that.)  

It goes like this.

Wayne's gone.

He'd been at the plant when the Earth had swallowed it, his first day back to work because he'd used all his PTO trying to find Eddie.

The coworker who watched it happen makes sure to tell Eddie his uncle insisted he was innocent. That the old man never stopped looking.

Likewise, the trailer is gone. 

It fell barely a day after Eddie had climbed out of it, one half eaten while the other teetered dangerously on the edge.

There's cops at the borders of the city. 

They’re been commandeered by the military and the feds both, and people in heavy gear prowl around like guard dogs just waiting to be let off leash.

Helicopters fill the air, always circling and searching. Units of men and women begin parading around with guns as they escort tanks and other battle equipment through the streets. 

They're looking for something besides the monsters, and they're happy to cut the phone lines and police the survivors to find it.

No one's allowed in--or out. 

Eddie tries to escape the first few days, after he realizes everyone who knew the truth is gone. 

Thinks maybe he can get to the Byers, and that super powered girl out in California, but keeps getting cut off.

Twice they've nearly caught him, which means twice Eddie has been forced to come to terms with the fact that he's one of the things they're after.

They know him by name.

They know he was involved in Creel's takedown.

Eddie"s not just being hunted by the town now. 

He’s being hunted by the United States as a whole. 

It goes like this.

Eddie doesn't want to die. 

Can't bring himself to take his own life, forever too much of a coward. 

So he berates himself while he hides.

Wonders what the fuck his plan is here. 

Focuses on surviving, stealing food, sleeping in people he loves houses and hoping maybe some of them made it out.

(Given how Gareth's and Jeff's places are both untouched, he doesn't think they did.) 

He’s never prayed before but now he’s praying to every deity he can think of. Hoping, wishing, that if he can’t get out alive, he at least goes down quickly. 

It goes like this.

Steve Harrington walks out of the woods with a nailbat in his hands, like a blood soaked fever dream. 

Eddie doesn't care. 

He hugs him so hard his own ribs hurt and the crazy thing is Steve hugs him back even harder. 

"You're alive." Eddie sobs, face buried in Steve's shoulder.,"You're alive, you're alive…" 

Steve grips him for a moment before whispering back; "And so are you." 

He pulls away and Eddie struggles against him, not ready to let go, fingers grasping at his shirt. 

Steve strokes his hair, his stupid tangled, gross hair and Eddie looks at him, desperately needing the contact to prove that Steve is real. 

That he’s here. 

 "I need you to listen--I'm not your Steve." Steve says, and Eddie’s so desperate for contact that the words don’t register for a moment. 

Not that they make sense when they do. 

"What?" Eddie asks. 

"There’s a--okay.” Steve sighs, before saying; “I am going to absolutely blow the explanation, but I need you to trust me.”

“I do.” Eddie says, even as Steve fulfills his own prophecy, and gives a completely nonsensical explanation.

At the end of it, Eddie can’t bring himself to care. 

As long as he has Steve back--even if it’s not technically his Steve, Eddie will follow him wherever he goes.

[femalefemur]

Stranger in the Woods.

this is an 18+ fic, minors do not interact!

warnings: dub con, bears, hybrid John Price, please let me know if I missed anything!

word count: 1.6k

synopsis: you take a walk in the woods and get lost, bear shifter John Price finds you and takes what's his.

A/N: finally finished this, this came from a dream I had and desperately needed to write down, I also don't write smut often, it is what it is, reader has a vagina but no pronouns are used.

The day was beautiful, golden sun shining bright in the azure sky, white clouds floating by like soft pillows high in the heavens as you stared wistfully out of your window. It was much too beautiful of a day to be inside despite the pile of housework you had to do so you grabbed your knapsack. You filled your water bottle and packed trail mix, along with a sandwich and the reddest apple you had before heading out. 

You walked past your neighbour’s house, glancing at their windchime as it tinkled on their front porch and the flowers lining the walkway up to their house that were in full bloom, their scent wafting through the warm summer air. You kept walking, past the other houses filled with laughter and people in their yards enjoying the warm sunshine. You passed them with a small wave and smile as you continued on your way. Soon there were no houses lining the path, only the occasional car passing you by as you headed towards the woods. You stopped at the dirt parking lot to take a sip of your water before continuing on and into the woods. 

The woods were calm, the sound of insects trilling and birds occasionally chirping filled your ears as you walked down the path. Your eyes drifted down towards the beautiful, green ferns that grew on the forest floor and covered it like a delicate blanket. There were small flowers that sprouted through the gaps in the ferns, a smattering of colour throughout the endless green of the forest. The sight eased your mind and made you forget about all your responsibilities for a few blissful moments. You felt as though you belonged there in the wild amongst the animals, as if the forest was calling to you, a home that would envelop you in the warm earth and take away your troubles. The thought made you stop for a while, standing there in the middle of the forest as you stared out into the sea of trees, your fingers digging softly into the rough bark of the tree you stood beside as you lost yourself to thought. 

By the time you had realised you’d stepped off the path and wandered deeper into the forest it was too late. Your mind had been elsewhere and your legs had moved on their own until you stood in the middle of nowhere. You had no map and no compass, you had gotten rid of the compass app on your phone when you had first bought it, and there was no reception so that you could redownload it. You felt foolish for having gone into the woods with nothing but food and water, your lower lip caught between your teeth as you glanced around and tried to ascertain a way back to the path. You started walking again in a direction that you hoped was north, picking the route by the position of the sun in the sky, hoping that you remembered enough of your survival training to be right about your choice of direction. 

You hadn’t walked very far when you noticed it, a large brown bear meandering through the forest, seemingly unaware that you were there. It made you freeze where you stood, trying not to make any noise to draw attention to yourself as you watched it carefully and noticing how it had its nose to the ground as it sniffed around. Your heart pounded in your chest as it started walking in your direction, your legs seemingly unwilling to move as you swallowed the lump in your throat before forcing yourself to slowly move to the tree on your left, gently removing your backpack and crouching in an almost laying down position on the ground. You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to see if it found you and the horror that would surely follow, your face buried in your hands as you bit your fingers to stop any sound that would leave your mouth. You heard it walk closer, the heavy steps of its paws echoing in your ears as you stayed where you were, now frozen in fear as you waited for whatever your fate may be. 

Then suddenly there was a nose prodding at you, it made you stiffen in surprise as you bit down harder on your fingers. The nose bumped into your arse before prodding at your thighs and pussy before you felt a clawed paw tear at your pants and flip you over. Your eyes met the cornflower blue ones that stared down at you, surprise written all over your face as you looked at the man, not a bear, before you. There were tiny bear ears atop his head that made your brows furrow in confusion before he was nosing at your pussy again, glancing up at you from between your legs as you tried to push him back and squirm away. Your actions only resulted in him throwing an arm over you and pulling you closer, groaning into your cunt as he lapped at you like a starved man, his fingers digging into your flesh and his tail twitching in excitement. Your face felt hot with embarrassment, you don’t know when you’d started to grind up against the stranger’s face but you’d realised when you felt your orgasm building, like a string slowly pulling taut as his eyes keenly watched your every reaction. His tongue ran over your dripping cunt, delving into your warm walls as his nose nudged at your clit and his beard grazed the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, sucking at your clit as he watched you get closer to your peak. His tongue rolled over the swollen bud as the string snapped and you came, slick dribbling from your hole and covering his face.

“Been a long time since I’ve had such a satisfying meal” he spoke, face still buried between your legs as he sucked at your clit and made your hips buck and try to squirm away, still sensitive from your orgasm. 

“Please, no more” You whined, pushing at his head as tears formed in your eyes, the overstimulation becoming too much. 

A gruff chuckle left his mouth, reverberating against your pussy before he lifted his head and crawled over you. His hands ripped your shirt with ease before he was rolling your nipples between his fingers and slotting his mouth against yours. The kiss was anything but gentle, his tongue pushing into your mouth and lapping at the taste of you as if he were devouring your very being, his saliva trickling into your mouth as you kissed and his fat cock grinding against your wet folds. You were panting by the time the kiss broke, a mess of saliva and your own juices smeared across your lips and face while he lapped at your skin with a soft groan. His tongue licked down your cheek and along your jaw, leaving a wet trail behind before he was pulling back to push your legs up to your chest with a feral grin on his face. Your pussy clenched at the thought of his thick cock inside you, slick drooling from your hole as you stared up at him with hazy eyes and his heavy cock tapped against your aching clit. The stretch as he pushed in was delicious, the thickness of him making you feel impossibly full, your eyes rolling back as he bottomed out.

“There you go, so good for me, hm, taking me so well” he praised you, pressing soft kisses to your calves as his fingers rubbed at where you were both connected, marvelling at the way you stretched around him as a soft whimper left your lips. 

All you could do was nod as he thrust into you, punching the air out of your lungs with a smile on his lips and his teeth nipping at your legs. He pushed them closer to you as he loomed over you, the position making his cock feel even deeper inside you as his fingers slipped into your open mouth, hooking into your lower jaw and giving a small tug with each thrust. The feeling of it all made your brain feel hazy and cloudy. The feeling of him so deep inside you, the thatch of dark hair at the base of his cock brushing against your clit with each thrust, his fingers in your mouth, his beard against your skin. It was all too much, too good, too heavenly and it made you cum so hard you were sure you saw God. 

He kept going, fucking you through your second orgasm like an animal in heat as you drooled around his fingers and watched him. He was beautiful, beard glistening with your slick, thick, dark hair covering his chest and trailing down his torso to his pubes, soft ears and tail twitching with each thrust. The hair on his arms was just as dark and thick and a thin sheen of sweat covered him as the sun shone down on him like he was being kissed by it, making him seem ethereal. There was a soft clicking from how wet your cunt was as he fucked into you, the look in his eyes animalistic and hungry as he picked up his pace. The increased pace making you moan and whine, squirming as if you could escape when his thumb found your clit and circled it.

“Come on sweetheart, one more for me, you can do that can’t you?” He cooed down at you, grinning as you nodded and sniffled, tears of pleasure welling in your eyes as he rubbed your clit faster. 

Your third orgasm ripped through you like it was wrenching you from your body, like your very atoms were being ripped apart and put back together by this man above you. He followed shortly after, hot, sticky cum flooding your walls and branding you as his, his to love, to care for, to fuck until his balls were empty, his to keep in this forest that had swallowed you whole.

[redroomreflections]

Not Easily Broken Chapter 2

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and Reader go through a tragic divorce

Masterlist | General Masterlist

2/10

Note: Yes, it's getting finished besties

W/c: 3.8k

You’re late. You’re really late. Not even just an ‘oh I got stuck in traffic I’ll be there late”. You’re the “I hope my daughter doesn’t hate me and harbor those feelings the rest of her life late.” As you bob and weave through traffic in your BMW SUV you curse to yourself. You feel stupid. Very stupid. There’s no way you can ever make up for this but you can certainly try to.

As you pull onto the street of what was once your home you squint just a little to see how many people are still there. You can see the cars lining the street start to dissipate as you pull into the driveway. Natasha is on the porch talking to one of the people you recognize from Emma’s dance class. She spots you, rolling her eyes and angling herself, so you’re not in her vision. Parking the car, you look over to the passenger’s seat where Emma’s gift is wrapped in yellow paper (her favorite color) and a bright pink bow. You turn the car off with a sigh. You really did it this time. You unbuckle your seatbelt and reach over to grab the present and exit. You walk slowly up the pathway marveling at all of the decorations that Natasha has put up for Emma’s fifth birthday.

Five. Your baby girl is five and you’ve missed her birthday party. One Natasha had gracefully invited you to. Briefly, your mind flashes back to the mornings where you and Natasha would wake the little girl up with breakfast in bed. Mini pancakes, strawberries, her favorite juice. You would go the whole nine yards for her. Now you’ve done everything but that. You reach the edge of the steps with a small wave to Natasha’s guests.

“Kerry, Doug, nice to see you again.” You give them a tight smile hoping to appear calm even though don’t feel that way.

“I’ll call you,” Natasha says bidding them goodbye. She doesn’t speak until they’re down the path and in their car. She trails her eyes over to you still in your work clothes with an apologetic look on your face. “Unbelievable.” She scoffs turning to go inside the house. You follow after her with an apology at the tip of your tongue. She starts collecting the trash she sees around the living room.

“I’m sorry, I got sidetracked at work,” You begin.

“You don’t have to apologize to me.” She shrugs. Pushing her hair behind her ear she glances at you. “I’m not the one turning five and I’m not your wife.” Something about the last part of that statement strikes you right in the heart. The divorce has been finalized for eight months now. Eight months and you’ve barely seen each other. Only during pickups and drop-offs. Even then you barely speak. Hearing her voice is...nice. Even if she is angry with you.

“I know but I’m really making an ass of myself,” You shake your head. “Where is she?”

“Backyard,” She answers.

“She must hate me,” You mutter more to yourself.

“She doesn’t hate you,” Natasha walks to the kitchen and again you follow. “She’s just really confused on why her Mommy said she would be here and wasn’t.” She gives another wave to one of the last guests and they trickle out of the house.

“Yeah,” You say following closely behind her. She stuffs the trash into the bin carefully.

As she stands to her full height you take a second to look at her. She’s gorgeous. Her hair flows behind her back longer than she’s ever let herself allow it to. Her eyes are just as expressive and beautiful. God, you’ve missed her.

You open your mouth to speak but you’re interrupted when a familiar figure steps into view. Richard Matthews. An agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Natasha’s new partner. He accompanies the Avengers on missions every now and again. You’re not exactly sure why but he’s always paired up with Natasha on missions and it never really bothered you until now.

“Everything’s all set with the kiddos,” Richard says to her. He completely ignores you and you can’t really tell if that’s intentional. The way he steps into Natasha’s space makes you think they’re closer than she’s letting on. “Emma’s having a blast with the new American doll I got. Says she’s gonna sleep with it tonight.” He smiles down at Natasha. “Will you be okay here? Ryan helped me with a lot of the backyard so there’s not much else to clean.”

“Yeah, I got it.” Natasha nods glancing over at you. She can see how uncomfortable Richard makes you feel. “Thank you, Richard.” She raises her hand to rest lightly on his bicep. You narrow your eyes. Clearing your throat they both look towards you.

“Oh, y/n, I didn’t see you there.” Richard feigns innocence.

“I’m sure you didn’t, Dick.” You say with every ounce of disdain. You can see Natasha’s lips quirk in amusement but she quickly hides it.

“Well, I’m gonna go.” He says before giving her a kiss on the cheek. He lingers before walking past you towards the front door. You two don’t break eye contact until he’s gone.

“That guy is a real tool,” You roll your eyes.

“He’s nice and he’s a part of the team.” Natasha shrugs. She steps over to the sink to do the dishes giving you the idea that this entire conversation is over. You want to ask her if she’s seeing him. If he’s more than just her partner. You’re not entitled to any of those answers and Natasha won’t be afraid to tell you.

“I’m just gonna go,” You wave the gift in your hand heading towards the back door. Once you’re out there you finally exhale. From the porch, you can see the giant pink bounce castle that both of your children are currently playing in. You go down the steps content to watch them for a moment. It’s Ryan who spots you first. Before all of this, he would have scrambled out of the bounce house to meet you halfway. Instead, he just stands there.

“Mommy!” Emma breaks you from your trance flopping onto her bottom. She slides out of the bounce house to run into your arms. You catch her twirling around in your arms. “You came!”

“I did, baby girl.” You kiss both of her cheeks.

“You missed my party though,” She reminds you.

“I know, Mommy’s so sorry,”

“It’s okay,” Emma forgives you. She wraps her arms tightly around your neck again.

“I got you something,” You jiggle the box in your hand. She leans back to inspect it her eyes widening. “Let’s go ahead and open it.” You let her down to stand on her own two feet. She takes your hand dragging you over to the picnic table on the other side of the yard. She’s small so it takes her a minute to sit correctly but when she does she beams up at you. Her socked feet swing underneath the table as she waits for you to hand her the present. You place it in front of her and take your spot next to her. She doesn’t hesitate to rip into the paper tossing the bow somewhere in the grass behind her. You can hear the sound of someone sliding out of the bounce house and you look over to see Ryan stepping closer.

“Hey bud,” You greet.

“Hi,” He says softly. You raise an arm beckoning him over to come to give you a hug. He presses himself against you as you hold him close. “I missed you.” He mumbles into your neck. Through this entire divorce, your relationship with him has been strained. Everything has been strained.

“I missed you too.” You whisper back. You give him a soothing kiss on his head. He doesn’t let you go as you both watch Emma to see her reaction.

“Wow!” She says pulling the last pieces of paper from the gift. She turns the box over and over in her hands. “I got a watch!” It’s not some fancy watch. You’re not that out of touch with reality. It’s an Apple watch. The most she can do on the thing is take pictures, use the phone features, and use a calculator. She loves it all the same as she hugs the box to her. After hearing what Richard got her you were apprehensive about it being enough. Sitting here watching her cherish this gift you know you picked correctly. “Can I call you on it?” You nod. “Every night?” You nod again. “Cool!” She cheers.

There’s a squeak coming from the back door and you know Natasha has come to the back porch.

“Can I go show Mama?” She asks you.

“Go, show her.” She turns from the picnic table rushing over to Natasha to show off her cool new present. Natasha looks down at the box and then back to you with a raise of her brow. She doesn’t share in Emma’s excitement but she tells the girl how cool it is.

“How are you doing?” You turn your focus to Ryan. He shrugs. “You sure?” He nods silently.

“Ryan, come on, it’s almost bedtime,” Natasha says. “I want to check your backpack before the night is over.” She ushers Emma inside.

“Guess we better go and check those backpacks.” You say rising to your feet. Ryan clasps your hand in his and you both move to walk inside of the house. It’s there Natasha is setting up Emma’s watch. “Patience, Printsessa.” Natasha scolds lightly. She presses a few buttons on the screen.

“Can Mommy stay for bath time?” Emma asks innocently. Your eyes fly to Natasha’s. You haven’t done that in a while.

“Please?” Ryan joins in. Natasha’s resolve is broken as she gives a meek “yes.” The children cheer in unison.

Guess you’re staying for bedtime.

This takes almost two hours to get both children through their nightly routine. Emma is more reluctant to fall asleep as she doesn’t want to miss you leaving. You tuck her into bed with a kiss and a promise to see her again soon. She pulls the American girl doll under the covers with her. You wait for her to fall asleep before leaving her room. Ryan is next and he’s much easier. He climbs into bed all on his own with his back turned to you. He’s conflicted and you being here is not making it easy on him. You sit on the bed beside him. You press a kiss to the back of his head.

“I love you,” You say before reaching over to turn off his lamp. You exit his room leaving his door cracked. You amble down the hallway to the stairs. You find Natasha in the front room gathering all of Emma’s new presents that she would put into their proper place later.

“Thanks for letting me stay to tell them goodnight,” You say awkwardly.

“Don’t mention it,” She dismisses tossing the last of the toys into a pile. The house is pretty much clean now save for the leftovers she has to put away. She’s not kicking you out as you follow her down the same path into the kitchen.

“Natasha,” You begin. stopping yourself when you realize you don’t really have anything to say. “Thank you for inviting me. I know you didn’t have to do that. I feel like a jerk. Especially with how things have been going.”

“How have things been going?” Natasha busies herself with pushing the leftovers into whatever Tupperware they can fit into. She curses turning to look for a lid for this particular bowl. “Where is it?” She searches.

“Bottom right cabinet,” You inform her. She pauses before moving over to search the cabinet you gave her. She finds what she is looking for and turns back to the food.

“Things have been going good.” You continue your earlier conversation. “Work is work. My mom is doing well. She sends her love. I can’t complain.” You watch her stuff the fridge full.

“Well I’m glad things are going well for one of us,” She slams the door of the fridge a bit harder than intended. “Not all of us are able to abandon our motherly duties.”

“Natasha, I’m trying my best here.” You say immediately knowing what she means.

“That’s what pisses me off the most,” She says exasperatedly. “They’re so good with you just trying. They don’t care how many times you mess up. They don’t care if you don’t do something. They don’t care if you’re having a bad day and you’re doing everything to make them happy. They don’t care if you don’t show up for their goddamn birthdays but it’s me that get’s the brunt of the madness and the anger.” She slams her hands against the counter. Running her hand through her hair, she shakes her head. “Do you know Ryan got into a fight at school the other day? He’s been...angry these days. I’m considering seeing a therapist with them.” She nods to herself. “Emma’s been giving me hell too. I wouldn’t allow her to watch tv one night because I dislike them having so much free time. She threw a tantrum.” She swallows thickly. “She told me, she told me she hates me and that she wishes she could come live with you.” The unshed tears in her eyes break your heart into a thousand pieces. “So, yes trying your best doesn’t really fly with me.”

“Natasha, I’m,” There’s no amount of apologizing that could take that hurt from her. “I’ll talk to them. I’ll take them out for dinner and we can talk.”

Natasha sighs. She knows this isn’t something that can be fixed with a simple talk. She lets her tears fall freely. You hate that this is what you’ve done to your family. Stepping around the counter you reach out to her. It’s reminiscent of that night all those months ago when you left. All you want to do is make it better. Make her feel better. Your emotions are conflicting as you bring your fingers up to caress her cheek. She stands stock-still closing her eyes at your touch. You rub your thumbs across her cheeks clearing away the tear tracks.

“I’m sorry,” You say and she lets out a sob.

“You’re not sorry,” She shakes her head.

“No, Natasha, I’m sorry,” You say firmly. You’re hoping she can hear the sincerity in your voice. She opens her eyes searching your face for a lie. You get lost in the forest of her eyes. So trusting and loving even with all of the pain you’ve brought your family.

You don’t know who makes the move first. Your lips meet tentatively. There’s a hint of familiarity that comes from nine years of marriage. The kiss is soft and sweet. Her lips glide over yours in a slow, languid motion. It’s not lacking in passion. Quite the opposite actually. Her mouth is hot and wet and hungry for you as your tongues meet. Taking in her flavor, you moan. She tastes like leftover cake with a hint of toothpaste. You pull back slightly to suck her bottom lip into your mouth. You nip it gently and the moan it elicits from Natasha only spurs you on. Her arms come up to wrap around your neck pulling you closer as you push her gently towards the counter. Her back is pressed against it as you kiss her harder. You spend a few more moments wrapped up in each other. Your hands roam her body tracing over every curve.

The need for air becomes too great as you pull away to trail kisses down her neck. You lick at her pulse point before giving it a soft bite. She moans a bit louder tensing under you. You’re moving fast and hurried as you push her tank top over her breast. You move the cup of her bra to expose her nipple taking the rosy bud between your lips. You give it a hard suck and she gasps loudly. Her hands push your head closer to her as you swipe your tongue across her nipple. Your right-hand slides down to trace the front of her jeans.

“Please,” She says in her lust-filled haze. You flick the button of her pants open skirting your fingers under the waistband of her underwear. She’s wet. So wet. You slide your fingers through her folds collecting her wetness. On one particular slide, you bump her clit causing her hips to jump. You trace her opening and she’s panting now. When your fingers slip inside of her she lets out a yelp. You push until you’re at the second knuckle. You can hear the sound of her arousal and it is music to your ears. Natasha has always been loud during sex and this is no exception. You abandon her breasts to return your lips to hers.

“Shh, baby, you don’t want to wake them,” You whisper into her ear. She nods shakily as she tries to fuck herself on your fingers. You thrust harder sending her reeling as she reaches blindly behind her for the counter. “Good girl,” She flutters around your fingers, and god damn you want to stay like this forever.

“Harder,” Her breath is airy and hurried. She’s close. You listen thrusting into her harder, faster, deeper. Her brows are knit together as she chases her orgasm. You can feel the way she tightens around your fingers.

“He doesn’t fuck you like this does he?” You breathe close to her ear. “Doesn’t take care of you like I do,” The moment is over faster than you know it. Suddenly Natasha is pulling away and pushing you away from her. It’s like a bucket of ice-cold water has been dumped on you as she takes a huge step away. She’s buttoning her jeans and wiping at her mouth as you try to catch your breath. “What? What happened?”

“You can’t be serious?” She says. “You think I’m fucking him?”

“Natasha,” You drop your hands to your sides. She pushes her shirt down over her breast and you immediately miss your closeness.

“No, no, you cannot be serious.” Natasha turns to catch her breath. “You don’t have the right,”

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to assume. He was close to you, kissed you.”

“On the cheek,” She whips her head to look at you. “He comes over sometimes to help with the kids. They like him. That’s not any of your business if I was fucking him or not by the way. You lost that when you served me with the divorce papers.”

A wave of anger washes over you. Swiping your hand across the counter you cause all of the glasses she dried earlier to crash to the ground.

“Fuck,” You yell. The glass resting at your feet satisfies you. It’s a representation of how you’re feeling right now. Natasha jumps back avoiding the glass from touching her. She looks down at the mess in surprise before looking back at you. You both wait in anticipation for one of the kids to come down. They don’t.

You rush out of the back door to sit on the steps. You bend so your head is between your knees. The blood rushes there and you cough hoping to catch your breath. The backdoor creaks. A comforting hand is placed upon your back as Natasha comes to sit next to you.

“Breathe, y/n.” She hums. You’re having a panic attack. She sits with you so patiently as your breathing becomes normal again.

“I’m not good for them,” You say. “I’m just like him.” You whisper brokenly.

“No, y/n, you’re not.” Natasha lifts your chin to look at her. “You’re not.”

“But you said-”

“I know what I said,” Natasha interrupts. “You’re nothing like him. I only wanted to hurt you as much as you hurt me.” The admission sits between the two of you.

“Fuck,”

She returns her hand to her lap.

“I can’t…” You struggle. “It wasn’t making sense. Any of it. It doesn’t make sense. One minute we were happy and the next we weren’t. We became too much. I couldn’t make you happy anymore. Emma told me during her bath that she hears you crying at night when you think she’s asleep. I never meant to do any of this. I never meant it, Tasha.” You cry. You mean it. You ran. You did what you do best and ran.

“I know,” She says solemnly. “You never asked me if I was happy.” You lift your head to look at her questioningly. “You said you couldn’t make me happy anymore but you never asked me. You never ask you just assume. I’ve always been happy with you. Back during our days in the tower, when we got married, when we were pregnant with Ryan.” She names. “Even when we weren’t having sex and not communicating and fighting all of the time. I never once thought that we would end.” You’re surprised by that. All this time you thought you were doing the right thing for everyone and now you don’t know if it was the right thing at all. “Couples have rough patches. Tony and Pepper did. Thor and Jane. Clint and Laura. They got through it. I thought we could too. When you handed me those papers -- my entire world stopped, y/n. I thought there was something wrong with me. I thought maybe you found someone else. I thought so many things. But that I didn’t see coming.”

“I’m sorry,” It’s your turn to cry now. “I didn’t want this.” You shake your head. “I fucked up.” You say.

“Is this because you think I’m sleeping with someone else?”

“Partly,” You admit. “I have had some time to think and I just… I thought I was doing what’s best for us. You’re right I didn’t ask you. I assumed. I pulled away. I’m so sorry, Natasha. I never stopped loving you or wanting you. Even though all of that.” Natasha’s breath hitches through your admission.

“Then why?” She asks. “Why did you leave me?”

You don’t have a single answer. “I thought you were better off without me.”

“How could you ever think that?” She asks. You don’t have an answer for her.

“I have to leave in the morning,” You say. The moment is broken and though Natasha thought you were getting somewhere it’s clear you haven’t. She moves to stand and you catch her wrist. “Come with me. It’s a week in Florida. Come with me. You and the kids.”

“Y/n, we can’t just leave in the morning.” She says. “The kids have school and I have work.” You deflate. Of course not. You shouldn’t have asked. “But we could meet you there Friday night? Gives us time to pack and get everything in order with their teachers.” She’s giving you a chance. You stand to look at her. “The moment we come back we’re in therapy. All of us.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” You promise.

“Don’t break my heart again,” She begs quietly. “I don’t think I’ll survive this time.”

“I won’t.” You pull her into your arms. Standing here with her you wonder how you ever thought you could be without her.

---> next part

[koocycle]

over wine | jjk | teaser part one

↳ synopsis. designer dresses, spa weekends and rare wines are no longer enough to keep your marriage afloat. with your husband gone from home and a marriage standing on shaky grounds, you stumble back to your neglected career in the hopes it’ll fulfill the void in your life. you’re ready to take the risk this time, whether that is with the emerald cut diamond around your ring finger, or without.

over cocktails and dior-bowed roses.

pairing. husband! jungkook x ex-model! fem reader

teaser word count. 2k

estimated word count. 35k+

au + genre. rich couple! au, established relationship! au, married couple! au, semi sugar daddy! au, suburban couple! au, angst, fluff and smut.

teaser warnings. mild cursing, suggestive and mature themes

send me an ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

series masterlist

released on thursday, july 6th 2023.

Jeon Jungkook must be easy to love.

You figure he is, because anywhere the well-dressed man goes, curious eyes follow. Though you find it hard to pinpoint what exactly it is that makes the man so lovable in the eyes of your friends and neighbors. Your husband owns a great sense of fashion, in his defense. If we’re talking 10-minute trips to the only supermarket available in town, where the man makes sure his hair is slicked back and the first few buttons of his blouse are undone, then yes, Jungkook might have hit the bull's eye. It’s noticeable on people’s faces no matter where his feet carry him. Take the red-haired divorcée across the street for example, whose skirts get shorter each time she comes out to get her mail. Or take the head of the community garden every Saturday morning, who stoops a little lower each time she plucks another stock of radishes from her dirty, little yard.

Long story short, the man who got voted to grow the ‘’reddest tomatoes the neighborhood has ever seen’‘, is considered one of the hottest men on the block. Not like it ends there when he carries his good attitude with him no matter the day. As a beloved one who drives off to the office no matter the rush he’s in, Jungkook makes sure to slow the speed down and send a sweet wave to the elderly couple at the end of the street. After business hours, he would find lost mail in his letterbox, wrong packages at his porch, and missing kittens hidden in the trimmed bushes of his backyard. Yes, great guess; Jungkook in formal attire makes sure they find their way back to the rightful owner before it turns dark out. A smile on his face that’s sweeter than the candied apples he gifted Kim Namjoon’s 7-year-old the other day.

Yes, Jeon Jungkook from number 09 is the neighborhood’s heartthrob.

What is there not to love about your beloved Jungkook?

Perhaps his despicable wife?

‘‘You might want to lose the attitude before she comes back.’’ It is the first thing your husband says that is directed towards you, breaking the tense silence like nails scraping against a chalkboard. There’s a large gap between the both of you on the rather firm sofa and the silence you grant him does little to calm either of you down. The two-seater isn’t a very broad piece of furniture on itself, though it seems bigger when each of you is seated at the opposite arms. Glued to them like teenagers who got into a fight in the lunch cafeteria in between classes. You watch Jungkook slump down his seat in the corner of your eye, an arm resting over the edge in a way that makes his Blancpain watch shimmer prettily around his thick wrist.

‘‘Attitude?’’ You end up asking, glossed lips pursed together.

‘‘You know what I’m talking about.’’ He says flatly. Jungkook sounds like he couldn’t bother any less, but truth be told, the tight pause in his defense betrays him. His eyes fall to your folded arms and travel lower down your bare, crossed legs after. ‘‘You look like you don’t want to be here at all.” The Versace dress he got you hugs your hips just the way it’s supposed to and rides higher up your thigh with every minor movement you proceed to make. Ruby red polyester clashes with the neutrals in the room and you definitely seem like you don’t belong in such a formal setting, but fuck, he would have you bent over Mrs. Kang’s desk with your dress hunched around your waist if he weren’t supposed to be an angry fuck now.

You scoff at his foolish accusation. “Please, Jungkook,” a humorless chuckle dies down on your tongue when you can’t find it in you to fake it. “I was the one who had to beg you to clear your schedule for today’s appointment in the first place.”

“Then act like it. Don’t just sit here and sulk.” He bites like he had his response ready and set. Sharp eyes meet yours. “You’re acting like a child, pouting like it’s gonna get us anywhere. Seulgi is here to help us sort our shit out. At least let her do her damn job.”

Jungkook’s head slowly lolls to the back of the ivory-colored sofa when it’s off his chest, a puff of air leaving his lips like today’s session got him exhausted before it could even make its start. His eyes fall to a close as he pinches the bridge of his nose. The sight of it only makes the tight knot in your stomach grow and you can’t seem to tear your eyes off the heated man, a snarl on your lips you wish he’d notice.

“I told you, I want a second opinion.”

“And I told you, we’re not going through the hassle of finding another therapist when we got a fine one just under our nose.” Jungkook’s jaw tenses and he slumps down the sofa some more. “Give her time. She’s analyzing our relationship.”

His words trigger something inside you. They make you sit on the edge of your seat with heat rushing to your head, the Valentino Garavani mini bag falling off your lap and onto the cushions at the movement. “How much of an analysis does she need when we visit two times a week?” Your eyes fall on him. “Open your eyes, Kook. She always asks for my opinion and uses it against me a minute later. She is always on your side. We need a second opinion.”

“Just fucking drop it.” He mumbles to himself though he swears it’s for your own good. Also because the waiting area is only a door away and he doesn’t want to walk out of the heated office with judging eyes on him like last time. The walk of shame back to the car must have been the highlight of your visit. “I’m not gonna run around town and find you a straight, male therapist who’s blindly gonna agree with you the minute you flash him half a boob. Wasting our money like it’s nothing.”

Jungkook regrets saying that as soon as it’s out. He didn’t have to say that, he figures. Though when he’s met with silence and catches the roll of your eyes on his side, the pang of guilt disappears as soon as it came. You didn’t come here to argue here with him. Quite the opposite, considering your surroundings. Though it is getting hard to block that road when you aren’t one to bite your tongue either. “Of course you won’t. You love it when people suck on your dick.”

He should have seen that one coming. And he knows either one of you needs to stop barking back if you want to see any progress throughout your sessions with Mrs. Kang. Jungkook could be the bigger person if he wanted to be, but his egoism is rocket high. ‘’Say that again?’’

You fall to the back of the sofa as well, mirroring him with your arms crossed tight against your chest. “Seulgi is sucking you dry and you’re eating it up.” You mutter with gritted teeth. “Always picking your side, always defending you. . . you’re loving it and you can’t get enough.”

Jungkook says nothing and just listens to your quiet, angry mumbles at first. To him, you’re almost whining the words out like it’s going to get you anywhere. And maybe it would if the circumstances would be any different. If you weren’t forced to kill time in an empty office waiting for your couple’s therapist to return with your preferred coffee and biscuits. Kang Seulgi knows the deal by now; you like your spiced chai latte and he likes his shot of espresso so bitter that it sits on his tongue for the rest of the session.

He continues to watch you. Examine you, in some way. The sound of your rambling drawing out the more he loses himself in his own world. Issues roll off your tongue like you’re reading them off a long, unending list, and he feels like you’ve argued about these same things over and over again. Too many times for him to keep his focus when your breasts are pressed together so prettily in that dress.

You’ve had it for a while, Jungkook then recalls. A couple of years at most, but he remembers the day he bought it for you like it was last week. Initially, you told him no; you didn’t need him to buy you a dress for a price so ridiculous. He could buy you an extra large salmon bagel for lunch and you’d be the happiest woman in the room, is what you tried to convince him of. Though your eyes glimmered with adoration the minute you entered the store and held the designer piece in your hands. Moments after swearing you only wanted to see it up close and get a good feel. He remembers loving that glimmer in your eyes.

He wanted to see it more often, so Jeon Jungkook got you that Versace dress like it was nothing. You yelled and shrieked at him through the entire checkout and earned some nasty glances from the saleswomen, but he didn’t mind. He could take a hit from you. If a simple swipe of his card meant he’d see that look more often, then yes, Jungkook was willing to sell his soul for you.

“Are you even listening?” He doesn’t notice the corners of his lips slipping up until you tug him out of his daze. The apples of his cheeks show as quick as they die down.

“Yeah,” Jungkook groans and sits up straight. “I hear you. You’re just not making any sense, babe.”

Jungkook often finds several ways to make you roll your eyes and tighten your jaw, though he rarely makes you fume with steam blowing out of your ears.

Today is one of the days where he makes you fume with steam. He can tell by the way you avoid his eye in the hopes you won’t go all feral on him. Or how your glossed lips pettily press together, the Dior Addict lip oil one step away in your lip-combo routine from cussing him out until your voice goes hoarse.

You huff quietly, clearly holding back. “How am I not making sense? You’re not listening to a word I say.”

“I listen. You just have a hard time understanding me.”

It’s a thing you guys do, the finger-point thing. And it is something you do a lot. It’s a thing where either of you hopes that the other backs up when you point for long enough. A healthy relationship doesn’t work like that, is what Seulgi told you during your last session. As if you didn’t already know. But old habits are hard to get rid of, and certainly when it comes to you two, where someone else has to lose in order to win.

You didn’t think of her words as useful and made sure to voice the complaints about your newly found couple’s therapist the entire ride back home. Jungkook, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure what to do with your critical feedback. The entire session, he was just waiting for Seulgi to hand him that step-by-step handbook to a successful marriage, which he hoped was attached to her clipboard. But he knew she wouldn’t have made it so easy for you even if she had it. Not with the amount of money he pays her per session. Because if we’re going to be honest, then no, Jungkook didn’t get Seulgi either. But he was willing to learn from her and understand her. Unlike you, who just sat there and might as well have filed and groomed your nails while you were at it.

Maybe you’re scared of whatever is yet to come, he ponders. Maybe you think you’re better off than whatever the future has planned out for you and Jungkook. He doesn’t know, and he can’t figure you out either.

full version, date of release july 6th 2023.

taglist: @codeinebelle @cxcotin @hrts4kook

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