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wandasaura · 2 months ago

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LET ME CHECK

summary —natasha just wants to make sure you haven't broken any rules since she left, and who better to help her out than maria

warning(s) — established relationship, alludes to existing sexual dynamic with maria, natasha’s your girlfriend maria’s simply there, dom/sub dynamics, inspection kink, semi-public sexual encounter, teasing, fingering, edging, orgasm denial, pussy spank, very slight degradation, humiliation, condescending tones and elements, praise kink, men/minors dni

authors note — a little fic for the sweetest girls birthday! @iwantscarlettandlizzie

kinktober

The hallways were dim as you crept across them in search of Maria’s office where you knew Natasha always sought refuge after meetings with Fury. Pathetic tissue paper pumpkins, that you’d spent nearly an hour constructing from thin pages of muted orange parchment, were held between your clammy fingers ambitiously. The instructions had been unbearably vague, but you knew how easily holidays slipped the minds of those that devoted their lives to saving others, so you attempted to boost the morale of those that you held close, even if it was a measly attempt at crafting that you brought to the table.

Your fingers, clammy and gauntly in appearance from how possessively you gripped the construction paper stems stapled onto the tissue paper pumpkins, itched to relieve a greater issue that turned your insides into butterflies and dull insatiable sparks of unattainable pleasure; an issue that Natasha had single handedly created that very morning when she roused you from sleep with her tongue between your thighs. She’d woken you in such a way countless times before, however today she’d given you the clear ultimatum to be good for her until further notice before she’d pulled away without allowing blissful relief to crash over you in any capacity, and you’d never blatantly gone against that; you’d never go against that. You were her good girl, her precious angel that she enjoyed corrupting in unspeakable ways, and as much as that ache between your legs was growing unbearable as your mind traveled back to those first few moments of pleasure that had started your grueling day, you could hold off on relieving yourself until she gave you permission to do so. You hoped that she gave you permission to do so.

When you reached Maria’s office, the blue-tinted lights reflecting off of your white skirt in a manner that you’d grown accustomed to since the first time you’d taken up space aboard the helicarrier with her, you knew that Natasha was hidden away inside without even opening the door, able to hear the low vibrations of her voice though the metal walls, probably throwing paper balls at Maria with her feet perched up on the desk. The Commander absolutely detested the mistreatment of furniture, especially furniture in her office, but for some reason, Natasha always got her way.

You didn’t bother knocking, balancing both paper pumpkins in one hand as you turned the sterling silver knob with the other, cautious of walking into a conversation you weren’t at liberty to know about. If you had knocked, you would’ve been turned away and assumed to be just another rookie seeking out her favoritism, but Maria never minded when you barged in. She’d been the one to instill that open door policy that you acted under now, and while it always made your belly churn with anxiety for potentially overstepping, she’d never once turned you away; especially not when Natasha was also seeking refuge in her spacious office overlooking eloquent clouds and tempting bodies of deep frigid water.

You smiled timidly as you captured their attention upon entering, bashfully smoothing down your skirt despite the sight beneath it not being anything they hadn’t seen before. A permanent blush had stained your cheeks since Natasha’s cruel teasing had ensued hours earlier, and as you fell victim to Maria’s dominating gaze, you felt the twinges of pink across your features darken as heat rushed to the tips of your ears. Natasha’s smirk of amusement was belittling to put it gently, but persistently you stepped farther into the room, allowing the door to softly close behind you, fully enveloping you in their undivided attention.

“There she is!” Natasha greeted you cheerfully, a stark contrast to the near primal gleam tainting her gentle eyes that had seen horrendous acts of evil and suffering in such a short life. “What do you have, baby?” She quizzed gently, her eyes wandering your frame, taking note of the decorative pumpkins you clutched, but ultimately traveling downward until they settled on the sight of your thighs, glimmering softly with slick beneath the bright lighting that enveloped your frame. It wasn’t noticeable to anyone that wasn’t truly looking, but to her, it was all she could see.

You shifted bashfully beneath her heavy stare, soft eyes filled with innocence darting between the decorations that felt like flames between your palms and the two women practically undressing you from across the room. “Pumpkins. I, um, I needed a distraction, and Masha always forgets about Halloween.”

“You needed a distraction, hm? Why’s that, baby?” Natasha craned her head inquisitively, a faux gleam of confusion crossing her features before it melted away into a that same look of possession that had been written within her eyes that morning. You were hers, entirely hers, she never questioned that, but she did love to prove it, and that always came with humiliation and Maria’s wandering hands.

“Um,” You faltered, your breath hitching as your eyes shifted over toward Maria who sat perched behind her desk with a near sadistic smirk pulling at the corners of her tantalizing lips. You’d done so many things with her since Natasha had introduced you both. You’d allowed her into your relationship during both the softest moments and the most intimate, but you never failed to grow shy beneath her gaze that had been so meticulously refined throughout the years of commanding armies and demanding respect.

Natasha knew firsthand how flustered you became beneath the attention of her best friend, and the sight of you floundering to be good never failed to amuse her. “You can say it, angel. I’m sure Masha would love to know what’s going on in that pretty little head.” She cooed, head tilting to the side in that sickeningly cruel manner that conveyed innocence and genuinity to anyone that didn’t know her personally, but was truly the start of a harsher game. When she looked at you like that, like you were her entire world, it almost always meant that she was going to ruin you unapologetically.

“Oh? What’s your needy girl gotten herself into now?” Maria wasn’t blind to your flustered state either, and as the words fell against your skin, your heart leapt in your chest and that coil in your belly tightened once more. Neither woman said anything about how you pressed your thighs together pathetically, but both of them noticed how you attempted to fight the arousal turning you to putty for them to play with however they pleased.

Your eyes found a coffee table to your left, and softly you laid both pumpkins down on the glass top, no longer interested in finding the perfect spot for them to live until the end of October came. With Natasha’s expectant gaze still set on you, you fiddled with the edge of your skirt and found the will to answer, despite your voice sounding meek and soft as it floated through the office overlooking the world beneath you. “Natty, um, Natty said I’m not allowed to cum until she says so.”

“Yeah, and I edged you this morning, didn’t I, pretty girl?” She hummed, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she watched you unravel without so much as a single hand reaching out to touch your aching body tenderly.

“Yeah.” You mumbled, dropping your gaze to your shoes, unable to keep your eyes on either her or Maria as humiliation crawled up your spine and turned those butterflies in your belly into wild sparks of anticipation.

“Nu uh, we want to hear you say it. Use your big girl words and tell Masha what happened this morning.” Natasha condescended easily, her posture straightening as she narrowed her gaze, challenging you to disobey.

“Um, Natty woke me up with her tongue. And, um, she said I’m not allowed to cum ‘til she says. Didn’t cum this morning. Didn’t cum at all. Promise. I promise, Natty. I was good!” You begged her to believe you, you knew that she did, the way you stood with your legs pressed together desperately was enough indication as any, but she wasn’t feeling kind, and you could see that just as easily as she could see you.

“I don’t know, baby. I think I’m gonna have to check.” She frowned sympathetically, but there was no ounce of sincerity in her wrinkled pout and earnest eyes. It never failed to turn you on when you realized just how easily she could deceive the untrained eye. Luckily for you, you hadn’t been an untrained eye in years, however unluckily, she wasn’t quick to spare you humiliation when she felt the need to be cruel. “Well, I think Maria should check. You wouldn't lie to Masha, would you?”

“No! Wouldn’t lie to Mia, I wouldn’t! Not lying to you!” You pleaded, blubbering with her to believe you, but it was futile. She already knew what she wanted, and unless you called your safe word, she wasn’t backing down. You didn’t want her to back down. Your belly burned with wild humiliation, but sickeningly that only heightened the arousal swimming in your belly like a rogue electrical chord.

“Come here and let’s prove it then, honey.” Maria’s features softened momentarily, a calming reassurance that had you following her voice without hesitation. Her hands fell onto your hips when you were close enough to reach, and tenderly she tugged you closer. “It’s okay, sweet girl. Let me check, let me see how icky those pretty panties are.”

She positioned you over her desk easily, a steady hand placed on the center of your back, guiding you down farther and farther until your chest was flush against her paperwork and your ass was propped out for her to grope and fondle however she pleased. You whined softly when she flipped up the edge of your skirt, her calloused fingertips ghosting along the globes of your ass that were only barely covered by cheeky pink panties printed with delicate frilly bows. You whimpered, body involuntarily twitching when those same fingers that had pulled the trigger of a few hundred guns dragged across the center of your panties, prodding at the damp patch that darkened the fabric and tormented you incessantly.

“Oh, that must be so uncomfortable, sweetheart. Your cunt’s making such a mess on these pretty panties.” Maria cooed, but there was no ounce of sympathy in the tone she’d taken, and your cheeks burned with humiliation as you felt her touch slip away and the telltale sounds of her sucking her fingers clean followed. Your eyes searched for Natasha, your hand reaching out to desperately hold onto hers, and she allowed it easily, her thumb brushing against the back of your hand as she maintained eye contact. “Just as sweet as I remember.” Maria mused softly before her hands found your body again, this time grabbing at the waistband of your pink panties. “Why don’t we take these off, hm?”

“Okay.” Your voice was shaky, but you knew she wanted a verbal response. All of this would stop the second you shut down, and as much as you wanted relief, not more teasing, you didn’t want this to end prematurely, so you mustered up the strength to respond, despite how you wanted to whine and plead and lean into the sensations of pleasure and nothing else.

“Good girl.” She hummed, lowering them down your legs the second you’d given her permission. You stepped out of them when she signaled, tried not to watch as she flung them across the room for anyone to see if they entered. You didn’t have the chance to plead for something more, because the second your panties were out of the way, her fingers were plunging deep into your core, seeking out that spongey spot that neither she nor Natasha had any trouble finding. “So wet, so tight. Ah ah, quiet, angel. We wouldn’t want the rookies next door to hear these pretty sounds, would we?”

You gasped back a moan, bottom lip bitten between your teeth as you dug your forehead into your arms, attempting to muffle the sounds that you couldn’t stop from falling off your lips entirely. For minutes she explored every inch of your cunt, making lewd comments to Natasha that diminished you to nothing but a pet, but just as that pleasure was starting to amount to something worth chasing, she was gone. Your skirt was flipped down, her fingers were licked clean, and her gaze was heavy as it fell upon you after she’d guided you back up onto your feet.

“Well, she wasn’t lying. The little slut’s just as desperate as she was this morning, if not more now.” Maria taunted, her gaze set on Natasha, not paying even the slightest ounce of attention to you as you whined and shook your head pleadingly.

“My good girl.” Natasha smiled softly, nodding for you to come around to her, and when you did, she eased you into her lap sweetly. “You’ll get to cum soon, I promise, angel. Why don’t you be a doll and get Masha and I some water, until then, yeah?”

With your head fuzzy and desperate to please, you could only nod your agreehand, but you faltered when her voice cut through the silence again, stopping you from collecting the panties that laid in a heap on the floor. “No. Leave them there. Desperate girls don’t need panties, you’re only going to ruin them more than you already did.”

Not wanting to fight, not wanting to prolong your pleasure than it already was, you only nodded your head, leaving the office behind on shaky legs, hoping that you’d earn her sympathy before the day came to an end and you were left unsatisfied for any longer.

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 1 year ago

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(seven) days a week, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: It only takes seven days (a week) for Jeon Jungkook to get you in his bed to fuck you right. And showing up in weird places. And kissing in the rain. He's crazy. Okay, it's kinda complicated.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language (reader swears a lot); strangers-to-lovers; vague allusions to a loveless childhood and bad parenting (no specifics); JK might be insane and you do tell him that he is; slight crack; fluff; smut (fem reader, fucking with clothes on and off, m and f-receiving oral, light hair pulling, fingering, nipple play, choking, penetrative sex, handjob); non-idol!BTS – persistent!Jungkook x noona, def tsundere!reader lol ft instigator-cupid!Park Jimin setting them up

this directly follows Jung Kook's 'Seven' MV, so make sure to watch it (although I'm sure you've seen it if you wanna read this lmao)

monday.

“What? Something on my face?”

You stared at him and he stared back. Wide eyes, slightly parted lips, the look of caught prey and all. You had your hands in front of you, long fingers laced together, elbows on the table. You probably shouldn’t have scowled like that. That was a bit rude, especially to someone you didn’t know well, but this guy had been staring at you all night and barely speaking to you, even when prompted, so you were getting both impatient and annoyed at accepting this invitation.

“You wear… a lot of jewelry,” Jeon Jungkook said out loud, with awe.

You looked down at your hands. Well. The rings, the bracelets, even the earrings on both your ears, all sterling silver or white gold. You had even swapped out the lower lobe piercing for a pair of dangling dice earrings with grey freshwater pearls. You liked the cooler tone to bring some death to your warm-toned skin.

“Yeah. Is that a problem?” Your low voice had an edge of guarded to it.

A quick, nervous head shake. “No. No, it’s cool. I’ve never seen a girl wear so many chunky rings like that. I didn’t think I’d like it either, but then I saw you.”

You opened your mouth to snap out a comeback and then his words hit you.

There was no doubt that Jeon Jungkook was cute. Black-brown hair with a lustrous quality. Bright, expressive dark brown eyes. Slightly rounded cheeks with a distinct jawline. He said he had, and you could see, tattoos and piercings, something you quite liked but not a requirement. Built body, in the way that people where when they were committed to taking care of their physical appearance. Not so much in vanity, but in the way that matched how they felt that they should look in their head. Respect for that. But, in this chance that was what you had expected to be his, Jungkook didn’t taken it.

He looked the part.

Didn’t act it, though.

Black blazer, matching trousers. White t-shirt. Dressy but not too much. To be honest, the outer appearance didn’t matter much to you. It actually mattered the least. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Really. You were often told that you had too little patience for people, but, come on!

This conversation was awkward.

Hah.

You turned as you sensed a lively presence re-entering your icy atmosphere. Hmph. The actor playing Cupid in the instance. He looked the part too. Baby blue dress shirt with the top buttons undone. Ivory slacks, neatly pressed. Black hair perfectly curled over his forehead, framing an angelic face. Full lips forming an infectious smile that made his eyes disappear as small hands folded away the receipt and tucked his card back into his wallet.

“Ah, the waitress and I had a cute little chat,” flirty Park Jimin chuckled, giving you a little eyebrow wiggle. You rolled your eyes at him. “Did you guys have a nice talk while I was gone?”

“Um…?” Jungkook started, nearly afraid to glance at you for some support.

You gave Jimin a deadpan stare. “You trying to get her number?”

“Me? No, no!” he waved his hands, sitting back down to lean in. “She gave it to me anyway though.”

Figures Park Jimin would introduce you to a guy and also get the number of someone else in the restaurant. You deliberately hadn’t answered Jimin’s question, but he hadn’t noticed.

Jungkook, however, did.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him deflate a little and you winced in unease, not sure if you should have avoided it, but at this point the waitress had returned, lashes aflutter and gushing about how they just had to try to fried ice cream and it was on the house, as long as Jimin promised to come back, right? Right?

Jimin promised of course, of course, with a big smile.

You completely ignored him and picked up one of the pieces of fried ice cream – mango, it seemed, by the color – and placed it on one of the small plates before setting it right in front of Jungkook.

He perked up and gave you these big, hopeful eyes.

You didn’t say anything but felt your cheeks flush and your gaze shift, putting on an expression of reluctant apology. After a half second, you bowed your head just a bit, shaking off the moment and serving yourself before serving Jimin.

What?

Damn flirt didn’t even notice.

tuesday.

“You didn’t like him?”

“I mean, there’s nothing to like or dislike. He barely said anything. Also, Jimin, I told you, I’m not really a relationship person,” you sighed into your phone, walking quickly to the train station. “I don’t want to give this guy the wrong idea about me. He didn’t really strike me as a fuck-around-and-find-out kinda guy.”

“You said you would change your mind for the right person though.”

Sometimes you thought Jimin argued with you just to argue.

“Yeah, and I don’t even know what kind of person he is because he didn’t say shit,” you barked back to that snippy tone on the other side of the line. Some idiot honked at you and you resisted the urge to flip him the bird. Maybe he wasn’t honking at you. The hanging out the window and catcalling could be to the couple walking next to you.

You highly doubted it.

Also, maybe you just wanted to give someone the middle finger because you couldn’t show Jimin right now how much you deeply appreciated him.

“Jungkookie’s just super shy, but wait a minute and he’ll make you his.”

You rolled your eyes. Damn bad habit that you were forming ever since you became friendly with this mildly infuriating angel. “He’s not making me do anything.”

“I’m telling you; he suits you perfectly. You’re being stubborn and not giving him a chance. Anyway, I gave him your number, so don’t worry!”

“Wait, you did wha–”

The roar of the subway train below cut you off.

“Oop, you’re at the station. You’re breaking up! Can’t hear you, byeeeeeee!”

You twitched as Park Jimin hung up on you.

Asshole.

You pulled your phone away from your ear and pulled up the app to pay for your ticket. Paused for a second. New message, unknown number. Then it was your turn, so you hovered your phone screen, heard the beep, and hurried to the correct train line, finding the one to take you home. It was hectic even now, still within the dregs of rush hour, so you didn’t even think to check for the content of the text until you sat down with a big sigh, somewhat of a fwump with your distressed bomber jacket and baggy cargo pants, both made of thick black fabric. The side of your jacket slid off, exposing your bare shoulder and tight white tank top.

The guy standing about a meter away from you snuck a glance in your direction.

You tucked your tongue in your cheek and yanked your jacket back in place with the hand that was holding your phone. Noticed the screen flash, reminding you of the notification.

Fuck it.

Pressed your thumb and your phone unlocked.

Hey, it’s me. Jeon Jungkook… I wanted to say that I’m sorry about not talking that much last night. I was really nervous because you were so pretty and self-assured. I was so impressed that nothing I could think of seemed like a good thing to say, so I blanked out. I’m very sorry. I hope it is okay for me to text you like this.

An essay.

You paused for so long that you felt your cheeks heat.

The fuck?

You frowned at yourself. For some reason, even though he hadn’t talked much, you could hear the text in your head as if Jungkook was speaking to you directly. Sense the anxiousness in the typed words. See those big eyes gazing right at you with a mixture of curiosity and wonder and what-ifs. You sighed, feeling defeated. It would simply be rude to not reply.

I apologize for being too intimidating.

You sent it before thinking. Aw, shit. That was a bit short, wasn’t it? Damnnit. You saw the sending quadlet of dots spinning slowly, struggling due to you being underground. Fuck. If you sent another message now, it might be out of order and that would just get confusing. And what else could you add? Oh, geez, you didn’t even confirm it was you. The conversation with Park Jimin must have scrambled your egg brains.

The train roared out of the tunnel.

All of a sudden, the message sent and a reply instantly popped up. Actually, a serious of bubbles, rapid-fire like bullets. The confirmation must have lagged.

You’re not intimidating at all! Well… not in a bad way. In a sexy way. I mean, in a good way! In a cool way, like you’re not afraid to say what you wanna say. I really admire that in a person, so I really admire that in you. Sorry, that was weird, wasn’t it? I made things weird… ㅠ.ㅠ

You blinked slowly at the messages. It was pretty clear Jungkook had sat there and pondered over the first message for quite a while and these subsequent ones were stream of consciousness spewing. Honestly, kind of funny. Heh. You could sort of imagine it. Maybe he hadn’t expected you to respond right away. Hm, you wondered if he had hoped you would. He really was trying hard, huh. For what? What was the reason?

You tucked your tongue in your cheek and responded anyway.

Oh, you’re definitely weird, but you never know. I might like that. What’s the outfit of the day, Jeon Jungkook?

Were you fishing for a photo? Of course. He would probably scramble to put on a good outfit to impress you. To your surprise, the downloading image icon popped up instantaneously, spinning, spinning. You tilted your head, surprised at the prompt obedience. He must have snapped a pic right away when you asked. It was taking time to load though. You saw some people getting off the train and looked up, checking the stop. Oh, yours was next.

You took care not to look directly at anyone around you, keeping your sling bag in your lap.

Then you looked down to the inquisitive dark brown eyes of Jeon Jungkook with messy black hair and a black leather jacket. White t-shirt. It was a selfie, so you couldn’t see the pants. It was something borderline vain about the angle, but also a seek of approval in that parted mouth, silver ring and stud dotting the edge of the right side, flash of white teeth and slight bite of the left side revealing a small mole at the center underneath his lower lip.

You twitched.

Bold, wasn’t he?

You weren’t sure if you liked it – well, you didn’t mind it, you just weren’t sure if you like-liked it, what was he trying to play at here, trying to get your heart to beat fast or something, hmph – and you clutched your phone pointedly, your rings clacking as you prepped your fingers to type back… something, be honest here… and your fingers wavered.

Shaking a little.

You let out a breath you hadn’t known you had been holding.

Oh, the pants are blue jeans, but I’m out right now so there’s no mirror to show you.

You heard your stop being called and stood up automatically, filing behind other people getting ready to step off, the train slowing down, everything slowing down, finding yourself staring at Jungkook’s expression in the photo, why were you staring, shifting your eyes quickly, then back, it wasn’t like Jeon Jungkook could see you, ugh, this was so annoying.

Do you want to see? I can take another photo when I get home.

You let out a frustrated exhale that no one else around you could understand. Maybe not even those closest to you would get it. But you knew what it meant, and knowing also frustrated you.

Being self-aware was a bitch.

You finally sent your answer.

I much prefer this look on you than the blazer. Is this your normal fashion style?

You had worn a flowing white blouse and floaty black skirt the night before at dinner, but it was not your typical style. Well, it was, but it was one of your work outfits since you had come straight from the office. Something you wore to not get in trouble with the dress code and knowing you would have to meet up with people later. Sometimes you were a little riskier if you were feeling frisky, but Jimin had told you to look nice for the friend he was introducing you to.

But maybe it would have been better to look more you.

Then again, the restaurant was pretty high end. They might not have let you in.

Oh. Yeah. Hahaha, I wore the blazer because Jimin-ssi told me to look nice for you. I guess this is street-style? I don’t know… I’m not fashionable, I only wear what I think is cool or comfy. What about you?

You strode out of the train and briskly walked to the elevator, muscle memory already knowing where to go, typing back. Pausing when you saw the vending machine. A green tea would be nice right now.

You veered off course and headed to stand in line.

I think my friends would describe my style as dark and strong. They’re always telling me I should dress more feminine or at least in less black, but one of my core traits is not listening to shit people say. And swearing.

You tapped your card and made your selection. Waited out the whirr and clunk. Didn’t pay much attention to the world around you. It was a typical day, people passing by, no warning feelings. And, besides, your phone was much more interesting right now.

You did not just think that.

You scowled at your reflection in the glass of the vending machine before picking up your drink.

I hope I get to see you sometime soon so I can appreciate it. :)

You raised an eyebrow at your phone as you ticked open the can and started walking again, taking a crisp sip. It was slightly irritating that he was better at flirting over text than in person. Or maybe it had just been the circumstance. Come to think of it, it would have been weird if he did with Jimin right there, although you were sure Jimin wanted to be there to witness whatever unfolded. The awkwardness was probably just as entertaining to him as it would be if Jungkook had been more forward.

Hmph.

What was more irritating was that you weren’t instantly annoyed by it.

Hmmmmph.

Are you saying you aren’t intimidated by me, Jeon Jungkook?

You hurried home, following the streetlights, breathless, not because you were running, but because you wanted to be home so you could be alone with…

I’m saying I like feeling your effect on me in person.

Him.

wednesday.

The next time you saw Jeon Jungkook, you were groaning and setting your forehead on the edge of washing machine, screaming internally. Would have banged it against the metal if you weren’t going to lose a substantial number of brain cells. You were going to pay cash because you wouldn’t get that card surcharge if you did but, of course, of course you had accidentally shorted yourself and pocketed the wrong amount.

Fuck!

Now you were already at the laundromat. Walk back home and lug your shit to and back to get the right amount? Or just forget it and pay the extra charge? You had already put the detergent in. Fuckity fuck fuck. Technically you could go home, it wasn’t that far, but, ugh, it was extra annoying today because you had slept late and now you were grumpily doing your life responsibilities. Come back a different day? No, you had specifically told yourself to get off your ass and get that pile washed. Damnnit, if you hadn’t slept late and scrambled your egg brains, this wouldn’t have happened!

But you had been talking to Jeon Jungkook.

Ending the conversation had been more difficult than you expected. You gritted your teeth, feeling stupid for pulling such a teenage move. Still young, huh? Young and stupid.

Grr.

You heard the metal slide of the money drawer being closed and then an approval ping!

You jumped back, freaked out at the thing you hadn’t done, and then snapped your head to the sudden presence next to you. Dark blue jeans with giant holes at the knees. Gray hoodie sliding off a built right shoulder. White ribbed tank top. Messy black hair. A piercing, no, two on the right side of open lips.

Big, round, dark brown eyes.

You noticed he was wearing a few silver rings himself.

“Um… hi? I noticed you were short a little so I just…” Jeon Jungkook trailed off, giving you a hopeful look.

You gawked at him.

“What are you doing here?”

Ouch. A little too snappy. Jungkook faltered, those peepers shifting. “Ah… well…”

You bit your tongue and reeled it back. “Sorry. I didn’t expect to see you, is all. Obviously, you came here to wash your clothes like everyone else.”

He reached up and scratched the back of his head nervously. Wait. Why was he looking at you like that?

“W-Well, actually… Jimin-ssi told me you normally come here on Wednesdays to do laundry and I was nearby so I figured., maybe, I’d just check if you were here…”

You stared at him.

“You’re stalking me?”

“N-No!” Jungkook sputtered, waving his hands frantically even though you hadn’t raised your voice.

There was a bristle to your tone though. Indignation and frigidity you couldn’t hide. You frowned, narrowing your eyes, cornering him with your gaze. There were only a few people on this slow day, which was why you picked Wednesday to do laundry, but all the patrons had AirPods or other earbuds in, busying themselves with their shoving of clothing in and out of the washers and dryers. No one was going to interrupt anyway.

Not their business.

“I… I…”

“And how did you recognize me anyway? My head was down,” you remembered, advancing on him, and Jungkook took a step back, swallowing hard. Your outfit was baggy too, dark denim jacket and jeans, the tight black tank hidden by the bulk.

“I couldn’t forget how beautiful your hair is,” he mumbled out quickly, looking a little too mesmerized by your fierceness. Forget that. “And your hands were on the edge of the washer. Your rings. The star chain bracelet you wear. I…”

He was fixated on your collarbones and the thin black choker around your neck.

Or lower.

“Oi! My face is up here,” you hissed, snaping your fingers and making him jerk his head. He had stopped backing up though. You pointed at him, somewhat rudely. Actually, very rudely, but whatever. “What do you mean, check if I was here? And who told you? That idiot. I’ll kill him.”

And why was Jungkook looking at you like that?

Like he thought you were hot when angry.

He better stop that shit because you were losing your irate demeanor for some fuckin’ reason.

“I texted you almost all night. That wasn’t enough?” you half-growled, half whispered.

A tiny head shake.

Ah, shit.

You deliberately did not think that was cute.

“I liked it so much that I…” Oh no, oh no, not that honest tremble and deep gaze into your eyes. “I was hoping I could talk to you again, in person, more bravely this time.”

You opened your mouth to sink in that verbal bite and nothing came out.

The entire laundromat could flood right now and you wouldn’t even notice because you were staring at Jeon Jungkook and wondering if this audacity was freaking annoying or freaking impressive. Not this damn guy within two days leaving you speechless. Well… actually, no, never mind the technicalities.

“Are you even thinking before you do things?” you grumbled, not yet backing down.

Jungkook stuck his hands in his hoodie pockets suddenly. Hm? Nervous and shaking? You couldn’t tell, but you watched him closely, observing his body language, your eyes following those lines.

“Mmmm…” He bit the left side of his lower lip. “No?”

You strongly resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

Shy smile greeting you, accompanying the lip bite.

“I’m just listening to my heart.”

Now you visibly cringed. “Don’t say stuff like that.” Looking away slightly, somehow unable to meet those honest eyes.

“Why? You don’t like it?” Genuinely curious.

“You don’t mean it.” He did mean it and you could see that he meant it but you did not want to admit that you knew that he meant it. Yeah. “You barely know me. We only talked over text.”

“But you gave me thoughtful, frank answers. I don’t believe that you were being dishonest,” Jungkook protested, following you over to the tables a few steps away from the washing machines. You dragged your laundry bag with you and kept your voice down.

“I told you, I’m a straightforward an honest person. I won’t lie to you. And I won’t hesitate to cut you off if you lie to me,” you reminded him.

He nodded. You wanted to shake him and yell at him to stop giving you those eyes. “So I just decided to do what I wanted to.”

You cocked your head at him in disbelief. “You didn’t think you went too far?”

What was with that mischievous smile? “I’m the all-in type.”

You let out a puff of air.

“Also, you haven’t told me directly that you don’t like it,” Jungkook pointed out, leaning toward you, smiling.

You gave him a deadpan stare. “You don’t get me,” you said back flatly.

Those dark brown orbs sparkled. “That’s okay. I don’t have to get you to think you’re cool, clever, and stunning.”

Your eyebrow twitched.

“And why do you say that? Because you see how people look at me? Because you enjoyed my useless facts and tangents last night? Because you think with your dick?” You added the last question with bite, leaning forward too, having enough of this, not really him but…

The fact that you didn’t want to tell him to fuck right off.

Silence.

Jungkook was staring into your eyes.

“The shape of your eyes is so… perfect.”

You felt your ears heat.

He raised a finger and traced the air right in front of your left eye, the scent of his clean cologne drifting in your direction. “The way they sharpen in the inner corner, like a bird of prey… And your irises are so dark and striking…”

You grabbed his finger out of the air.

“Don’t be… weird.”

Why did you pause? Hello? No way you’re being like this over this guy right now.

You pointedly pulled his hand down, pinning it to the table. “Pay attention.”

Jungkook was giving you this dreamy, hazy expression. “Huh? What were you saying?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You can’t even listen.”

He leaned in closer and you caught a whiff of that delicious cologne again. “Sorry. I will. Say it again, please. I’ll listen carefully.”

The fuck were you saying again? The lights of the old laundromat flickered but you barely noticed. A common occurrence in these ol’ mom-and-pop places. And, besides, you were staring at this determined, patient smile and mentally shoving down those butterflies that you definitely weren’t feeling, nope, violently compacting those distracting internalizations into a tiny, windowless box.

“You don’t seem very good at listening,” you finally said, tight and even.

“I am,” he insisted softly. “I promise.”

“I’m too much for you.”

Or was Jungkook too much for you?

“I’m offering all of me,” he whispered to the shared air between you and him. “It might not be enough so I’ll be to work hard and do my best.”

What was he so earnest for? You hesitated, the edges to your hard demeanor softening. You didn’t want to trust stuff like this. It was so easy to get burned and you wanted to be the one to do the burning. And how could you trust people? Even you didn’t say everything out loud. Some things you could say and some you couldn’t say. It was too much trouble to believe in someone.

You had never received unburdened kindness when you were younger.

“We’re not on the same page.”

Jungkook tilted his head. “Aren’t we? But you’re reading me easily and I’m doing my best to learn about you too.”

Your shoulders released the tension. “Don’t pretend with me. It’s clear you’re a relationship kind of guy. And, while I’m not against them, I can’t deliver the same kind of devotion you are willing to give. Can’t you see that?” You removed your hand from his, not realizing it was still there.

His fingertip traced a line on the back of your hand.

Sparks raced along the base of your head.

You remained stern, feeling heavy and hot in your clothes.

“Why do you say that? You don’t think you’re loyal?” he asked very sincerely.

Your eyes narrowed. “Of course, I am. If I like you in that way and you asked me to bury a body, I’d already be digging the grave. But I’m not a flowers-and-chocolate kind of girl. That’s not how I show affection.”

You had no idea how far your clothes were in the cycle. The whole world could crash down and you would still be staring at Jungkook and his body language. His shoulders slouched a little more so he could look up at you with those pleading eyes.

Inhale still in your throat.

“Then, do you not like me?”

Say something.

But you didn’t say anything at all, gazing down at Jeon Jungkook and wondering why you couldn’t get through his thick skull that you were a bad decision. Honestly? Honestly, fine, it was because you grew up with parents that never liked each other nor their kids. Honestly, it was because you grew up too fast and with too much independence to not see the filthiness of the world. Honestly, it was because you saw the finicky innate nature of humanity of never devoting themselves to anything, much less anyone, and why would they?

People were crazy.

Call it personal experience.

You sighed.

“Jungkook, I’m not gonna lie to you. I fuck before I care about anybody. I’m only living to get my pleasure and not take care of anyone, okay? I’m barely keeping my own head together. I’m blunt. I don’t need or want romantic gestures. I just want dick. There. I’m not a good person.”

He was smiling.

Aw, shit.

“I must be favored to know you.”

You twitched, tucking your tongue in your cheek to avoid scowling, which was pretty much scowling anyway, so you failed spectacularly.

“Also, you haven’t said you don’t like me,” Jungkook pointed out. Infuriatingly. “Because it’s not true and you don’t lie. Right?” He said your name with a little too much sweetness and knowing.

You yanked your hand out of his and shoved his hard, muscular chest. He bounced back, grinning a little too happily. You told yourself to hate it and you didn’t. Fuck. “What are you even still doing here? Gonna fold my clothes for me or something?”

The energy at being offered a household chore was disturbing. “Oh! I can! I’m very good at doing laundry. And washing dishes. And cleaning. I like doing that stuff.”

“Sure, you do,” you puffed sarcastically,

“I do,” Jungkook insisted, coming around the table. “And I’m good at it.”

You scrutinized him up a down. “Yeah? Because you don’t know where else to put all that energy of yours?”

His lips parted but all he did was gawk at you. Oop. Right on the money. You were liking this expression a little too much. Maybe it was time to lower these walls a bit. After all, it didn’t seem like Jungkook was going to go away any time soon. He was pretty harmless anyway.

“I could drain you in a night,” you chuckled, smirking.

The tips of his ears were getting red at your lowered tone.

“You think you could keep up?”

thursday.

Ugh, it was one of those days that fuckin’ suuuucked.

Woke up late and had to rush to get dressed and bounce, then got to work and some shit was going down about missing documents and people moving papers they shouldn’t have, forcing you to play manager because everyone else had no goddamn spine to fix anything. This department would be a disaster without you. To top it all off, you had people stalling, keeping an irrelevant conversation going, leading you on a wild goose chase with no funny honking – turns out the documents were in some random copier right behind you, for fuck’s sake – and you had a very strong inkling it was because of what you looked like.

Which was fine.

Unless you were actually trying to do your job.

Then, one of your side dishes you had brought for lunch had gone off, so you ended up slightly less full than you wanted to be, and you forgot your jacket at work, leaving it hanging on the back of your chair in your rush to leave, and the train halted several stations before your stop because there was some emergency maintenance or some shit.

Fuckity fuck.

It wouldn’t be so annoying it if wasn’t so windy, but it was and you were wearing a sheer sweater with splashes of jewel-toned colors and a longline black sports bra under it – you had worn your jacket half-zipped until your boss had left in the middle of the day and your co-workers didn’t care how you looked, the dress code was stupid anyway – and black jeans, mid-rise. The rules were more about being covered up rather than being professionally dressed.

The job was primarily sitting at a desk and sorting documents, did it matter how you looked?

Or maybe you just broke the rules a little because you were a rebel.

Your stomach growled angrily and you told it to shut the fuck up.

You stood on the corner halfway between work and home, debating on whether or not to do some damage. The problem was you didn’t have any of the usual bad habits most people had. You didn’t drink, so getting stupid drunk and getting thrown out of the noraebang was out of the question. Also, you couldn’t sing. But, anyway, you barely took medicine, let alone know where or how to procure the illegal fun stuff, so that was also out. You didn’t have a sweet tooth either so you couldn’t down a whole cake with gusto, although that sounded like a great way to go.

You sulked.

You had an addiction, but you just stared at the names in your phone and felt guilty. Guilty! For what? For some guy you met literally less than four days ago? Ugh, no, this couldn’t be you right now. Seriously? Seriously? You crossed and stalked up the block, not yet deciding what to do so you kept walking until you figured it out during this internal battle. You had to keep this guy at a distance. Okay, yes, you could admit you liked him.

And that was the problem.

If you didn’t really like him, you could just fuck him and establish those hard boundaries. No issue. You had been in love before but that was a long time ago and ultimately you ended it because it wasn’t right and you weren’t good enough to be devoted to.

You breathed out hard, the unease spilling out of your insides.

It was definitely easier to not expect anything from anyone. You had spent a lot of life not having and, ultimately, not needing to rely on others, both out of necessity and simply having too much to work on by yourself. Years of fighting off bitterness that you had always tasted, years of letting go of important moments realizing that supposedly important people in your life would never be there for them, years of lashing out and becoming the shadow of the abuse you endured. Eye for an eye and all that. Keep the cycle going, until you had that moment in the eye of the storm to get hit by lightning and realize that this wasn’t right.

It wasn’t any particular thing.

Just finally accepting the creeping self-awareness that you had been miserable and were making other people miserable on purpose because you tore them open and took their hearts to find yours.

Metaphorically, duh.

So now you sort of did this martyr shit of being there for people when you could and not asking for anything back. Especially not a relationship. Intimate to heal a heart and then give it away, which totally worked if they weren’t into you, just into what you could do.

You didn’t really feel it yourself but you did get sex out of it.

Bad addiction, yeah.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket.

You ignored it.

Stepped into a chicken place and stood in line, feeling the weight of your world on your shoulders. You brain tried to reason with you that it was Jeon Jungkook’s own fault if he got hurt. He was the one who chose to spend all that time sitting at the laundromat with you talking about random shit. Your favorite video game – Persona 5, excelling in your top three most important things about a video game: music score, gameplay, and art style. Your favorite American rapper – Ludacris and the way he could rhyme the weirdest words. Your favorite movie genre – surrealist psychedelic drug movies, which earned you a confused head tilt. You had asked Jungkook what he liked. Mood lamps. Singing. Watching cooking videos on YouTube.

Had asked him if he believed in soulmates.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you ordered at the kiosk and paid.

You don’t think I could have met you in another life?

You stood with the other waiting patrons, ignoring everybody and your phone thrumming against your hip, thinking about last night.

I probably broke your heart.

Thinking about that smile with two piercings and a lip mole. That smile didn’t trust your answer at all.

Maybe the universe is giving me another chance to make up for my past mistakes. I can’t give up.

You made a face at past Jungkook’s answer, too taken aback all those hours ago to scowl properly. Maybe you had been too tired. Too worn down by his earnest nonsense to fight it properly at that moment. Your hand hovered over you hip, wondering if you should check it. Then dropped.

What, did you need to see him every day or something?

Your name was called and you stepped up to receive your order.

Oh, fuck, you miss him.

You yanked your phone out of your pocket and stared at it as you walked out of the restaurant, only to get plopped by a fat raindrop on the lit-up screen. You looked up to the gray sky and let out a hiss.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

You turned around and sat down, grumbling as rain poured down and you replied to Jungkook’s texts.

Stupid.

Not him. Just you.

friday.

“What are you trying so hard for?” you snapped.

“Why aren’t you trying hard enough?” Jeon Jungkook shot back.

It was going really well.

Clearly.

You let out a hiss and flicked your hands as if you were trying to physically get rid of his reply. Argh, this… man! The thundering rain was pouring down, down, and you were both standing under a bus stop with no intention of taking the bus. You bit back the volume of your sudden anger. There was no need to yell anyway. No one was coming out in the thick of this monsoon.

Only you and crazy-ass Jeon Jungkook.

Switched tactics. "And what makes you think your virgin ass–"

"I'm not a virgin!"

"You are here!"

And you jammed two fingers into that very muscular chest, right next to the left side of his sternum. Too fast to be stopped. The shove actually made him stumble. Or maybe it was the utter shock of the verbal and physical double jab combined with the deep growl that your voice had suddenly become. His racer jacket and black hair were slick with rain. Half of his white t-shirt soaked. Even the front of his blue jeans drenched.

You panted hard after your outburst, the anger draining away all in a flash of lightning.

Jungkook stared at you with stricken eyes.

The rain pelted down, down, beating into the silence.

“How did you know?” he breathed out.

You didn’t but somehow you did, feeling something inside of you break. Not afraid of the world. Never, never again. No, afraid of what you could do, afraid of breaking something this pure, because you broke your first love too and that past guilt still lingered. Not that you thought Jungkook loved you. He couldn’t This was only the fifth day of him knowing you.

The fuck is going on?

“I see your type all the time,” you sighed, your damp hair all over your face. “Looking for light in black holes instead of stars.” The rain had slipped off your black leather jacket. Your cropped band shirt wasn’t wet, but your black cargo pants were sodden knees down.

This coldness, however, didn’t come from the rain.

“You really should stop. For your own good.”

You looked away from him, feeling as if your own words had pierced bullet holes into your walls. Dark sky, never-ending rain, cars struggling to drive, people running with umbrellas and ponchos, arms huddled close to their bodies, and here you were just standing here in the rain, the world acting out your mind. How nice. You thought you had come to terms with everything, but obviously not. Somehow once you saw Jungkook again, once you felt his presence again, the pull was even stronger and the storm was even more intense and the worst part was that you didn’t want to leave.

You heard Jungkook’s soft, silvery voice through the gray rain.

“Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?”

You turned your head to look into those pleading brown eyes.

Lightning shot across the sky.

Thunder followed seconds after, eating up the night.

“W… What?”

He shook his head, dripping water.

“You haven’t hurt me. You don’t mean to, either.”

That smile, his hand extended, the inked snake on his wrist showing.

You stared at Jeon Jungkook with droplets beading on your skin but those goosebumps weren’t from the weather. Jerked your head away. What is with this gentleness? How could he know anything? He couldn’t know anything. He was just an airhead who watched too many dramas and made others believe that they could be real.

“Noona?”

You whipped your head to Jungkook, shocked at his use of the honorific. He only used it when Jimin was at the meal. Afterwards, the conversations had been clearly directed at you. Not completely informal speech, but sometimes you slipped and he did too. You never corrected him because, well.

You slapped his hand away.

Nothing was going to happen.

You closed the distance and grabbed his head, pressing your lips to his shaking ones.

It was going to be terrible. Cold. Wet. Acidic from the lingering feelings. There was no way that this kiss could be anything else with this setting.

This was real life.

Not a story.

Your hands cupped his cheeks and you sunk into his kiss. The hard edge of his jewelry and the softness of his breath, caught by your mouth, your eyes already screwed shut, nothing to do but feel, feel the way he instantly pressed back and set his hands on your elbows, pulling you closer, shuddering as your forearms pressed to his chest. A weird feeling, like two fires melting together, prickling racing across your skin, no, deeper, past your ribs and into your heart.

The storm raged on.

You snapped out of the kiss, nose to nose, water trickling in places it shouldn’t, over your eyelashes and down your neck, feeling fingers graze across your elbows. Slipping under the leather. Droplets soaking into your shirt and then warm hands lingering at the curve of your exposed waist.

Tracing your lines.

“Fuck,” you muttered.

And you kissed Jeon Jungkook again.

saturday.

No, you didn’t take him home. You’re reckless, yeah.

But you knew how that would go.

Not that Jungkook didn’t try. Maybe you would have done it, if you weren’t the equivalent of wet cat and equally torrenting emotions. His hands around your waist, pulling you closer, heat blossoming between layers of rain-drenched clothing, kiss after kiss, your hands in his hair, tangling those dark waves into wilderness, getting more and more breathless, heady with a feeling you knew but didn’t want to believe in.

For someone who hated lying, you sure enjoyed lying to yourself.

You had reasons.

How could this time be different if it was just following the same trajectory that you always followed?

You had to pry yourself from him, lips tingling, tongue curling, feeling your blood course through your veins and your heartbeat as loud as thunder, opening your eyes to his blissed-out expression, his own eyes still closed, pressing his lips together to savor your taste.

Damn.

You had wanted to tell him to stop it, stop it with all this falling, you were being dragged down by his vibe, clothes feeling heavy, desperate to be stripped away, but you kept your hands along the sides of his head, your exhale escaping but giving you away like a bad con artist.

Those shimmering dark eyes had opened, following Jungkook’s smile.

“You’re a great kisser, noona.”

His hands stayed on your waist, drumming his fingertips on your skin, tangible kisses creating invisible but no less real electricity.

You scoffed, corner of your lips rising.

“Shut up.”

Tendrils of his black-brown hair clung to his forehead. The rain drummed but it had lessened a bit. You had looked back to his eyes, defeated.

“Shut up so I don’t miss you more.”

One last, drawn-out kiss, tongue to tongue and you had broken from him, warning him sternly.

“Don’t follow me.”

Ran all the way home, face burning, not even feeling the rain even though it was still falling.

Now, present time, you sat at this boring farewell party in some fancy hotel with the sun blaring outside. Figures the nice weather would come out when you would have to stuff yourself in a fitted blazer dress and pretend to care about your boss’s boss retiring. Black, of course. For the formal occasion. Sadly, no one was dying except this old coot’s career.

Maybe you were a little salty that you couldn’t retire yet.

You looked down at your phone, which was on silent, noticing you had a new message.

ㅎ.ㅎ

O… Okay. Whatever that face was supposed to mean. You didn’t even bother to answer. Couldn’t, anyway, forced to plaster on a mildly interested expression as your boss gave a speech that you zoned out of. There were multiple large circular tables in the hotel ballroom. Outside the ballroom was an outdoor area with the buffet. Everyone had served themselves before sitting down, but, first, a few words.

A few was turning out to be too many and your salmon was getting cold.

Employees had been allowed to bring plus ones. Wives and husbands. There were a few empty seats, and a few significant others popped in mid-speech, trying to be quiet and politely bowing in apology. Of course, they weren’t required to be on time, having other obligations and such.

You twitched.

Was that why this was dragging on? So everyone could eat at once? For fuck’s sake, who cared if they were late. Then you noticed your boss’s wife stepping in, looking pretty and put-together in a forest green high-necked dress, holding the small hand of a kid in a lopsided children’s tuxedo with an equally confused expression.

Oh.

Come on.

You suddenly felt a disturbance in the Force.

“Excuse me. Sorry, sorry.”

You whipped your head around to see Jeon Jungkook in a black pinstripe suit cha-cha sliding in the empty chair next to you, picking up your black velvet purse and holding it out to you with a grin that made his large, dark brown eyes light up.

You gawked at him.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” He added your name politely and with affection, smooth as butter, criminal undercover. Even the honorific, oh, shit.

The blood drained out of your face and you tried not to think about how your co-workers sitting at the table were staring at you and him like you both had three heads. Of course, no one was supposed to be talking, so no one asked questions yet, but that was definitely going to start the second your boss was finished with his sentence.

You took your purse without another word and glared at Jungkook with such fire that you hoped he burned alive at the spot. Oh, this could turn into a murder and a funeral real fucking fast. All he did was give you those shining big peepers that made you want to strangle him. In an unsexy way.

For now.

You leaned over as the clapping started. He caught on and delicately leaned over, offering his ear to your lips.

“The fuck are you doing?”

Jungkook turned his head so only you could hear his whisper.

“I was nearby, so I figured…?”

You stared at him, plumb slack-jawed at this audacity.

He closed the distance and gently kissed your cheek. You ticked your head almost robotically, piercing eyes following his playful ones, and now you wondered if Jeon Jungkook was truly not right in the head or perfect for you.

Well.

You weren’t right in the head either.

You did text him earlier this morning that you needed to come to this party at this hotel to send off this important retiree. If you missed this, then it would have reflected poorly on you, especially when you wanted to keep your job, so, yes, it was part of the reason why you had not attempted to convince Jungkook to sleep over – not that he needed any convincing whatsoever – and the other reason was to get enough sleep so you could tolerate socializing. Did you think Jungkook was gonna finesse his way into the seat next to you? Hell no. Did you think he was gonna dress smartly and with his black hair parted neatly in the center, fuckin’ black tie pressed and collar pinned? Fuck, no.

Did you think you would like it?

No!

“How did you get them to let you in?” you hissed under your breath.

Jungkook was clapping like a seal because everyone else was. A champagne bottle was being popped. He looked systematically impressed and awed. Amazing acting. “I just said I was with you.” Glanced at you and grinned, the silver piercings on his lip gleaming. A hoop and a stud. “Aren’t I, noona?”

The urge to growl at him to shut the fuck up was silenced by your brain reminding you to be safe-for-work.

You felt a poke at your sleeve. Your co-worker sitting at your left, bleach-blond and with the curiosity of a child. Full of sudden comments and questions too, just like a kid.

“Oh, oh! You never mentioned anything about a boyfriend!” Because you didn’t have one until right now, apparently. “So handsome!” Yes, he was. You had taste. “How did you meet?” Circumstances beyond your control.

“Through a… friend.”

That was a very generous word for instigator Park Jimin.

Jungkook poked his head past you and waved. “Hi! Nice to meet you.” He was using you as a shield to avoid directly interacting with these people he didn’t know. Just chiming in with polite nods as you introduced him to the table and sitting back to let you have this uninvited spotlight that was burning you like the sun did to vampires.

Pretty close, in all honesty.

“Aw, what a sweet guy. It’s nice to meet you too. I didn’t think your type was so young and cute.”

You almost made a face of distaste. “You thought my type was old and ugly?” Oop, there goes your sharp tongue.

“Nooo.” You tried not to flinch at the playful slap of your arm. “More mature, maybe? But this is better. You don’t have to be so serious. Look at his smile! I bet that’s what drew you in.”

You glanced at Jungkook and he appropriately smiled big at the right time. Somehow, he had obtained a plate of steak. How, you didn’t care. You narrowed your eyes just a sliver. Jungkook did not stop smiling but there was at least an iota of fear in those big brown eyes. Speaking of vampire, maybe you should suck the life out of him because he was being too fuckin’ much.

“Well, he was persistent to put it lightly. Might as well give him the chance to win me over.”

Jungkook beamed like a billion-kilowatt lightbulb. Or a crystal chandelier. It depended if you wanted to say the light came from his white teeth or sparkling eyeballs.

Fuckity fuck.

You wanted to rub your temples but refrained.

You would never recover from this.

“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asked you later.

Oh, now he wondered if you’re mad. You didn’t even look at him, dragging him away from the crowd by the elbow. Hopefully you had stayed long enough but there had been so many of the same questions that you were either getting dizzy or murderous. Hm. Why not both?

“I’m not mad at you,” you muttered.

“You kinda sound mad.”

“I’m not mad but I’m gonna get mad if you keep saying I am,” you warned. “Don’t start a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

“A what?”

“Where did you park?”

His voice became small even though he was right next to you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

The sun was blaring down on the open parking lot, it was annoyingly humid, you were socially drained, and this, not this. You spun abruptly, too much crashing down too fast, flinging Jungkook’s arm from you.

“No,” you hissed out. “No. Don’t you dare take it back. You wanna be crazy and drive me crazy, fine, do it, keep doing it, don’t stop, but own up. I’ve got enough push-and-pull jammed into my head and I don’t need you adding to it.”

It was so easy to simply give in to the rising anger, but you found yourself locked into Jungkook’s wide, taken-back eyes, drowning in them, deeper than the ocean, seeing how rueful he was.

“Don’t do that to me,” you sighed.

At least your voice didn’t crack. You didn’t want to be angry anyway.

You raised your hand to cup his cheek but paused, not knowing anymore what was what. Always been so sure until the world started getting flipped upside down by Jeon Jungkook. You always knew all of the things to do to make someone interested, all the things to say to make them swoon, and now you didn’t know anything at all because this guy showed up and jumped right in, not even caring about the damages, the fine print, or the past that lingered.

Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?

Jungkook leaned forward and completed the curve of his cheek into your hollow palm, now looking at you eye-to-eye with a curious expression.

The corner of your lips curved upwards.

You leaned forward, saying your next words very seriously.

“You. Are. Crazy.”

sunday.

You sat against the window, waiting for the document to print out.

No one was in the office. You had rolled over here out of sheer boredom, looking up at the gray-blue sky and watching shafts of sunlight phase in and out. Overtime to prepare documents for Monday. You hadn’t bothered to follow dress code, but there was a breeze today, so you wore brown plaid trousers and an old vintage t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. The faded album cover of Papa Roach’s Infest. Your oversized black leather jacket was on the back of your office chair once again.

You spun in your chair, the print job long done.

Thought back on the week.

Day one, awkward dinner and the start of a rollercoaster.

Day two, clutching your phone and waiting for replies due to the spotty service of the subway.

Day three, washing machines and dryers and long conversations.

Day four, shitty day with a nice ending to more texts. Better service too.

Day five, cold rain and warm lips.

Day six, surprise! You have a boyfriend and everybody knows!

You got up and wandered to the copier. Stacked everything up and clipped the right parts together, setting it on your boss’s desk. Glanced at the time at your computer. The blank screensaver abruptly appeared, showing you your blurred reflection.

Your fingertips lingered on your chest, the soft, worn fabric of the shirt reminding you of night after tumultuous night of the past. Time that made you, you. Scars you made by holding on too tightly to pain others gave you. The thought of scars in others that you started and they held on to. Repenting, in a way, healing the hearts that came in your path with intimacy and the passion you were afraid to show Jeon Jungkook because what if, what if…

What if it actually matched well?

“You,” Park Jimin had said to you months ago, “You need someone who thinks of you as their whole world.”

“I don’t want that.”

“You don’t want it. But you need it.”

You didn’t have Park-Jimin-being-right on this year’s bingo card, fuck.

You clocked out and collected your stuff, turning off the lights as you left the office, black boots the only solid sound around you, pulling out your phone to check the address one more time.

“Why are you wearing clothes?” you asked accusingly.

“Um…?”

You gripped the sides of the denim jacket and yanked it off his shoulders, pinning Jeon Jungkook’s arms to his sides. He immediately yelped but you silenced him by stepping through the door and pulling him to you by the button placket, tracing the edge of his open lips with your tongue.

“W-Wait, noona, the d-door…”

“I don’t care.”

Kissed him, deeply.

That now familiar scent, closer, slipping your tongue between his lips, succumbing to the flutters. In, out, feeling him collapse under you and moan in his throat, hard body stumbling into yours, hand haphazardly smacking the edge of the door.

It closed behind you.

You rolled your body into his, closer than close with too many layers in between, tangling his arms in his own jacket, swallowing his gasp and feeling him wiggle determinedly to free his hands and then they were on your face, strong fingers fanning out over your jaw, his jacket falling to the floor, hungrily following your tongue and lips with his own.

Something addicting about the addition of metal to those soft mouth.

This was your forte, the ability to make fantasies come true, and you took it seriously, throwing your bag onto the table by the door and shedding the protective layer of leather. Pressed chest to chest, holding his head and tracing his lips, slow fucking them, running your fingertips over the curve of his ears and making him shiver, noting the three hoops along his left ear.

Pressed your hands down his chest, over the smooth ribbed white tank molding to his muscular torso, down, down, kissing past his lips, to that mole underneath, down his chin, his head tipping back, your name drifting above your head as you kissed down his neck, the sharp clean scent of his cologne getting stronger.

“I thought… we were… o-oh, g-going out…”

“I’m gonna fuck you,” you breathed into his collarbones, hot and low, nicking his skin with your teeth and making him shiver. “Right now. Tonight. Maybe tomorrow too.” Undid the button of his jeans with some effort, yanking him towards you again and molding your hips to his, thighs to hard thighs, and that stiffness wasn’t only a sturdy zipper. “Tuesday as well. Fuck it.”

“The whole week,” Jungkook gasped as you unzipped his charcoal jeans.

“Yeah, good, you’re keeping up,” you murmured and grabbed his head again, catching a fistful of his black hair, kissing him hard with your other palm pressed to his hardness. Your tongue tracing the edge of his lips, breathing into his mouth and swallowing Jungkook’s wanton moan, intoxicated by the moment.

You pulled back just to yank your shirt over your head, tossing it to the floor.

It took longer for it to float down than for you to get on your knees.

“Woah…!”

Hooked your fingers on the elastic waistband of his Calvin Kleins and tugged them down, exhaling over that thick length that popped out. He smelled clean, like he had just showered, and you half-smiled, approving, closing the distance to curl your tongue around hard taut skin.

“Ooooh… fuuuuuuuck…”

Tightly taking control, using only your tongue to scoop around his girth and flick against his balls. Kisses, licks, flutters of breath, all of it, sensation after sensation, layering on the heat, adding sweetness to the obscene, his twitching cock hitting your cheek as you pressed kisses to his balls.

“Let me show you something,” you hummed and swallowed his pride.

Jungkook gasped so loud that his hands shot up to his mouth, fingers laced over his moan, one inked arm and one tan one, tilting his head back as your lips closed around him, softly, your tongue cupping the head, caressing the underside, the slit, letting him throb against wet muscle. Pushed him up to the roof of your mouth and slowly, in and out, rubbing the base of the head against your lips every time you ascended, fanning your fingers over his crotch to hold the base and cup his balls in between your index and thumb. Steady and consistent, sucking him off with deliberate precision.

You had a lot of fancy skills to show off but, for this first time, might as well give him the stripped-down version.

Heh.

So you blew Jungkook at his front door in your bra and pants with his clothes half-on and struggling to breathe.

“A-Ah, so s-soft… and so tight… h-how…”

You didn’t speed up. Didn’t put in more force. Used your whole torso, not just your head and neck, to avoid strain, holding his hips to take him deeper but at the same pace, letting the orgasm build with his heart rate, running your thumbs over his balls, a gentle caress, closing your eyes to savor it. Hard and twitching, but you didn’t let him disturb what you had going on, extending out the minutes, saturating every second with flowing, unavoidable bliss.

What?

You could match his vibe with your kind of romance.

You heard Jungkook’s pitch hike and the muscles under your fingers all tensed up. You spared a look upwards, but he wasn’t looking at you, shoving his hands into his messy black hair, displaying his prominent triceps, and moaning to the ceiling, dragging his bangs over his eyes.

“Oh my God, I’m cumming, fuuuuck…!”

You pillowed your tongue around the head and his salty orgasm flooded your mouth, spilling out and down your throat, but you cupped what you could and coated the sensitive head, pleased to hear Jungkook’s shudder and whimper of ecstasy, gripping his hair and pulling. The close-fitted nature of his tank top left nothing to the imagination, the aftershock rippling up his chest, even his hardened nipples poking against the fabric.

You swallowed.

Jungkook moaned and his head fell back again, his eyes probably rolled back.

Gotta finish him off right.

You licked around him carefully, cleaning him off and keeping him hard.

“You…”

Cocked an eyebrow as you shifted your eyes up, his cock buried in your throat, pulsing your muscles around his length. His chin was on his chest, wayward dark curls hanging down, shaking wide eyes watching you with fascination, his shaking voice full of awe.

“You know… how porn calls it a mouth-pussy? I really thought that shit was fake and sounded stupid, but… you have a mouth-pussy.”

You blinked at him and tried not to snort out in laughter.

You just raised both eyebrows and flicked his balls with your tongue. A few seconds later, you pulled back and countered with, “Really? Mouth-pussy? That’s how you show gratitude for the best suck of your life?”

“B-But it’s true!”

You shook you head and waved a hand at him.

“Clothes. Off.”

Every hour, every minute, every second.

Full of sex.

Jungkook wasn’t lying. He wasn’t a virgin. He was a little too good at fingering to be a virgin. Well, you hadn’t had his dick yet but it was pretty obvious with the slow circles on your clit and the kissing of your collarbones. Clothes didn’t even make it to the bedroom. Most of them were left by the door. Your shoulder blades and ass touching the bed, his other hand along your back and tracing your spine as he kissed across your breasts, shyly shifting his gaze back to your face to constantly check if you were enjoying it, not quite confident that he was making your heart flutter. You smirked back at him, taking his hand and pressing his fingers to your wet slit, pushing them in yourself.

He breathed out with you, watching your face as the pleasure snaked out from your core.

Two of them, taking it slow, but you shook your head and pressed his down, your hard nipple against his lips, and he followed your lead, faster, harder, your inner walls clenching around him, sighing deeply as the pleasure flowed, soft licks and tracing tongue. You let him have it, the slower, more romantic pace, spreading your fingers over his sheets and thrusting into his hand, adding to the pleasure, and Jungkook’s eyes glittered, kissing from one nipple to another with a smile.

“Harder?”

“And faster,” you agreed, licking the air between you and him.

Hey, you weren’t a virgin either and you liked it rough.

He kissed you first, entranced by your tongue, harder, faster, your hips following his hand, entangled in this beat, and then it was back to your nipples, kissing sucking, sparks of sensuality over your skin, your hands diving into his hair. Heat. Roughness. Passion, catching your breath and your head falling back, inhaling his scent and the clean sheets, the orgasm flooding through you, delicately forming his name with your lips.

“Ah, Jungkook…”

You didn’t let it stop there though.

His hand moved to pull out and you clutched his wrist and pushed him back in, your nail catching his ring finger, collecting it too, gasping at the added fullness, and you pulled his left hand out from under your back.

Jungkook watched you curiously as your rode his right hand and turned his left, thumb down.

You fitted it around your neck and positioned it correctly, grinning devilishly at him.

He got the hint.

Slightly unsure at first but you built his confidence, comfortably laying back on his bed and spreading out your fingers, moaning softly for him, rocking your hips into his hand, climbing to the high again, stronger his time. His fingers pressed inwards and you breathed out, savoring the choking, the way time slowed down, the way the sensations heightened, your spine arching, low gasp like heavy smoke, immortalizing the moment in his memory, black pupils blown out in those beautiful dark eyes, leaning forward to run his tongue over your nipples.

Your fingers curled into the sheets, thrusting into his fingers harder.

Lids heavy, drowning in the pleasure, his tongue, his hands, the way he looked at you like you were his whole world, the tension between you and him, sweet and intense and overwhelming, just perfect, your exhale only a thin wisp now, closing your eyes and moaning to the ceiling as you came.

It was a hard, thundering pulse, much more powerful than before, your shivering pussy gripping his fingers and your hips bucking. Thighs snapping closed, whining as you felt the hardness of his tattooed forearm, your head snapping to the side the second he released you, the rushing blood knocking you down and making your nerves sing, strong flinches across your arms and torso. Gasping to catch your breath.

Wasn’t his first time choking, but maybe the first time he got really turned on by it, because Jungkook was ogling you like a three-star Michelin meal.

It was like that all night.

From the first time he entered you, one condom wrapper the start of many, biting the left side of his lip and shuddering – “H-How are you so tight…? I just f-fingered you – oooh!” – and you wrapped around him tightly, smirking a little too smugly, one arm around his neck and one leg on his shoulder. Your fingers petaled around the base of his head, cupping him in the flower of your touch. Your thigh against his hard chest still trembling from your kisses. You angled your hips and he slipped in deeper, groaning in disbelief, his brows furrowing at you.

“H-Hey!”

Your tongue pocketed in the side of your smirk and you fucked him right.

“Gah!”

Jungkook, too, fucked you right.

You lead the pace so he could bring the force of his hips. Ah, fuck, right there, like that, and you let him know, the cries tumbling out and mixing with his, rushing wave after wave pressing into you, filling you with his girth and his power. You brought the intensity, the flint to his flame, the break in his pride and Jungkook was looking down at you, shoulders flexed, jaw tight and eyes hazy, clear emotion swirling within them and you saw your own gaze fixated on him, wanting him more than you wanted the sex.

Oh.

Shit.

You gasped and dug your nails into his scalp, grasping the pillow and throwing your head back, not expecting the suddenness of your high, injected into your heartbeat and pushing all the air out of your lungs, veins ablaze with heat as your core clenched, inner walls throbbing all around him. Jungkook groaned, biting his lower lip and thrusting hard, the small mole underneath shaking just as hard as his shoulders, but he couldn’t hold back any longer, squeezing his eyes shut, muffled scream as he came, his head falling back, two tones the start of an ongoing, wanton melody.

“Holy… fuck…”

Well, more like unholy fuck but you didn’t correct him.

You kind of expected him to pull out and leave, but instead his head snapped back and he dived down, catching your lips and dripping sweat on you, making you both laugh. Kiss after kiss, all over your face, and you could barely sputter out – “Oi, you’re sweaty!” – but he didn’t care, kissing all over your cheeks and down your neck, your chest, slurping at your nipples, you narrowed your eyes at that but those playful eyes just sparkled with deviousness, trailing down, down.

Slowing.

Jungkook pressed his lips to your waist, looking up at you.

Your heart thundered against your chest and sparks danced over your skin.

Somehow at ease.

“What?”

You smiled down at him.

“I don’t ever want to leave your side.”

Your lips parted to give him a snappy comeback, yeah, well, I gotta go to work, but nothing came out.

Jungkook grinned, his whole face lighting up and dove between your legs, biting and kissing the inside of your thighs, attacking them with his menacing mouth.

“Hey! Oi! I’m sensitive, f-fuck!”

Even planting a fat wet kiss on your clit for good measure.

“Ah!”

Shoving his tongue in your pussy.

“YO!”

You gawked at his audacity, twisting away from him. Infuriatingly, he followed, scrambling for your ass.

“There was just a condom in there!”

“Ah, who cares,” said the one that clearly didn’t. “Kiss me.”

“Hell no!”

After cleaning up and pinning him down on his own bed and thoroughly scolding him, somehow you ended up making out with Jungkook and his fingers were in your pussy again. It sounded very wet and squishy down there, probably because you showed Jungkook just now much you liked kisses under your earlobe. His tongue against your skin, teeth nicking, sucking hard and making you moan and grind on his hand, pressing against his chest.

“Sit on my face,” he whispered in your ear.

Which was know you ended up grasping his headboard and his tongue between your legs, the piercing pressed against the left side of the outer lips. You kept your weight on your knees, but Jungkook grabbed your ass and tipped your hips at a different angle, your clit right on his tongue, his nose against your crotch.

“Fuuuuck, you smell so good…”

You could barely hear him but you felt him speak, gasping at the strange sensation of hot breath and swiping tongue, his lips wrapping around your most sensitive nerves. He had a much softer tongue, but there was consistency there and plenty of gusto. It helped, actually, to have his hands gripping your thighs, adding the amplifying pleasure of restraint. You rode his face, matching the movement of his tongue. One of your hands left the headboard. Trapped your nipples between your fingers and pulled at them, making Jungkook’s eyes go wide and watch eagerly, licking and sucking harder.

Layered and intricate, full of sensation and emotion, gazing down at him and smirking as the sparks turned into lightning and you soaked his face, shivering, tipping forward at the flinches of climax, swearing under your thin breath, panting, snapped tension draining you and wetly sticking to his lips, his tongue, his cheeks.

He shoved his tongue into your quivering pussy and you sucked in a breath, feeling your inner walls pulsate around his curling muscle, his low, gravelly moan filling what little air there was between his mouth and you, his satisfaction vibrating through your body and mixing with your afterglow.

You slid down his chest and kissed him again, tasting your subtle sweet-sour on his slick lips.

He wanted you to jack him off hard and fast, the fingers of your other hand splayed out over his chest, forgetting about anything else, time only a construct, your phones discarded by the door, and here, in this bed, there was only Jungkook and you, his cock pulsing in your grip, your foxy expression to his desperate one, his eyes rolling back in the intensity, biting down hard on the left side of his lip, the small mole underneath shaking in anticipation, the tendons of his neck popping out.

You raised your free hand and gently stroked his cheek with your knuckle as you punished his cock.

His lower lip popped out of his mouth and he groaned, rough and breathless.

“A-Ah, fuck!”

A hot stream of liquid dripping down the back of your hand, drenching you and him in the strong scent of sex. Thick and potent, and you leaned forward and kissed him deeply, tightly holding his jerking cock and squeezing it all out of him.

“You’re amazing,” Jungkook panted, even after getting up – once again – to attempt to clean up your collective mess.

“Mhm,” you hummed, sitting beside him. He was radiating heat. “I was never worried about that.”

“Hah… You’re… You’re crazy…”

You had obtained your phone and just now sent a message to your boss that you would be taking a sick day on Monday. You have plenty of those. “Speak for yourself.”

“I mean, you’re like… um… uh, oh! A semen demon…”

“What?”

You almost threw your phone in laughter. Actually, you couldn’t even hear Jungkook’s explanation for what the hell he meant by semen demon because you were laughing too hard, barely able to breathe. There wasn’t a normal explanation anyway – how could there be? – and you kept inelegantly snorting afterward at inappropriate times. Jungkook, for his part, seemed proud for making you laugh so much.

“You look so beautiful laughing.”

Your response was quick, immediate, and lighthearted.

“Shut up.”

He snuggled his still too warm head into the crook of your shoulder.

“Will you stay?”

You gave him a look and then showed him the sent text message on your phone. There was something special and perfect about the smile that lit up his face, clearly showing his devotion and clearly seeing yours.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

Jungkook skipped work too. Both of you ended up sleeping in.

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jungkook x noona #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

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janumun · 10 months ago

Text

A Lemurian’s Guide to Love (LaDS Rafayel – General NSFW Headcanons)

Rated: NSFW/18+

Tags: oral and vaginal sex, body worship, fingering, praise kink, facial, hand kink, Rafayel shenanigans, allusions to spoilers for Rafayel’s myth dates, certain ASMRs and his character story

Words: ~3k

Author’s Notes: The chokehold this man has on me (!!!) has led me to exploring Rafayel’s sexual foray as well as smidges of how I imagine his relationship to progress with his beloved in these headcanons.

Please take careful note of those tags and rating and proceed at your own discretion!

With that said, I hope you enjoy your read.

Rafayel has stood by and waited for you; over the course of several years — from that fated meeting and the result: a promise borne and broken — and through the descent of the sands of time.

And while he likes to consider himself a patient man — and to a degree, he has been just that; endurance incarnate over the course of those long, arduous years without his beloved at his side — when he does finally come across you, Rafayel finds his resolve ripple, and then gradually implode, into paper-thin fragments of yearning and fond desire.

From how Rafayel oft presents his public persona to the world — cool and dispassionate; a tepid smile on the ready for strangers who wish to garner his favour or attentions, one wouldn’t even think to scratch past that surface. The task of avoiding unnecessary engagements, especially since his return to Linkon City a few years prior, preceding his debut as an artist, is one he finds particularly cumbersome.

But during intimate moments, reserved for just the two of you, you see that exact same Rafayel — that handsome, charismatic artistic talent plastered, glossy, across covers of magazines and billboards — mould into silly scowls. A flair for the dramatics the minute he senses your attentions are not his alone for the taking. Ridiculous and feline-like in his excuses of demands from his ‘bodyguard’, to allow him her company.

After an endurance survived this incredibly long, he finds that in certain matters, he can no longer wait.

Great Lemurian entity he may be, but his habits fit firmer akin to a cat’s rather than any fish you’ve kept as a pet.

He likes to tease and prod at you, wind you up and then, burst into subdued laughter the moment you take his bait. He’s frighteningly adept at stringing you along to his whims, a certain boyish charm you’ve never seen him utilize on any of his vast majority of fans in public.

He loves to drag you out to impromptu sea-shell collecting ‘dates’ along the shores of Whitesand Bay, to capture the perfect pearlescent pink and silvers, to grind into paint on days he moans of “not having enough inspiration to paint’.

Tows you along for long drives in the vermillion convertible he was provided by Thomas, purchased from Rafayel’s private funds [the correct color he insisted on getting for the car before a poor Thomas was finally able to fulfil his request].

Had you both stranded miles away from home once, when he had a punctured tire and ‘forgot’ to ensure he had a spare to change, in case of emergencies.

And when you biked him back the rest of the way on a rental bicycle, you had the very nagging suspicion he wasn’t too upset about the mishap as he hummed an odd tune, seated behind you. Bodies close enough you felt the gentle vibrations of his voice deep within your bones, along with the steady movement of the tires hitting the paved road.

Truly a feline more than any amphibious creature.

A wondrous man, a delightful dissonance of character.

That very same man, when the two of you hold each other for the first time:

His digits scour a delicate path across your face, your jaw, down your neckline; Rafayel is incredibly, uncharacteristically quiet the first night you are his. Bathed a sterling blue under the watery gaze of the moon. Save for the thick hitch of his breath with the unveiling of bare skin, he is mute.

His eyes, however, a crisp indigo, seem to set an inextinguishable fire to the rest of your clothes.

He observes — engraves into memory — first with his gaze, and then, his fingers follow. Long, tapered digits mapping the shape of your breasts, thumb denting gentle at the peaks of them. A grip he tests, firm, against the supple flesh of your waist, flaring outwards into the soft squish of your hips.

He makes a sound then; incoherent, incomprehensible. Perhaps, an unconscious break of language into his native Lemurian tongue; the hoarse, barely compacted passion of it, however, conveyed to you in feelings.

You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Your first night is incredibly long, Rafayel shows you truly what it means to be made love to, you nearly weep of joy and pleasure.

He has waited, oh he has pined and wanted, for so long. It’s a surreal and soul shattering experience for him, just the blessing of you naked underneath his fingers alone, has all of Rafayel’s pretenses unravelling, all masks and facades falling away.

The first time, there is no teasing, no hiding.

Rafayel is immaculately thorough in his exploration of your body. His fingers; his preferred medium of following the swells and dips of his canvas — your body.

Unfortunately, and yet so very delightful for you; he takes his time sketching across your body throughout the night, providing no chance of rest or relief from the torrential waves of pleasure he crests through your body. His eyes trained fast on your face, for every slight quiver and break of you, witnessing your response to each single pinpoint of pleasure his fingers brush against.

Responding obedient to pleas of “oh, there, right there, Rafayel.”

This very first time, the sounds of you alone, moaning his name, could bring him to completion but he resists. Your pleasure, first and foremost, in his near-tunnel vision.

When the calls of his name upon your lips become unbearable, with the curve of his index and middle up into your warm wetness, Rafayel caves, like sand carried back into the depths of the sea, underneath the unrelenting break of waves. Long fingers indenting into pliant thighs as he cleaves them up and apart for unobstructed access to your weeping slit and presses a parched tongue to lap up your essence.

Curling his tongue up into your fluttering walls as his fingers dance against the tight bead of pleasure in between your legs, to the steady compresses of your thighs against the strength of his shoulders.

Rafayel adores and encourages your honesty in bed.

Ready to slow down when and if you tell him how overwhelmed you are. Takes you faster when you beg him to make you come with his mouth. All the while, that dark azure gaze is fixated upon you, the flush beneath them turned a deeper crimson with each sound of satisfaction he triumphantly plucks out of you.

Lashes descending involuntarily, only when you crest at the peak of your pleasure and flood yourself onto his waiting tongue. The taste of a delectable sea; he laps up every single drop of until he is sated.

And it is only when you implore Rafayel to put his cock inside you does he startle at the negligence of his body; hard and leaking, soiling the sheets beneath him.

When you finally, finally connect, painfully slow; the push comes without resistance offered, from how wet he has had you from his ministrations, for a good part of the night.

Rafayel has to struggle to breathe at the sensation of your warmth around him, tight, herculean control the likes of which he hasn’t ever had to scrabble for, ever in his life. To not just spill the moment he is inside you.

Her pleasure, I want to feel it. I want to make her feel good.

Still the sole thought behind that glazed, hot gaze. A moment of odd, emotional vulnerability when your eyes finally lock, your hands wandering now, to cup across his face.

And when he begins to move, Rafayel needs to feel each and every single part of you with every single fibre of his own. Fingers resuming their trek of their now favorite canvas as you murmur love and praise into his ears. The weight of a breast hefty against one large palm, the other with his fingers intertwined through yours as he propels into you.

Both of your releases, one and the same; as his eyes remain on the scrunch of your brow, just before he too falls, burying his face against the crescent of your neck.

Rafayel’s style of love-making is firmly passionate.

It is emotional, relieving and often times fun. He is incredibly adept at reading your cues and adjusting his pace according to your wants. Sex, in his mind, is an activity, as deserving of time and patience as his art — an intricate worship — and hence he usually requires the two of you have those several, long hours to spare before he gets to undressing you. Quickies, as such then, he isn’t a massive fan of.

Neither public spaces — a private dressing room at one of his events, requiring the two of you to be out within a certain time period — no matter how desperate or wanting he might be. Silencing your own protests with a long, hushed kiss and a skewed mischievous, flushed smile that has your heart quivering inside your chest. “Be a good girl now and wait,” he remarks before setting your disheveled collar back in order. The graceful sweep of his hand; for you to take, once you are done, ready to escort you out into the venue.

Open but private spaces, however, where you have time to spare and none to disturb, his private beach behind his home, is where you might find yourself spread wide across soft cloth. The cool waves of the shore lapping gentle at your tightly furled toes while Rafayel’s mouth works at the slick in between your legs. Truly his idea of a well-enjoyed romantic date.

On the note of basking in the benevolence of seas, Rafayel loves giving oral as much as he enjoys receiving it.

He isn’t incredibly vocal when it comes to giving voice to his desires, for having your mouth on him, often because he is more than happy [and engrossed] to have his mouth do all the talking (and lapping), while you luxuriate underneath the feel of his tongue and lips, like the [his] Queen you are. He loves servicing you to completion, no matter how much his tease of a foreplay may point to, otherwise.

It is only when your mouth takes him in for the first time, on your request do you make the delightful discovery of Rafayel’s little give-aways. The quiver of his fingers threaded firm through your hair. The clench of a fine toned abdomen, ripples of tight pleasure splaying across his torso.

“You’re doing so well, baby— hah, just like that. What have you done to me? You’re so good.”

The drop of his jaw, the fine, dark dusting of red smeared across his cheeks and ears. His slow, stuttered groans and pants. A deliberate suckle at his tip has him throwing his head back at the sensation, fingers spasming against the back of your skull. Your own resistance shattering and you take him in whole, the moan that chokes out of Rafayel’s throat in reward for your efforts is heaven enough, you keep returning for more.

Rafayel is loud and has no shame in showcasing his love and desire for you through the sounds he makes, just for you.

Part of the reason also why he prefers privacy to public displays of affection or quick sexual encounters. And he encourages just the same for you.

Be it the sounds of appreciation that leave his mouth, muffled and undulating, into your pussy or while he is inside of you, enjoying every single inch of your drenched, clenching flesh against his length.

“If you squeeze me that hard, I’m going to—”

Words fracturing apart into a long, stuttered moan he presses right against your lips. Foreheads slick with the sweat of your desires as he bears down against you. Bright blue gaze meeting yours — the gentle florid fringe of pinks — steeped in pleasure as his fingers curve about your jaw, pleading a kiss from your lips.

“My pretty girl.” A flushed devastating grin. “Let me come inside you. I want to feel the way your body clamps around me when I do. Gods, please.”

Rafayel is an immensely flexible lover. No rules are set in stone, no bedroom innovations entirely over-ruled before the two of you knock it at least once.

There is no sole lead; only the steps you weave in between you two, together. He is receptive to a wide variety of tastes and kinks; ever the most studious, eager participant, save for the rare personal boundary or two, he has set in place (see above: feelings regarding public sex).

Grasping your hand to fold a kiss against your palm as he moves within you. Bidding on sex-hoarse whispers to entrust yourself to his care while he sets to plunging your entire being into flames, pleasure so exhilarating you’re left grappling for air by the end of it all. All the while, he shapes his marks of adoration against your skin, soothing warmth to set nerves lax from all their previous exertion.

Or, when you ask it of him, supplicates himself — a willing, grinning participant — loving, puckish desire set to blaze within his dark eyes. Tracking each single move, the delicate fingers that sketch against his heaving abdomen, the hand that moves to enclose his cock in between eager digits and pump, slow: a delectable torture. And he responds in kind to your enthusiasm, if you leave his mouth unbound and able — sings for you as you so enjoy, in that rapturous voice you so adore. Lent a lascivious flavour from how his head rolls back across his neck in the throes of incoming release, the flush of him flooding down across his chest from how aroused he is for you to be doing what you are to him.

The sight of him in his entirety is enough for your own patience to wear paper-thin, drenched wet from the erotic picture he paints beneath you.

Rafayel’s house is a mess.

...Something he often brushes off as personal ‘creative choices’, declaring he finds a certain order to his disarray of things strewn about.

The colors he knows exactly where to pluck off the floor of his studio. A second draft of an upcoming painting, pinned underneath a [fish] magnet against the kitchen cabinet. A spare shirt draped across the arm of a sofa for when he wants to quickly switch out of pigment-stained clothes in between paintings.

However, he takes special care to keep his bedroom — or at the very least, on worse days, one sofa — in acceptable, spruced order. Especially so, after you start coming over to visit or stay the weekend, accompany him on days he holes himself up in his house, to pore over an artwork. Often so preoccupied, by the time he snaps out of it, several hours later: to a velvet sky outside and you scrunched up in an upright position, with your head coasting sideways at an uncomfortable angle, in your sleep.

The first and last time that happens as he carts you into his arms and off to his bedroom to tuck you into his bed and insists you retire to his bedroom on your own, the next morning, whenever you feel like dozing off. Making a point, then onwards to always have it ready and at your disposal.

For sleep and when you’re both not; tangled within each other and the sheets, cooling down from your highs.

Rafayel craves chaste physical intimacy post-coitus as he drags you into his arms, your breath warm against his chest. He despises being away from your comfort for even a moment’s breath; extra adorable and tetchy in his phase of dramatics if you try and squirm away.

Has startled you on one particular occasion; hunched, stark naked, by the door of the bathroom as you stepped out of it. A frown knit in between his brow, a disagreeable moue to that beautiful mouth and a simple, “I’m cold, warm me.”

An amalgamation of just how Rafayel is like and something else; deeper, you suspect it stems from unspoken fears of loneliness. There are nights you don’t quite understand, when his emotions run rampant and his need for physical affirmation and constant connection are strong; the man immediately soothed to rest the moment your hand is across his cheek, fingers caressing down the sculpt of his jaw. Tiring him at last into exhausted sleep. A vulnerability to his visage only you are allowed to stand witness to.

There is something so incredibly erotic about his girl when she lets him put his cock against her mouth...

Testing every single mental fortitude, he has ever had thrown up, walls of iron built over the course of centuries, crumbling at the feeling of your wet mouth against his length. Drawing him in before you swallow him, right to the base.

Taking his seed down your throat like the damn, amazing girl you are but if you pull back at just the right moment, firm fist bringing him to spill against your cheeks, traversing down the arc of your neck—

Rafayel’s thoughts frizzle into a numb void, mouth agape and panting. A scarlet flush dashed across the ridge of his cheekbones, his ears, to witness your face dirtied by smears of his cum. The sight truly untethers a carnal, primitive want in him, he isn’t able to fully parse himself.

Truly imprinted upon as the bride of the Sea God.

Your sexual sessions are more often than not, kicked off on sensual, fun notes and back-and-forths.

A stray jibe you might throw his way at one of his odd habits and he’s plucking you right off your feet. Nimble digits feathering down the expanse of your abdomen in retaliation before you’re reduced to giggles; both of your fingers catching at the other’s clothes in an attempt for dominance before you drift, natural, against the other’s mouth in soft, scheming smiles.

Or, when you reach to strike the firm muscle of his behind, the sweet, silly twist to his mouth right as he startles, an indignant, scandalized gaze he rolls your way. “Why, you—” Before you reach to grasp him by the collar and drag down towards your waiting, open mouth. Lips drawing wide into a smile as you feel his reciprocated urgent squeeze across your ass; the pads of his fingers tracing the lining of your panties beneath your skirt. “Don’t make me return the favor several fold, pretty siren.”

The bite of restive teeth he sinks into his lower lip as he hauls you up and against his rigid length. Before you reach forward, disengaging his lip, to suckle it into your own mouth. “Try me.”

The act itself leaning more into the romance of the moment and slow, deep thrusts into your body as Rafayel drifts against you. Mouthing every piece of spare skin in sight, affirmations and assurances as clear and heard as the moans that tumble from his lips.

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literaryvein-reblogs · 6 months ago

Text

Writing Notes: On Colour

Describing Colour in your Poetry and Stories

BLACK Shadow Black, Dusk, Midnight, Blackbird, Blackberry, Ebony, Black Honey, Darkness, Jet Black, Ink Black, Soot, Onyx, Licorice, Ivory Black, Pitch, Char, Gloom, Outer Space, Creosote Black, Melanite, Goth Black, Gunpowder

BLUE Blueberry, Sapphire Blue Metallic, Tiffany Blue (Pantone 1837), Cobalt Blue, Denim, Aquamarine, Turquoise, Sky Blue, Topaz, Ultramarine Blue, Azure, Cerulean, Oxford Blue, Periwinkle, Electric Blue, Baby Boy Blue, Pthalo Blue, Robin's Egg Blue, Persian Blue, Marino Blue, Prussian Blue

GREEN Leafy Green, Olive, Moss Green, Jade, Lime, Sour Apple Green, Emerald Green, Mint, Kiwi Green, Phthalo Green, Praying Mantis Green, Viridian, Greenback, Shamrock, Sap Green, Chartreuse, Sea Green, Pistachio, Teal, Bamboo, Sea Salt, Celadon Green, Celery, Asparagus Green, Fern Green, Neon Green, Jungle Green, Pear Green

ORANGE Pumpkin, Burnt Orange, Carrot, Sunset Orange, Tangerine, Persimmon, Salamander, Tennessee Orange (Pantone 151), Jack-o'-lantern Orange, Florida Orange, Summer Squash, Pale Daffodil, Smashed Pumpkin, Saffron, Autumn Orange, Macaroni and Cheese, Cadmium Orange

PINK Pink Flamingo, Neon Pink, Bubblegum Pink, Salmon, Peach, Fuscia, Cotton Candy Pink, Rose, Carnation, Thulian, Apricot, Atomic Pink, Barbie Pink, Hot Pink, Amaranth, Flushed, Glitter Pink

PURPLE Lavender, Purple Haze, Grape, Eggplant Purple, Plum, Violet, Orchid, Psychedelic Purple, Amethyst, Lilac, Boysenberry, Mulberry, Wisteria, Bruised Plum, Indigo, Mauve

RED Blood Red, Copper, Maroon, Strawberry, Watermelon Red, Crimson, Candy Apple Red, Tomato, Brick Red, Scarlet, Cardinal Red, Cherry, Ruby Red, Coral, Sunburn, Hot Lava, Cadmium Red, Auburn, Blush, Alizarin Crimson, Fire Engine Red, Raspberry, Vermillion, Lipstick, Burgundy, Magenta, English Vermilion, Mahogany

WHITE Dirty White, Albino, Chalk, Alabaster, Cotton, Titanium White, Vanilla, Bone White Egg Shell, Marshmallow, Ivory, Pearl White, Almond, Champagne, Blond, Cream, Milky White, Corn Silk, Bleach, Navajo White, Ghost White, Light, Cloud White

YELLOW Canary Yellow, Lemon, Banana, Egg Yolk Yellow, Mellow Yellow, Chanterelle, Mustard Yellow, Corn, Goldenrod, Amber, Pineapple, Metallic Gold, Cadmium Yellow, Wheat, Tuscan Sun, Butter, School Bus Yellow, Yellow Ochre, Citron, Dandelion

BROWN Mud Brown, Beaver, Caramel, Rust, Macaroon, Toasty Brown, Coffee, Sandy Tan, Cocoa, Honey, Chocolate, Burnt Sienna, Mocha, Seashell, Antique Brass, Bronze, Brown Sugar, Chestnut Brown, Taupe, Burnt Umber, Khaki, Dark Sienna, Light Chocolate, Sepia

GRAY Stone Gray, Ash, Metallic Silver, Platinum, Smoke, Concrete Gray, Mercury, Steel Gray, Mist, Titanium, Charcoal, Slate, Sterling Silver, Tungsten, Old Coin Gray, Iron Gray, Chrome, Magnesium, Overcast

MIXED Candy Cane (red and white), Zebra (black and white), Chameleon (many different colours), Ladybug (black and red), Wildfire (yellow, orange and red), Tiger (orange, black and white), Yellow Jacket (black and yellow), Christmas Lights (red, white and green), Rainbow (red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet), Black Pepper (black and gray), Leopard (spotted gold and black), Creamsicle (orange and white), Candy Corn (orange and white), Iceberg (a bluish gray), Marbled

COLOURS: Symbolisms, Associations & Psychological Effects

Black. Especially in Gothic literature from the West, a black colour choice often represents death, evil, grief, and depression. Associated with fear, the unknown and often has a negative connotation. Black clothes can make you look thinner. A black background severely diminishes the readability of most type. Often the go to colour for funerals and grieving. It symbolizes stability and power, which gives a sense of authority. Thus, the black colour often represents professionalism and expertise.

Blue. Has positive and negative connotations in colour psychology. Some writers may use blue to represent serenity and tranquility, instilling a scene with a calming effect. Blue can also signify sadness, melancholy, or isolation. People who find someone very loyal and faithful are often called "true blue". Blue is often considered to be more masculine which is why it is often the colour of choice when choosing a suit. Lighter blues are associated with tranquility, softness and healing. Darker blues are associated with power, knowledge and seriousness. Blue is actually shown to suppress appetites a bit. The colour blue symbolizes wisdom and hope. It’s the colour of peace and confidence. Blue has been shown to reduce blood pressure and pulse rate. It fosters serenity and a sense of belonging.

Green. The colour green often symbolizes rebirth, growth, peace, jealousy, and greed. Green colours may also represent spring and renewal. It is a colour that is very easy on the eyes. Dark green is often associated with ambition. Green suggests stability, safety and hope. At the same time, it may denote a lack of experience in a particular field. Green symbolizes peace, growth, and nature. It is the colour of success, promoting healing and tranquility.

Orange. The colour orange often represents energy, excitement, joy, and creativity. Since orange is the colour of fire, it may also symbolize heat. Since orange is not as aggressive as red, it can actually stimulate brain activity. It is very useful to catch someone's attention, which is why it's used a lot to advertise food and toys.

Pink. The colour pink symbolizes love, kindness, femininity, innocence, and playfulness. Certain shades of pink can limit aggression. Pink may be associated with unconditional love and caring.

Purple. Often associated with royalty, the colour purple symbolizes bravery, spirituality, and luxury. Light purple usually brings up romantic or nostalgic feelings; while a darker shade can make you feel gloomy or sad.

Red. The colour red symbolizes some of the most powerful human emotions, like passionate love or lust. On the other side of the spectrum, this warm colour is also the colour of blood, often symbolizing anger, danger, and violence. It stimulates the appetite. Red is an emotionally intense colour associated with energy, danger, anger, passion and determination. The symbolic meaning associated with the colour red is passion, excitement, and love. It’s the colour of urgency, power, and desire. Red is said to boost hunger and is believed to inspire confidence and excitement. This colour has also been found to increase blood pressure and heart rate.

White. This primary colour traditionally symbolizes innocence, peace, and cleanliness. In Western cultures, the colour white also represents purity and virginity, while it symbolizes mourning in some East Asian cultures. Usually has positive connotations when used and thought of as safe. Associated a lot with healing, simplicity and sterility, which is why it's used in hospitals and healing centers as much as it is. The symbolic meaning of the colour white is truth and sometimes even indifference. It encourages feelings of safety and cleanliness. Clean, white clothes and linens show sterility since stains are easily visible. That’s why doctors and nurses frequently wear white lab coats and scrubs.

Yellow. Writers may use the colour yellow to symbolize creativity, happiness, optimism, and warmth—think of a yellow ray of sunlight poking out from a dark cloud. A common negative connotation of the color yellow is cowardice, popularized by the phrase “yellow-bellied.” Warming effect which stimulates body and mind. Gold is associated with the highest of luxury. When bright yellow is used with black it's one of the easiest colour combinations to see from long distances; when uses with lighter colours it's not so easy to see. Yellow ribbons are worn as a symbol of hope and used quite often to welcome home loved ones. Yellow is the colour of warmth, kindness, and happiness. It’s often associated with optimism and well-being and promotes energy.

Brown. This warm, earthy brown colour may symbolize dependability, comfort, and a sense of being grounded. Brown is also a neutral colour, and writers may use it to represent dullness and predictability. Brown is a colour that is related to very grounded traits such as simplicity, practicality, common sense and hard work. Can also be associated with those that are frugal and not too flashy.

Gray. Lighter grays are often thought of as more feminine while darker grays more masculine. Gray is considered by many to be a neutral colour; the perfect balance between light and dark / good and evil. Pop up the lighter grays and add a little shine to it, and thought immediately turns to silver, which correlates to wealth.

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 2 years ago

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The Other Half

Winter Prompts Masterlist | Winter Prompts List

Part Two | Masterlist

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

Prompts: Sales/ Sparkling/ Opposites Attract

“Customer.”

You glance over toward a man looking in a display case as your manager nods them toward you. You puff softly before slapping a customer-service-ready smile onto your face. You’ve been avoiding really working for the last hour; you’ve been able to hide, shuffling things around in the stockroom before your manager had insisted that you return to the floor. You’re working on commission, though—you need the sales, especially with Christmas just around the corner. You still have a couple of last-minute gifts to get.

You walk over to the man peering into a sparkling display case, stopping just beside him.

“Is there something I can help you find today?” You ask.

“Yes,” The man raises his hand, tapping on the top of the case. “I’d like to see that tie clip, the uh…The silver one with the scroll work.”

There's something familiar about his voice, but you don't read too much into it. You round the counter, drawing a small key ring from your pocket.

“The sterling silver? An excellent choice. It’s one of a kind,” You commend as you lift the small display out of the case and onto the counter. “And we have a special sale on these this week.”

The man chuckles, offering, “I’m not particularly worried about it being on sale.”

Cocky much?

You glance at the man, then freeze, eyes widening. There’s no way that the goddamn Prince of Gotham is on your counter right now. Luckily for you, he’s focused on the tie clips. Maybe he knows you’re staring and is just ignoring it. Maybe he’s just so used to the sensation that he simply doesn’t register it anymore.

You clear your throat, forcing yourself to refocus as he reaches out, hand hovering over the tie clip.

“May I?” He asks.

“Of course,” You nod. You don’t expect him to run with it—the guy’s got more money than god. He slides his coat off of where it’s slung over his arm, setting it down on the counter and taking up the tie clip. You rest your hands steadily on the counter, watching his face as he eyes the clip. His eyes narrow a touch as he sweeps his thumb over the scroll work.

“May I ask who you’re purchasing this for?” You ask.

“My butler.”

Your brows raise a touch. You’d imagine that Bruce Wayne would be the type to give someone a store credit, and to tell them to buy something they like.

“What’s his style?” You ask, though it feels like the wrong question—and by the way Wayne’s eyes flicker to you, you realize that it sort of is.

“I suppose he’d describe it as understated. I call it boring.” He looks back down at the tie clip. “I was hoping to get him something to mix it up a little bit.”

You smile a little.

“Well, if you like that tie clip, we have matching cuff links to pair with them.”

“I’d like to see those.”

“Of course.” You crouch down again, drawing up the display with cuff links and setting it on the counter beside the tie clips. He sets the tie clip down, leaning over and narrowing his eyes slightly to look at the cuff links. After a moment, to your great surprise, he plants his elbow on the counter and rests his chin on his hand. You can’t help but smile. He looks like an indecisive little boy.

“What does your butler like?” You ask.

“...Mopping,” He answers after a moment, “And berating me.”

You laugh a little, unable to help it. “Something tells me he only really likes one of those.”

Wayne’s gaze flickers to yours, and you’re surprised to see him smiling, himself. It makes your smile widen before you arch a brow. “So?”

“Come to think of it, he likes gardening,” Wayne adds, straightening up.

“Perhaps a new set of gardening gloves?” You offer. “Or a trug?”

“What’s a trug?”

“It’s like a long sort of shallow basket for carrying back flowers and produce and tools.”

“...They sell those here?”

“Yes,” You nod, “The gardening section is on the fifth floor.”

“Okay,” He nods, rapping his knuckles on the counter. “Wrap up the tie clip and the cuff links, and then let’s go.”

You blink at him in surprise before you glance back toward where your manager is watching you closely.

“Ah—I’m not sure I can go with you to another floor,” You laugh nervously as you take up gift boxes for the tie clip and cuff links. “But I’ll be happy to call down and ask for a a sales associate that could help you.”

Wayne frowns a touch, gaze sweeping you before he looks around. “Where’s your manager?”

Oh—No. Are you going to get in trouble for following the fricking rules? Is he going to change his mind about the tie clip and the cuff links? The two items alone would net you a commission of almost $500. But you force a placid expression onto your face before raising your hand, signaling for your manager to come over. A dark expression crosses her face, and it turns your stomach.

“Yes, sir,” She chirps, coming to the counter and stopping beside Wayne, “How can I—” She goes silent as she realizes who he is. Her jaw drops a touch at the sight of him before she stutters, “How can I—I—Yes, sir?”

Wayne’s smile shifts to something that you haven’t seen at the counter—a press-ready, plasticized grin.

“Your associate has been incredibly helpful.”

“I trained her myself,” Your manager grins. You can’t help but roll your eyes. She certainly did not—you’ve been here for a year longer than she has.

“Well, you’ve done a marvelous job,” Wayne insists. “In fact, I’ve found her assistance so invaluable that I was hoping you could spare her for a little while.”

“Spare…?” The manager repeats, eyes darting between you, Wayne, and the gift boxes on the counter.

“Mr. Wayne is interested in a few items in the gardening department,” You clarify.

“Her sense of style and function are just…” Wayne trails off, lips curling teasingly as he shoots you a sneaky, cheeky wink, “Just what I need.”

You don’t even care if he’s exaggerating for the sake of your manager; the flattery still makes your face go hot, and that wink—you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

“I suppose we could manage without her for a little while—But not too long. She’s such a valuable asset to the department,” Your manager coos. Well. That’s news to you—especially considering how much you slacked off that morning.

“If you could have these rung up,” Wayne reaches out, tapping at the top of the gift boxes, “And hold them for me here.”

“Of course. They were the…” Your manager glances toward you expectantly.

“The sterling silver scroll work tie clip, and the matching cuff links,” You relay.

“What beautiful choices! You have such a sense of taste, Mr. Wayne,” You manager turns a bright eye toward him again. You have to bite your tongue to keep from scoffing aloud. You’ve never seen her fawn over anyone like this. Mr. Wayne just smiles and gives a nod, taking up his coat from the counter as you tuck the two displays back into the counter, locking them up.

“Shall we?” Wayne asks, nodding toward the elevator.

“Of course,” You nod.

“Take your time!” Your manager adds brightly.

“Thank you,” Wayne rests his hand on her shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze before turning away. The two of you walk over to the elevator, and you clasp your hands in front of yourself as you wait. Wayne gestures for you to step on first, then follows, watching you jab the button for the fifth floor. It’s quiet between you for a moment before Wayne says,

“Is she always that bad?”

You can’t help but burst into giggles, raising your hand and covering your mouth.

“I think you brought something new out in her,” You tease. You lead the way off of the elevator as you reach the fifth floor. “Do you have any other people that you need to shop for?”

“What other people?” Wayne repeats. Your stomach swoops with panic. You know what happened to his parents—everyone does.

“A girlfriend, perhaps?” You clarify.

“Ah,” He nods in understanding before shaking his head. “No.” The two of you go quiet for a moment before he asks, “Have you gotten all of your shopping done?”

“Not all of it,” You sigh.

“What do you still need?”

“Something for my roommate—and uh, probably something for her parents. We’re going to hers for Christmas.”

“What about your family?”

“They live in Metropolis.”

“Are you from there?”

“No, no, I’m from Gotham. They moved there last year.”

“Why?”

“It’s just more affordable.” It feels like something stupid to say to a billionaire, but it’s the truth—and considering his comment on your manager’s countenance, you think he’s pretty good at seeing through falsity. But he just nods a little bit, looking forward.

“Here,” You gesture toward the display of gardening gloves, tucking your hands behind yourself. Wayne hums, taking a step closer and peering at the selection with the same interest that he looked at the tie clips and cuff links.

“Are there any that stick out to you?” You ask, looking around.

“He has a scarf similar to…Those,” He points to a check-patterned pair by you. You let out an interested hum, nodding and taking them up.

“They’re cute,” You turn them over, eyeing the fingertips, “And they’ve got little pads so that you can text while you’re wearing them.”

“I’m not sure Alfred would worry about that,” Wayne smiles, “Though I’ll be sure to mention it to him.”

You smile a little before nodding to the display. “All set here?”

“Mm, let’s make it two pair…You choose one.”

You consider, looking down at the gloves in your hand. If he’s getting one patterned pair…Maybe a plain pair? You look around, drawing your lip between your teeth as you consider. Then you reach out, snagging a pair of forest green gloves. Wayne reaches out, taking them from you.

“He’ll like these,” He says softly. You smile, relieved.

“Now,” Wayne adds, looking around. He seems to be squinting and pouting for emphasis. “On to the…shrug?”

“Trug,” You correct, “But I think you know that, Mr. Wayne.”

He catches your eye, his brows twitching in surprise. Then he smiles warmly, giving a small nod of concession, muttering, “Touché.”

“They’re this way,” You nod around the corner.

It doesn’t take the two of you long to choose what he considers a suitable trug—a light grained wood base with mahogany handles and silver fastenings. You expect to leave it there—to lead Wayne to the counter, to thank him for his business, and to go back to work. Instead, Wayne tells the clerk that he’ll be back for the gloves and trug, and then turns to you.

“Walk me to the elevator?” He asks.

“Of course.”

You ignore your coworker’s stunned expression and turn, leading the way down the aisle. Maybe he wants to go back upstairs and get the cuff links and tie clip. But—

“What are you doing for lunch?” He asks.

It feels like an illicit rush to get out of there—redirecting Wayne to the staff exit so that you wouldn’t be clocked by the security guard for leaving. He’d put his coat around your shoulders as the two of you had stepped into the Gotham chill. You hadn’t gone far—you’d insisted that you couldn’t. You’d wound up at a diner just a few blocks away from the store.

You glance at Wayne now, and smile as you watch him look around the diner.

“Why’d you ask me?” You ask after a moment. “Wanted to see how the other half eats?”

He chuckles, leaning back in his seat a touch and meeting your eye again. “I’ll have you know that I ate at plenty of places like this when I went to Princeton. Besides, you said you wanted to come here.”

“If I had asked to go somewhere else—”

“We would’ve gone there instead.”

“Even if it was some five-star something something?”

“Especially if it was some five-star something something. I’m guessing the wine list here is a little lackluster.”

You snort, looking down at your menu.

“...Why did you ask?” You press nervously. He doesn’t answer for a moment, and you glance up at him from beneath your lashes. He’s watching you closely, eyes wandering your face.

“Because you spoke to me like a person. Not like how your manager spoke to me, not like I’m ‘Bruce Wayne’.”

The admission is surprising. You hesitate before you argue, “But you are Bruce Wayne.”

He smiles softly.

“I know that and you know that,” He leans in, folding his arms on the table. “But I like it better when neither of us act like it.”

Part Two

Tag list: @amneris21 ; @elen-aranel ; @brandyllyn ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight

#Bruce Wayne x Reader #Bruce Wayne x You #Bruce Wayne/Reader #Bruce Wayne/You #Bruce Wayne fic #Bruce Wayne imagine #Bale!Batman #Fluffcember #Fluffcember 2022 #Winter Writing Prompts #The Other Half

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melodymunson · 6 months ago

Text

Steddie x fem reader blurb

Steve Harrington X Female!Reader featuring Eddie Munson

Stranger Things AU

"There's no one like you"

Mentions of sex, MFM threesomes, and breeding.

1,074 Words

ao3 link

Steve was the best friend you could ever ask for. Even though Robin and him were close you were his best friend too. You were always there for him especially when Nancy Wheeler broke his heart for Jonathan Byers. For some reason, she found comfort in Jonathan's arms and cheated emotionally and mentally on Steve. Needless to say, it hurt Steve and he truly felt love for Nancy at one point in his life.

He always thought of you as one of the guys. You wanted to make him jealous so you started dating another guy Billy Hargrove. Steve didn't like Billy and had no problem voicing his distaste for him. Billy was someone you didn't even really like you just wanted Steve to admit he loved you instead of seeing you as just a best friend type. Billy would emotionally and mentally abuse you until you couldn't take it anymore so you ended it and Steve consoled you.

One night you were at a party with Steve and everyone including Robin, Jonathan, Argyle, Eddie, and Chrissy were getting drunk playing spin-the-bottle and your bottle kept landing on Steve. After three kisses and three times it landed on him it was seven minutes in heaven time together. You confided in Steve your true feelings which had him admitting his feelings for you too and you had one of the hottest ever makeout sessions together. Robin was so happy for you right after that because you asked Steve to be your boyfriend while working at family video, and he said yes.

You went on many dates after that including Enzo's, a movie/ice cream date, a camping trip, a road trip to the beach for a weekend, time at the cabin, and many others. Whenever you cuddled Steve was always the big spoon wrapping his big, strong arms tightly around you. On your three-month anniversary together he bought you a sterling silver charm bracelet with your initials, his initials, and your birthstone. Steve took you on many surprising and romantic dates that were so cute like a walk in the park/picnic, roller skating at the rink, an arcade date that included a mall shopping trip, and hiking/camping.

Eventually, Eddie came into the picture because you auditioned for Corroded Coffin to be their third guitarist and got the job. Steve and Eddie were already friends and Eddie was amazed by your guitar skills happy to have a girl in the band since his friend Ronnie left as Corroded Coffin's drummer and was replaced by Gareth. Steve and Robin would always attend the Hideout shows and clap the loudest in the front row and after Steve would buy everyone celebratory drinks backstage. After a bit of drinking one night, you confessed to Steve and Eddie how you wanted to have a threesome and they were more than happy to indulge your fantasy.

Your first time together with Steve and Eddie was the night after the concert and they took you first to Enzo's for a nice and classy meal for dinner and then the drive-in movies. After you went back to Steve's house and skinnydipped while listening to Corroded Coffin's newest album on cassette. You had a nice shower after that with lots of touching and kissing which ended in Steve and Eddie finger-fucking you until you came two times. They treated you like a Queen washing you up and giving you the best orgasms before things moved to Steve's bedroom and his King-sized bed with blue silk sheets and matching pillowcases.

Eddie and Steve took turns eating your pussy and fingering you until you came at least three times, you sucked them off sloppy just like they loved it, and for the first time, you experienced double vaginal penetration. Your screams and moans combined with theirs echoed off the walls and needless to say, you made a big mess of Steve's huge bed. You shared the best pre-rolled joints with them courtesy of Reefer Rick and planned to do it all over again soon but filming it and making your homemade porno to watch. They made you breakfast in bed the day after and you had another mind-blowing shower with being eaten out and squirting for them.

The day you made the porno you were wearing the prettiest black with red trim lingerie, fishnet tights, and silky red gloves. The video camera began and foreplay started with Steve and Eddie using your glass dildo on you, sucking your nipples/fondling your breasts, and you giving them handjobs. You sucked off Eddie as Steve fucked your pussy raw getting spit-roasted until they switched places and after came all over your ass and in your mouth. Deciding to try something new you let them take turns fucking your ass after they used lots of lube on you before fucking your ass together making a mess of you in the end by cumming all over your stomach and breasts.

Sometime later after the homemade porn, Eddie and Steve jointly proposed to you with the biggest and best wedding ring with your birthstone and entwining hearts on either side of the stone. The wedding was casual and beautiful but also something small because the three of you preferred it that way but it was the best wedding ever for you, Steve, and Eddie. The wedding was in Hawkins near the lake with Dustin, Lucas, Max, Eleven, Joyce, Hopper, Argyle, Robin, Uncle Wayne, and Jonathan as the photographer before the honeymoon in Fiji and New Zealand. They had the biggest breeding kinks and loved to say they were going to breed you every chance they got even before the wedding and when you were still on birth control.

Soon you were pregnant with twins because the night of the honeymoon you stopped taking birth control after Steve and Eddie agreed it would be the best choice to start your little family together as soon as possible. Steve and Eddie were thrilled to be fathers now and have a little family with you. The twins were a girl and boy and so you named them Wayne and Elizabeth after Eddie's uncle and mom. There was so much love in your relationship with them and you were having the best life together in Indiana there was nothing more to ask for until you got pregnant two more times and adopted two kids, Steve finally had all six of his little nuggets.

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cupids-chamber · 2 years ago

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— “ SUGAR DATE ! “ Commissioned by anonymous user Gender neutral reader/ Fluff

He waited for you all bit patiently, checking his phone every now and then, as he sat there waiting for you to arrive at your designated meet up spot. It wasn't that you were late, no.. far from that, Rollo was unbelievably early to your meet up spot, but he couldn't help it, he wanted to see you, the two of you went to separate schools and had separate classes, it was rare for you to meet up with him, so how could he not, make sure to come early.. Maybe coming over half an hour early was a bit overkill though..

But it was worth it, coming early, waiting for what seemed to be hours for you to arrive.. Was all worth it, when he saw your face again. He greeted you happily with a smile, as he excitedly guided you throughout the city. Today was your three month anniversary, and Rollo has decided that they should explore the City of Flowers, trying out many different pastries and exploring the sights together. He wasn’t one for long sluggish walks in the hot sun, where he felt like death, yet today, the weather was perfect, as he guided you throughout the park, where you two met up.

The two of you looked around the park, going on a couple of rides in the park, there wasn't many as the target demographic was definitely not you both, however you both enjoyed your time there, mid way through, Rollo found an ice cream booth, and you both couldn't help but try one of the odd special options, it was new and you both did plan on exploring the area and trying all of the sweets, they had to offer, so why not start off strong?

The ice cream tasted good actually, the combinations of flavors seemed a bit unsatisfactory to look at but it tasted amazing, the two of you finished your dessert, and Rollo offered you a hand, which you graciously accepted, he lead you throughout the outskirts of town, and the two of you found yourselves, going through town and the many shops on the street, enjoying the view and scenery, and the affordable prices!

The two of you found yourselves looking around the boutiques and antique shops, looking around for things you wanted, seemingly window shopping, sometimes stopping at street vendors and buying an occasional snack, for the 'city of flowers', the food there was probably the best part of it all, though that's not to say that the scenery was inferior.

Rollo found himself taking multiple photos of you, asking you to pose for a picture as he took them, he wasn't often in these photos as he sat there admiring your beauty as he shot many pictures of you under the sun, in many different beautiful settings, basking in your beauty, he complimented you multiple times throughout the day, though it wasn't as blunt as one would expect, as he'd get shy when admitting how he felt, and how beautiful he actually thought you were.

The two of you had bought quite more stuff than you had expected as the trip's main intention and goal was to just sightsee and experience the culture and taste the sugary treats, but both of you enjoyed your anniversary nonetheless, buying matching bracelets, they were made of sterling silver and they held a mini charm of sorts, and the magnet on the charm was laced with magic, so it would only connect to it's missing pair, which Rollo wore.

Rollo had also gifted you with small handmade hair clips, they were purple and white in color, with a simple design and charm on them, the gesture was cute, especially when you knew that he hand made them, taking the time to make it specifically for you. He put the matching set of clips on your hair, decorating your bangs, as he smiled, “You look so pretty…”, he said unconsciously, blushing slightly when he realized what he had said. You chuckled in response, which only made the man all the more flustered.

The two of you had finally made a stop, at an actual cafe, tired from walking with all these bags, especially you, you who refuted Rollo's help and made a front about how you could carry all your bags, confidently, only to be shocked with the revolution, that you cannot actually carry all the bags around, continuously, and function while walking for an hour straight.

As the two of your orders are taken, Rollo sighs, laying his head on the table and looking at you with a soft smile, "Thank you for spending the day with me today dear... I love you…", he said with a big smile, as he closed his eyes, drifting to sleep…. maybe you should wake him up after your order arrives, he looked adorable in this state.

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lailoken · 9 months ago

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Traditional Evil Eye Amulets (SOLD OUT)

The Evil Eye is an affliction recognized and dreaded across cultures, with innumerable traditional practices utilized to avert its affect. One especially popular method for protecting against the Evil Eye is the employment of magical devices designed to turn away its influence, and what I offer here is one such traditional amulet.

Each amulet is crafted from hand-foraged shed horn antlers, which I cut and sanded to shape, before lightly sealing them with a ritually empowered wood varnish made from a number of arboreal resins, such as Dragon's Blood, Storax, and Amber. Using this same empowered varnish, I then meticulously capped the tips of each piece with a gilding leaf made from .999 Pure Silver. When they were all fully dried and burnished, I sealed each piece with one final coat of preservative lacquer and set each one with a Sterling Silver pendant bail. With physical construction complete, each amulet was hallowed in a Warding Ritual, which activated and aligned the defensive virtues present therein.

Each piece can be purchased on my webshop, Wending Wares, as a standalone pendant, or can be outfitted with a Sterling Silver box chain measuring approximately 18 inches / 46 centimeters in length for an extra fee using the drop-down menu. Feel free to reach out through tumblr as well, if you can't use my website for some reason.

If your piece breaks suddenly, it traditionally indicates that it has absorbed an especially potent attack directed at its bearer. It should, thereafter, be buried at a Crossroads. If this does happen, and you find that you would like a replacement piece, simply reach out with a picture of the broken amulet, and I will gladly offer a new one at a discount.

#evil eye #evil eye jewelry #evil eye protection #amulets #protection magic #wending wares #antler #silver

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sturnioloshacker · 11 months ago

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gift of forgiveness - a chris sturniolo short

a/n: requested by anon; lowercase intended

summary: after hurtful words were exchanged, chris attempts to make it up to his girlfriend

after hurtful words were exchanged and tears flowed, chris had to take y/n back to her place. the hum of the engine and the soft music in the background creating a peaceful yet eerie atmosphere between the couple. the tension between them was awkward and thick, neither of them wanting to say a word. especially chris. he knew he messed up big time with his choice of words. as they cruised along winding roads, he looked in the rearview mirror at the girl he adored the most in the backseat. her arms crossed over her chest, glossy eyes looking out the window.

“baby, please listen to me. you don’t have to say anything, but please hear me out.” he speaks, his soft tone causing y/n to turn towards him.

the girl turns to look into her boyfriend’s eyes, her heart slowly mending itself back together when she finally realises that he wants to apologise.

“i’ve been thinking a lot about what happened a couple of hours ago, and i want you to know i’m sorry,” he admitted, his eyes reflecting genuine regret.

“thank you baby, i appreciate that.” she softly smiles at him, causing him to break into a small smile

as they continue the drive to y/n’s house, chris steered toward a quaint roadside shop.

“chris, what are you doing? why are we here?”

“thought we’d make a quick stop. i’ll be back, promise.”

“well i need to use the bathroom anyway so i’ll meet you back at the car.”

once she enters the little cafe, chris makes his way into the quiet jewellery shop in the corner of the shopping strip. he browses through every item before focusing on a sterling silver necklace with an infinity charm made out of pure diamond. he pays for the necklace and heads back to the car. he quickly breathes a sigh of relief when he doesn’t find y/n in the car as he didn’t want her seeing him walk out of the store. after 5 more minutes of waiting, y/n finally comes back, only this time she hops into the passenger seat. noticing the big smile on his face, y/n knows something’s up almost immediately.

“christopher, what did you do now?”

“nothing. okay, something.”

“tell me.”

“it’s nothing bad. i just got you a little something. i hope this makes up for things.” he explains as he hands the small box to his beautiful girl.

y/n opens the box and gasps at the sight of the necklace sparkling in the sunlight. the subtle shimmer making it look elegant as she pulls it out to get a better look at it. she goes to put it on before chris gently takes it from her, putting it on her himself. as he clips the necklace in place, y/n can’t help but let a few tears escape. he really knew his way to her heart.

“it’s so beautiful, chris. i love you so much.” she gushes, placing a kiss on her man’s lips.

“beautiful like you, mamas. i love you so much”.

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo fluff #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets fanfic #sturniolo triplets imagine #sturniolo triplets fluff

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jarofstyles · 2 years ago

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Reaper 3

Reaper is a dark story with dark and mature subject matter. 18+ NSFW

Sorry, the update is a bit late but better late than never right? ALSO they're finally getting touchy in this chapter, this one is fluffy compared to the next chapter... so please enjoy the calm before the storm :)

wc: 10k

Warnings: a touch of smut, stalking, talk of crime and gangs, misogyny, general dudes being assholes, talk of violence, gun and weapon mentions, etc

Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive writing!

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“Come on, Bunny. We can get breakfast out before I drop you at school.” Harry was a big fan of breakfast food, especially at the Silver Spoon. It was one of the only places that hadn’t changed in this town, it gave him a sense of stability. He and Sterling had weekly meals there and now it was time for him to bring Bunny.

He figured it would be a good way for them to start their journey as a couple. The windows gave the son of the bitch the perfect opportunity to peep at them.

It’s a good thing Harry was planning to give him a show.

Y/N loved the silver spoon, so she had no complaints. She had practically ran to the door, pulling on her boots quickly so they didn’t have to rush with eating.

Having her on the back of his bike was a thrill.

No one ever rode with him except her, actually. The first time had been a few years ago when she’d gotten herself mixed up in a bad part of town at a party and called Harry instead of Sterling because his wrath was far less scary- at least to her, it seemed. But this ride was much different. A different sort of tension rose in his guts when she had her hands wrapped around him, seeing her polished nails gripping his shirt right over his stomach. Her head rested against him but was covered in a helmet. He had to get her one of her own. His sunglasses covered his eyes, the warm sun bearing down on them as they approached Silver Spoon.

The rumbling of his engine cut off and he tapped her hands to signal she could let go, even if he didn’t particularly want her to. His stomach was grumbling though, and he needed a good stack of pancakes with black coffee.

Dismounting, he turned to her and helped her get the helmet off. Gentle motions with rough fingers coaxed the clip free, lifting it off of her head. “Good?” At her nod, he took her hand and threaded their fingers together.

His hand was large, calloused and his knuckles were scarred. Hers were delicate, soft, and barely had a scratch on them.

She couldn’t help the smile from spreading across her face. It felt like a dream. Bunny had been dreaming of riding on the back of his bike around town, the way everyone stopped to look at them had her stomach doing flips because to them… she was his.

So proud she was to have Harry on her arm. Everyone in town knew of him and knew what he was capable of, they’d never seen him with a girl in broad daylight or ever really so the staring was completely justified.

“Hello my dear,” Sandy, the woman who owned the diner greeted the two of them. “Oh, Y/N? Sweetheart, you look beautiful! You haven’t been here in so long, I was starting to think Sterling took you with him.” She chuckled, taking in the pair of them. And their intertwined hands.

“Booth for two?” She asked giving Harry a knowing smile.

The polite nod was all she got back, but Harry did have a fondness for Sandy. He grew up here, grew up with milkshakes and fries as he tried to sober up and breakfast after long nights of activities he couldn’t discuss.

Harry never put his back to the door and Sandy knew that, taking him to his regular booth. The menus were placed on the table with a promise to be right back with coffee and Harry took the time to grab Bunny’s jacket, hanging it up on the hook outside the booth.

Harry rarely ever took his cut off. It was his most prized possession. The leather vest and the leather jacket he wore in the winter months? That almost never got taken off when he was in public. It was an identifier, a signal that he was protected and also not someone to fuck around and find out with.

The rings decorated his hands, a mix of things he had collected over the years tapped against the table as he fished his phone out and placed it face down on the table.

“Bunny.” He murmured. Her eyes had been focused on the menu, feeling the eyes on them. It was a giddy and nerve-wracking feeling. People were aware of Reaper and his antics, never once seeing him take a woman to breakfast- let alone hold a hand.

“You okay? Why’re you hiding from me?” He tilted his head, hair falling over his face a bit as he observed her. She was hiding a bit from him, which he didn’t like. He liked seeing her face.

“I’m okay, it’s just a bit different— didn’t think people would care this much.” She looked up at him with a cheeky grin, setting the menu down now that she had decided.

Strawberries and cream French toast. It’s what she always got when she came here, but she still liked to look at the menu and see if anything else tickled her fancy.

Her legs moved under the table, ankles wrapping around his in a small gesture of affection. Her foot gently rubbed at the back of his calves, a smile still on her face as she waited for a reaction. All couples played footsy. She wondered if Harry had ever gotten to experience it.

“What are you getting?”

Harry swallowed down his surprise. Until now, he had been the one to initiate any sort of touch. He had even thought perhaps he had done a bit too much until he had seen her reaction in the kitchen, but it was clear now that maybe she had just needed to warm up to it.

“Pancakes.” He murmured. He always got the pancakes with eggs and bacon, which was a safe and filling bet. There wasn’t anything bad here but he wasn’t someone who went for overkill.

“And you’re getting strawberries and cream French toast.” He knew her order just as well. The girl loved her strawberries, had since she was a kid. Strawberry pie, milkshakes, ice cream, popsicles. He used to tease her about turning into one- Harry’s version of teasing anyways.

His bulky boots were something she found attractive too, oddly enough. How solid of a man he was. He was steady and unmovable. Perhaps it was one of the reasons she was so damn drawn to him.

“They’re going to care because I always said I’d never date.” He placed his menu down, eyes still glued on her face. Her phone buzzed on the table and he wordlessly grabbed it, ignoring her ‘hey!’ And opened it up.

“Snapchat?” He raised a brow. “Darling… who the hell still uses this?”

Y/N wasn’t sure who would be snapping her at this hour, but she could only assume it was one of her friends. Most likely Lulu. She didn’t have anyone on there besides her friends, she wasn’t in the mood to receive unsolicited dick pics so she usually said she didn’t have one.

“What?” She asked confused about his judgment, “I’m sorry you’re old and not hip, Harry. Who is it anyway?” Y/N was curious, especially when she saw the smug look on Harry’s face.

“Are u fr with reaper and didn’t tell me? I’m hurt 😔”

Y/N felt her face heat up. Damn, news spreads fast. She didn’t think her friends would find out this quickly, hell, her friends knew about her crush and were probably all screaming and dying to know the details. Fuck, she hoped no one would mention it—

“Can I have it back, please? Girls chat. It’s private.” She knew she had to play it cool, but the puppy eyes she was giving him were lethal. “Please.”

He raised a brow, looking at her giving the look. The one that was always used to get her way. She was good, this girl. Very good. His eyes narrowed as he scrolled the chat, seeing nothing of interest.

He sighed, locking it and handing it over. “Nothing interesting that I saw. Boring girls chat.” It did tickle him a little how fast the news had spread, though. They’d literally just walked in and the rumor mill was going.

If it wasn’t going in his favor, he’d think it pathetic. People were always wondering about him, always trying to see what the scary mysterious man was doing. He kept shit private for a reason. This, however? It was meant to spread.

“You’re gonna have to make them believe it too.” He mumbled, shooting her a look. His hand reached out to hold hers again. “I don’t use the social media shit, but I know you do. If you want to post shit it’s fine, but do what you’d usually do if you had a boyfriend.” He knew she hadn’t had many. Sterling tended to scare boys far away from her.

“You’re going to regret saying that.” Y/N giggled, playing with the rings on his finger as the waitress came up to take their order.

She was young, probably around her age maybe older, she looked oddly familiar but Y/N couldn’t pin point where she knew her from. It was clear she also was surprised by the news, already knowing Harry’s order but asking what else she could get for them.

“Strawberries and cream French toast for the lady, and an early grey tea. Oat or coconut milk, either is fine.” Harry recited the order, he could never forget it. It seemed that was a common theme when it came to Bunny.

It left Y/N feeling bashful, giving the waitress a shy smile as she handed her the menus with a quiet ‘thank you’.

“I’ll wait to post though, gotta let the initial news settle before I overwhelm them with photographic evidence.” The two of them made a beautiful pair, she was sure the photos would do well on Instagram. “But this is kinda cute wait…” She pulled out her phone and took a picture of their intertwined hands to post to her story.

“Is that the Instagram thing?” He looked over to see her phone. “Hm. That’s the one I used to use. But honestly, doesn’t appeal to me anymore. M’glad you like it though.”

Harry was a bit older and he was really quite tired of people wanting to know his business. He scrolled some websites and watched videos sometimes but he found not having a large digital footprint would help him more than anything else.

“The first step, I guess.” He watched her twirl his lion head ring. His hand was very identifiable by the rings and scarring on the knuckles. “Viper filled Sterling in but he’s pretty much no contact right now.” He had gone through some shit their last run.. and it had changed him. He needed to get away from here, especially after his relationship with his girlfriend crumbled. Harry understood. The life changed people. “He’s going to kick my ass.” His other hand ran through his hair, aware of the punches he was definitely going to take.

Bunny has always been off limits. Always. No go zone, no touch zone. But Harry never saw her as a little sister like Sterling tried to implement. It wasn’t like that but… more so someone he really cared about. A girl he liked and wanted to protect.

“I think… I know your phone came back with no bugs or trackers but maybe don’t take any locations. Turn off the services for that.” He suggested. “Just in case. Can you do that?”

“Yeah, one sec…” She immediately went to her settings and manually turned each one off. These were all things she wouldn’t normally consider and she was glad she had him to remind her.

“Also,” She started as she turned the last location setting off, “for the record, I won’t let Sterling kick your ass. I don’t really care what he thinks about it, if anything he should be happy it’s you and not someone else.”

Harry really was the best choice. He knew her the best, he was the most feared member of all the Devil’s Keepers, he was the closest to her in age, and he was attractive so it wouldn’t be suspicious. She was actually comfortable being around him. It’s what Sterling would have wanted out of this.

“What are you going to do today while I’m in class?”

Harry would be going to the clubhouse and discussing things she didn’t need to be aware of. They were running weapons and it was club business, something she never needed to know the intricacies of, so he didn’t mention that.

“Going to work. Prospect named Bulldog is going to be outside your school and waiting for you. He looks kind of like one so you’ll know who he is.” Harry would sit outside all day but he had to work on other things and she would be safe with a watchful eye.

Harry owned a garage where the rich people came to get their cars detailed, painted, vinyl wrapped, whatever. He charged up the ass for oil changes and tire rotations for them and lowered the price for normal people. Was it ethical? Maybe not. But it worked, and people forked the money over because he was good. His employees were family members or friends of the club who knew how to keep their mouths shut- or knew what would happen if they didn’t.

“M’gonna need you to text me updates. Every hour, want you to check-in. If you don’t, I’m coming down there and embarrassing you.” He warned her, his face serious as he squeezed her hand. “Don’t care about your little friends or your teachers. You feel me?”

“Oh please, embarrassing me how?” She was genuinely curious about what he would consider embarrassing for her. Did she want to find out? No for herself, no. However, if she was going to get to know Harry and really get to know him, she wanted to see all the sides of him he didn’t show to others.

“Okay so am I meeting Bulldog after class or are you picking me up?” She preferred the latter, wanting to show him off to everyone and snuggle up to him on the bike again. “I’m going to make something yummy for dinner, do you have any requests?”

Her hand squeezed his again, before flipping his hand over so she could trace his palms. She just needed something to fiddle with to distract her from her nerves. She was so into him, it was obvious to everyone but him. She’d never act like this with anyone. For that she was thankful.

“I’m picking you up. Bulldog is just watching until I get there.” He wouldn’t let a prospect take her home. Especially not if this was their ‘debut’ of sorts. He wanted to be a good ‘boyfriend’, however fake it was. He would beat a guy's ass if they treated her wrong and he would hold himself to the same standard regardless of the validity. She deserved good things.

His hand tingled with her tracing, and he was almost thankful when Sandy rolled around with their food so he could pull away. The touch was overwhelming, even if it did feel good. He needed to put his head on straight.

“Anything. Pasta or steak.” He shrugged, cutting into his pancakes. “I eat a lot.” Harry had muscle. While he wasn’t overly brawny, you could tell that he worked out and was very in shape, he had decently defined abs but a little bit of softness to his sides. He had a soft spot for ice cream, which he kept his secret.

It was quiet as they ate. Not uncomfortably so, but Harry wasn’t one to talk for no reason. She would bring things up and he would listen, nodding his head and giving her attention while also scanning the Restaurant while he did so. The fucker had to know her schedule. This was out of the ordinary for her but he wouldn’t put it past the creep to show up.

No one gave him the vibe here. It felt safe, but he was always on guard. He couldn’t afford to be with precious cargo. He didn’t give a fuck about dying or death for himself, he knew one day someone would end up taking him out.

But her? He would rather be tortured than have her hurt.

“Okay, so what I’m getting from that is steak AND pasta, got it.” Bunny would prepare a delicious meal fit for a king. Maybe not steak and pasta, but definitely steak and potatoes and vegetables with homemade ice cream for dessert.

Having Harry’s companionship these past few days had done wonders for her. She was used to being alone while her mom worked to support the two of them. Sterling had moved out when he turned 21, so the pressure was on for her to leave the nest so her mom and stepdad could have the house to themselves.

“This is so good, oh my god.” She practically moaned, picking up her cup of tea to wash down the delicious cream that coated her mouth. “Want to try?” She asked, already cutting off a piece to feed to him.

He said to treat him like her boyfriend so she did. She wanted to give him everything she felt he was missing out on, even if it was just pretend. She and Harry had a lot more in common than he realized and while he grew up thinking he didn’t need or like romantic gestures, Bunny knew that everyone liked romantic gestures. Especially if they were tailored just for them.

He didn’t want to react to it, but his body had other plans. Hearing her moan, seeing the white at the corner of her mouth… his cock twitched to life. Her soft little bunny eyes looked at him innocently as if she didn’t just give a pornographic moan right next to him.

Harry simply nodded, leaning over and closing his mouth around the fork. Pulling back, he saw her eyes on his mouth as he chewed, tongue peeking out to brush a bit of the cream away from the corner of his lips.

“Thanks, baby.” He smirked a little bit as he leaned back into his seat. “S’good. But a little too sweet.” He knew it would taste better off of her. Whipped cream and salty skin. Christ- he really needed to check himself before he got fully hard at this table. It fucking sucked to ride hard. Especially with the risk of her hand falling down to feel him, even on accident.

She nodded in agreement, understanding that their tastes were different. Harry was much more of a savory person, he even gave off that energy. It probably had something to do with the fact that he was an Aquarius.

“Do you get many days off?” She asked, “what do you normally do on them?” Y/N didn’t want to disrupt his schedule too much. Ultimately she was hoping she could spend some time with him doing things that he enjoyed seeing as he was always doing whatever it is she wanted.

Maybe she was taking this whole couple thing a little bit too seriously? She knew she would never get this chance again though, she might as well show him all she had to offer.

With her previous boyfriends, she wasn’t like this, wasn’t concerned with things that they would want from her. She treated them all the same, friends that were guys who would also give her mediocre sex… sometimes it was really good, but that was usually before she started her period when she was extremely horny. The wind blowing could have turned her on in that state, it wasn’t anything special from them.

That wasn’t the case with Harry.

“Well… m’always on call for the club. They need me, I’m there.” It was a vow you took when you got patched in. Your brothers were family, the club was your life. He took it seriously. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t able to take days off from his actual job.

“I own the garage, so I make my own hours usually. Got the employees and customers now to do it. Would have taken today off but I’ve got a big-budget client wanting to wrap her fuckin’ sports car in the dumbest vinyl- but we get good money. Even if it pains me to do it. I’ve got to be there to see her when he comes to drop off and pick up. She likes to deal with me directly.” Probably because she wanted his cock but that wasn’t something he did with clients, ever. She had fucked herself out of that one as soon as she brought her car in the first time.

She wasn’t his type, and he wasn’t about to go fuck around while he was with Bunny regardless. That was fucked up, even by his standards.

“I'm taking tomorrow off to be outside your school while you’re there. Had a look at your schedule, you’re only there 4 hours tomorrow.” He had snooped. He wasn’t apologizing for it. It wasn’t the full day, so it would be fine.

“I normally don’t take days off. I go in, mess with cars and fix ‘em. I go to the clubhouse and see if there’s shit with the bikes that need fixing. Sometimes, if I take days off, I go on road trips.” It was his code for runs to deliver the illegal goods but she didn’t need to know that now.

“I’ve got to clean my place up. Didn’t expect visitors so I know it’s a bit cluttered. Probably need to shop for some stupid pants. The jeans I like to wear are getting too ripped.” The knees were far gone now.

“I can help!” She said with a mouth full, covering her mouth as she took another sip of her tea. “With the cleaning and the shopping, I’m staying at your place I might as well.”

Acts of service were her love language right next to words of affirmation. In other words, she loved praise and she would do anything to receive it. Cleaning and shopping were things she did often so she didn’t mind at all, especially because Harry was a tidy man. She didn’t notice his place was cluttered at all. It was cozy and lived in.

“How many pairs of jeans do you have?” She asked curiously, knowing he only had a few clothes in his closet. He didn’t need a lot, her stuff took up the other half and that was just what could fit in a duffle.

“Okay, so we can do that tomorrow when I’m back from my pastry class.”

“You can’t go crazy.” He warned her, narrowing his eyes. Bunny had a tendency to overdo. She had some mother like tendencies and he had seen it himself just from hanging out at her house. A natural hostess who wanted to make everyone feel at home, she often overdid to make everyone else comfortable.

“I’ll let you clean and organize the kitchen 'cause you’ll be the one using it, but don’t touch the other shit. I don’t want you overdoing it.” He griped. It may have come out harsh but he didn’t want her to think she had to take care of him.

People rarely took care of him. His mom suffered with a lot of addiction issues and he basically raised himself. She was better now and tried at every turn to make up for it but the damage was done. People taking care of him made him uncomfortable because he never really had it.

“I’ve got... 3 pairs.” Including the ones he was wearing. He had a fuck ton of money but he really didn’t live like he did. Material shit meant nothing to him. He made plenty of investments outside the club and found his numbers growing and growing- it didn’t even feel real to him, especially growing up the way he did.

“I’m no good at shopping for clothes so I’ll let you help me. But you have to get some shit too. All your girlie shit we left at your place. Just get extras. deal?”

“Okay, but I swear it’s not overdoing. You’re doing so much for me already.” She told him with a shrug, clearly, this was something he wasn’t going to budge on. She didn’t like feeling indebted, even if they would never ask for anything in return.

Y/N never judged him for the way he spent his money. If he was happy with 3 pairs of jeans then so be it, but she had some ideas for some additions to his closet that would make him look absolutely delectable.

“Didn’t know you liked to play sugar daddy.” She teased as she finished up her meal, giggling at his expression. Bunny always picked the perfect moments to make flirty comments, she thought someone like Harry would be immune to them but it seems even the toughest of men melted when it came to compliments and mentions of sex.

Y/N would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about how he was in bed. She had a feeling his dominance bled through every part of his life, but she was curious to see just how he liked to dominate women. Rough, of course, but there was more to him than met the eye.

He gave her a look, silently giving her the ‘really?’ He was thinking- but his cock was oddly a fan of the idea of spending money on her. Of spoiling her. It was… really odd. Wanting to take care of someone else like this was slightly jarring.

“Finish your food.” There were still a few bites left and he wanted her fully nourished- as well as the sugary thing could do.

Bunny was happy with his reaction, though. He hadn’t told her off or rejected her teasing outright, so she did as asked and happily wiggled with each bite of her French toast. She hadn’t even noticed Harry slipping Sandy his card in the meantime.

Helping her into her jacket hasn’t been what she expected but it made her warm and fuzzy, especially when his hand slipped back into hers and they walked out together. He didn’t talk, but she was okay with the silence.

—-

Bunny had never been this excited to get out of class.

Sure, the seafood they had prepared was amazing and she had lots of fun with Tom shelling and deveining shrimp, but it didn’t compare to the relaxing hours at Harry’s place. This wasn’t necessarily supposed to be an enjoyable experience all things considered, but she let herself float off to fantasy land to cope.

She immediately spotted Bulldog as she exited the building with Tom, nodding to him as a thank you before making her way toward the lot.

“Is your sexy new boyfriend here?” Tom asked, nudging her with his elbow as they walked beside one another. “Reaper or something? He sounds violent, that’s hot…”

“Shut up,” Y/N smacked his arm with a laugh, shaking her head at her friend. “Yeah, he’s somewhere on a bike. You can’t miss him.”

Harry didn’t miss her, that’s for sure.

His eyes locked on her as soon as she left the building, stomach gnarling when he saw her with another guy.

It hit him then that she had other men who wanted her. Lots of them, probably. They wanted her attention and her ideas and her in general. They thought they could have her- and Harry felt the weird possessive cloud come down over his head.

“Bunny.” He approached, ignoring the other man. He could choke for all Harry cared. “Got out late, hm?” He had worried a bit when she hadn’t come out with the first wave of people, so his worry was authentic. His fingers tipped her chin up to look at him, her eyes wide from the sudden touch. “Missed you.”

He couldn’t stop himself. His lips pressed against hers firmly, thumb holding her chin in a semi-possessive state as his stubble brushed her delicate skin, his grip making her open her mouth just a little- enough for his tongue to brush against hers as his other arm pulled her into his body.

It was a very clear and deliberate public claiming. ‘This is my girl, back the fuck off’ claiming by the tall man in dark leather who’d rode in on the large, loud bike.

He just hadn’t expected it to be this good. To taste her tea still on her lips and her body to fall into him, hand gripping his cut as she moaned in surprise against his lips. The soft ‘pop’ of their lips detaching and his thumb wiping away a tiny bit of wetness on the corner of her mouth. “Let’s go.”

Holy shit.

Her lips stayed parted as she looked up at him, she didn’t have to say anything for him to know what she was thinking. The carnal look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know.

Y/N’s face felt warm as she waved goodbye to Tom with a giddy grin. She hadn’t expected that, but she could certainly get used to it. If she hadn’t been in public she wouldn’t have let him pull away, she swore she’d continue to melt into him until they fused together completely.

“You going to greet me like that every day?” Y/N broke the silence as they reached the bike, licking over her bottom lip while she watched him pull her helmet out from the seat compartment.

“If you walk out with other guys. Yes.” He grumbled though he felt satisfied that he had done it. He claimed her right there and was positive multiple people could see, would know that he just kissed a girl that was his.

He also regretted it.

It was going to be the only thing he thought about when he looked at her now. He was going to think about her sweet mouth and how she had melted right into him, how she had moaned against this mouth in the surprised way, how she had clung to his shirt, and how fucking soft her lips were.

He was fucked.

He was quiet as he strapped the helmet on her head, tapping under her chin when he finished. His body wasn’t sure how to feel. Excitement? Regret? Guilt? He was certainly aroused from tasting her, but he knew now he was going to pay for his sins.

When he saw the other guy it sent him into a jealous cloud. Who the fuck was the kid and why was she laughing at what he said? How well did she know him? The knowledge she had a life outside of him and dated before, had been kissed before, made him irritated. He couldn’t have made a move beforehand but it didn’t matter to his unsettled thoughts.

Before flipping the visor down in the helmet, he looked into her stunned eyes and saw the confirmation that she had liked it just as much. That could be a separate issue. “Don’t walk around with other boys when you’re supposed to be mine. Don’t fuckin’ like it.” He grunted. “Said you’d be good.” There was a pause before she went to open her mouth. “Then act like it. Come on.”

He helped her on the bike, not giving her a chance to speak as he followed, tugging her hands around his waist. “Don’t let go.”

“Harry he—” The sound of him revving the engine cut her off before she could explain.

So he was jealous. He was jealous and it wasn’t part of the act.

Y/N smiled smugly and held on tight as directed, deciding she’d let Harry take out his anger on the open road. She would get a chance to explain once they were back at his place, but she wanted to see what else he would do to prove her suspicions.

If he had even given her a moment to explain, he would have found out that Tom was a happily married twink. Of course, she would be bringing that up once they arrived, but for now, she was going to let him think he had gotten away with this little jealous boyfriend act.

Arriving at Harry’s apartment complex, Bunny stayed quiet, watching as he took off her helmet and fixed her hair. He practically dragged her up into his apartment, not saying a single word the whole way up.

Harry was dirty. He needed to wash his hands and change his clothes because he didn’t feel like it was right to be around her being so filthy.

Bunny was… she was light and soft and clean. He was dark and hard and fucking filthy. Opposites in most ways but god damn, did he want to appeal to her. This was exactly why he had tried so hard to hold her a shoulders length away.

Now he was scrubbing his nails with the nail brush to get the grease from under them. A shower would come later, but he wanted to get back out there and see what the fuck she was doing.

He left the bedroom to see her padding around the kitchen, taking out ingredients for what he assumed would be dinner. She hadn’t had a chance to change yet and was still in her outfit, the pants hugging her ass in a way he wished his hands could- but he kept quiet to observe before he approached.

“Rooms open. Go and change.” He opened the fridge to grab the water pitcher with the built-in filter, filling up a glass.

She thought maybe he would have cooled off by now, but the return of his short statement sentences said otherwise. Even his tone was different. If this is the way he wanted to play then she would certainly give him a run for his money.

He couldn’t hide from her in his own apartment.

With that in mind, Y/N created a plan. She wrapped up marinating the steak and washed her hands in silence. Her eyes flickered over to where he was standing, making sure she’d brush past him on the way to the bathroom.

“Tom’s gay by the way.”

It was simple, but the words lingered in the kitchen as Harry realized he may have shown his own hand.

It was too late for that though, especially after Y/N came back from her shower dressed in nothing but a tank top and tiny shorts. Yeah, it was a little bit evil, but she figured it was payback for the fact that he slept shirtless and in slutty grey sweats.

He’s been stewing on the couch when she came out of the room, and honestly? He nearly choked on his spit.

His reaction was internal, mostly, but he didn’t necessarily hide that he was looking at her. She was a tease. Was that what she was trying to do? Tease him?

The guy was gay, which was fine, but he had gotten jealous and let it overtake him a bit. Okay. But now he seemed to have cracked open a box that should have been closed shut and locked with a key and taped afterward. Something he shouldn’t have even touched.

Now he was going to pay.

—

It continued. Each day was similar for the next 4, a routine of sorts settling into the groove- but Harry was going out of his goddamn mind.

She got one kiss when he picked her up. One toe-curling kiss that he broke apart and never spoke about after. Her school week was going by and every damn day after, she would put on tiny shorts and little tank tops and prance around his apartment, touch him, sit a bit close to him, and giggle.

He was going insane.

He had been so good. Behaving, keeping his hands to himself, sleeping and keeping to his side of the bed- but each day, Bunny was fraying his final string closer and closer to snapping.

He hasn’t gotten laid in weeks, he had a woman he wanted but shouldn’t have under his protection, and now she was taunting him. There was no way she didn’t know what she was doing.

The final straw was when she came out in his tee shirt. No bra, nipples visible, and tiny shorts covered by the shirt hanging down, humming and shaking her hips as she placed something into the oven.

He had been out on the balcony when she had changed and didn’t see it until now- but seeing one of his Devil’s Keepers shirts on her and her nipples poking through the thin fabric, his jaw clenched so tight he thought a tooth may crack.

“What the fuck are you doing, Bunny?” He snapped, form tense as he slammed his phone on the counter.

Bingo.

“I’m roasting potatoes what does it look like?” She said as if she had no idea what he was talking about. Y/N was surprised it had taken him this long. It was actually pretty amazing that his self-control was this high considering his temper operated on a short fuse.

Y/N was used to men cracking quickly when she flaunted her body around. It was only natural, she knew she could use it as a weapon and she did. Harry on the other hand preferred to suffer in silence as she amped up the stakes with each and every day.

The kisses should have been enough to break him, especially when she tugged at his bottom lip with her teeth as she pulled away from their kiss this afternoon. She was sure that would do it. He left her no choice but to pull out the final boss.

He was possessive, of course, he liked her in his shirt.

“Not talking about the potatoes. You know better.” He clenched his teeth, crossing his arms as he approached her. His final attempt to keep his hands to himself, but he could feel himself failing.

“All fucking week… you’ve been doing this shit. Prancing around and showing off your body. Watching me. What’s your goal?” He stepped closer, watching her turn around and look up at him with those pretty eyes he always admired.

Only now they were hooded and moony, looking up with a little smirk. She was playing him. Obviously aware of what she was doing.

“Don’t play games with me.” His nostrils flared as she raised her brows at him. She was daring him to do something. The tension was heavy, his restraint nonexistent.

“Do you know how fucking hard I’ve been trying to be respectful? To be good?” He snarled, finally taking hold of her hip and anchoring her against the counter. “You’re going through a rough time, not trying to touch you, make this complicated, and what do you do?” He tugged on the shirt. “Go and do shit you know will get a reaction.”

Bunny had pushed him over the edge.

“Fine. What do you want?” He reached up, gently collaring her throat with his hand. Despite his harsh, almost mean tone, his grip was gentle. Trying so hard not to go too far without knowing what she wanted.

“Don’t just stand there. You’ve got a brain, sweetheart. Answer me.”

Most would be scared at this point, but Bunny was over the moon. His hand around her neck felt warm, secure, he was barely even pressing. He wouldn’t hurt her, but she wanted him to do something.

“I want you to stop pretending you don’t want me.” She couldn’t believe the words came out of her mouth, but she was proud she had managed to say it how it was. If she teased him for 5 days straight she knew she would have to take accountability. Would have to assert herself and let him know she could now read him just as well as he read her. His jealousy was her little glimmer of hope and she wanted him to give in.

“Just gonna kiss me once a day and let yourself, hmm? Said you wanted to make it believable, but you’re holding back.”

“I’ve been doing the right thing.” He grit out, his eyes dark and angry, but the arousal was there. She could see it, feel it. He kissed her every day and he let it linger just a bit too long, he couldn’t fake that.

“You’re driving me up a wall. What do you want me to do, Bunny?” He asked, exhaling harshly. “You want me to touch you? Want me to kiss on you? Have been leaving you alone because you’re a guest here, you’re supposed to feel safe and be protected from a stalker. Not getting felt up by the person you’re supposed to be protected by.”

It was something he’d been struggling with. He didn’t want to add in any sort of complication when it was already difficult, she was in a weird place- but she kept pushing him.

“Keep fucking pushing me, flaunting that perfect little ass and your tits? I’ve got incredible self-control, but you’re testing me and being a cockstease every damn day.” He released her throat, turning from her to the sink to try and catch himself.

Fuck. He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t be touching her at all. Shouldn’t comment on her ass, or her tits.

She could understand why he was holding back, but she had given him the go-ahead days ago. He had talked all this talk about touching her in public and kissing her and yet, the most they’d done was a kiss in her college parking lot. It was driving her crazy.

Y/N took a step forward and let her hands smooth over the plane of his back, nails scratching through the fabric of his shirt as they made their way down to the hem.

“You’re so tense…” She mumbled, hands creeping under his shirt to repeat her previous movements, except this time against his skin. “It’s okay, you know? To like it… to want more…” She was trying to make it easy, but he was still trying to respect her.

“Can’t kiss me like that in the parking lot and leave me hanging… that’s so mean.” She pouted, her hands moving to wrap around his front as she rested her head against his chest.

“Bunny…” his voice was hoarse. Did she really mean that? “You’re….” He felt lips press against him, right on his shirt as her hands ran over his stomach. Fuck. She wanted this? She really did… said he was mean? Leaving her hanging….

Fine.

He turned around his body at its breaking point. He needed to touch her, god damn it.

“Mean?” He took her hands and placed them behind her back, keeping them there with one while the other went to her face. His finger dragged down her cheek, giving her a look over. She squirmed a bit but a look stilled her.

“You haven’t even seen mean from me. I’ve been so, so nice to you. What would be mean, is kissing you the way I wanted to before you left to go to school, let you walk around with an aching little cunt and wet panties all day. I can be very, very mean.” A feral grin rose on his face.

“You don’t want me to be mean, you want sweet. You want soft. Hm? A sensitive little bunny. Throwing tantrums because she wants… what? She wants me to touch her? That last person who should?” He shook his head, his finger burning a trail down to her lips.

“This fucking mouth is going to get you into so much trouble, baby. Keep taunting me.” He dared her. “Do it.”

With one swift motion, she sucked his finger into her mouth, keeping eye contact with him as she worked over his skin with her velvety tongue. Her movements were slow, noticing the same rage bubble up in him again before pulling away with a pop.

She kept her eyes trained on his, initially pressing soft kisses to the base of his finger before her tongue joined in the mix. Yes, she was fully sucking off his finger just to tease him. The curious side of her wanted to see just what he would do about it.

“Mmm… would feel so much nicer on your cock, don’t you think?” Bunny’s voice had changed, it had more of a raspy bite to it. Her eyes weren’t hiding much either, starting to droop from arousal.

“But you’re being good… so maybe you should eat me instead.”

“Fucks sake.” He whispered, smearing his finger back over her lips, wiping the spit back on her. “Would you look at that…” he pressed his finger back into her mouth, feeling her immediately suck back on it as she looked up at him.

“You’re a slut.” The words were soft but dirty, her mouth sucking him a bit harder as she nodded at him, taking his finger deeper into her mouth until she reached the knuckle. Trying to show him exactly what he could be doing if he just gave in.

“Act like such a good girl most of the time… but you’re gagging for it. Can’t fucking believe you.” He really couldn’t. Pulling his finger out of her mouth, he shook his head as she whimpered at the loss of it, the wet digit joining the rest to clasp under her jaw.

“You want my cock in your mouth?” He said it quietly, gently urging her mouth open. “You want to suck it and feel it on your tongue? I’m the last person you should be fucking with, Bunny.” He warned. “But you don’t care. Do you?”

Her head shook the best it could. Her mouth was watering at the thought of him, cunt sticky with how wet just his hold got her. “Say it then. Tell me that you want my cock in your mouth and I’ll consider it.”

Fuck it. He’s lost.

“Please sir,” Bunny let out a whimper, “I want your cock in my mouth…” Y/N couldn’t believe she had actually pulled this off, so close to getting exactly what she’d been craving.

Intimacy.

Sex was the perfect outlet for the two of them. Neither one of them was brave enough to share how they truly felt unless provoked, but sex would allow them to cater to each other's needs without the pressure of saying the right things.

Sex was primal, nothing else mattered then besides the connection they shared.

Y/N sank to her knees with his hand still cupped beneath her jaw. Nimble fingers began to play with his zipper, but she wouldn’t continue without a go-ahead.

“There. See? I knew you were a good girl with listening skills. You’re waiting for me to tell you yes, yeah?”

His Bunny looked up at him, nodding in agreement. She was listening very well now, not wanting to chance the opportunity being taken away. She would listen to Harry and do what he said so long as she could suck him.

“Go ahead. You can unzip, but not the briefs. You can kiss my cock over them. Feel it, but can’t touch it bare yet. I think you’re capable of doing that. Do you think you can, pet?” He stroked over her hair, feeling the zipper being pulled and the jeans being tugged down. “Remember what I said.”

Y/N tried not to be too rough, but she was eager. She felt a rush of excitement flow through her as she noticed just how hard he was, she felt proud. Bunny knew he was interested, but for him to be fully solid before she even touched him made her smile.

Not wasting another second, she leaned forward and pressed a few gentle kisses up his clothed cock looking up to see his reaction. Y/N was big on eye contact, the feeling of intimacy was addicting.

She let her tongue sneak out, placing kitten licks over his balls to see if he liked it, and hummed as she moved up along his shaft. If he wanted her to tease she would, it was much more fun this way.

“Does that feel good, sir?” Bunny’s voice was sickeningly sweet, lips sucking over his tip over the waistband. She knew his cock was big even before seeing it hard, but despite its size, she wasn’t intimidated at all. If anything it excited her.

“It does, sweetheart.” He murmured.

His mind was reeling. He never thought this would actually happen. Precious little Bunny on her knees for him, mouthing at his cock eagerly like his little pet. He was hard as nails, her willingness to please soothing a part of him he hadn’t been aware he had.

“Get the fabric wet. You’re so willing and eager to run this smart mouth all the time… I’ve got to wonder what else it can do. How I can use it.” He tugged her closer to him, rubbing himself over her face.

“Look so good down there. You’ve been dying to get there, haven’t you?” He had fully lost his composure. Giving in felt really damn good.

She nodded, a bit shocked at how he was. Bunny had only ever experienced Harry as a protective figure of someone who was stoic. He joked here and there but she never could have dreamed of experiencing him like this. A little unhinged from his usual composed and cool self.

Y/N let some spit collect in her mouth, wanting to get the fabric as wet as possible so he could feel every movement of her tongue. She wanted to behave. She wanted the praise. Wanted to show him all that he didn’t know he needed.

She flattened her tongue against him, slowly licking up the sides filthily. She was making a mess, both on his cock and between her legs. Spit was just getting all over her face, she hoped he liked it messy like she did.

Though she hadn’t had many sexual partners, she’d always had more taboo sexual fantasies. Of course, her boyfriends had always been into it, but never had she been with someone who met her match. Not just met, but completely exceeded her.

She didn’t have to sleep with Harry to know he was a freak. It was noticeable from the way he commanded her and cared for her. Y/N hoped he would show her more of this side of him, she wanted to see just how twisted he could be.

“Fucks sake…” he whispered, watching her do exactly what he had wanted.

Harry had particular tastes. He was dark and rough and a little mean… but with her, he knew there would be a sweet undertone to it. He had stayed away for a reason, thinking that a girl like her wouldn’t be into his brand of sex.

Bunny presented as someone sweet and soft. Perhaps a hint of a brat- but just seeing this, spit dripping down her chin as she licked up his covered cock, he had a feeling that she was a lot filthier than he had given her credit for.

“Messy little thing.” He pulled her back by her hair, a smirk lining his lips. “Fucking incredible. Do you want it in your mouth?” She has soaked the fabric and proven to him that perhaps she could take it. “I want to see what it can do. Already showed me you can be a messy girl…” he cooed. “Want to see it in on your tongue. Go ahead.”

“Thank you, sir.”

So polite. God, she was going to kill him.

Her fingers felt so delicate against his skin, teasing him while pulling his briefs down where his jeans sat below his bum. His cock twitched at the look on her face, her face lit up as if she’d been starving for it.

And she had been.

Bunny wasted no time diving right in, spitting on the tip and letting it drip down while so swirled her tongue around the crown on his cock. Flattening her tongue again, she let the weight of his cock lay flat against it as requested.

“So pretty like this…” Harry used his free hand to tap it against the wet muscle, groaning at the filthy noise it made. “Fucking love it don’t you?” She had the nerve to giggle. “Go on, suck it like a good slut.”

She didn’t hesitate.

Sinking her head down, the tip was engulfed in her mouth, his head tipping down to watch. It did something to him to watch her take it in, to feel her tongue stroke against the bottom of him.

Harry’s received plenty of head in his life, but none gave him the satisfaction this already did. It filled a piece of him that had been screaming to be seen, something he had been denying himself this whole time.

There wasn’t any part of her that seemed hesitant or embarrassed as she took more of him in, her hand holding him at the base and her eyes looking up at him. His long hair fell like a curtain as his head angled down, looking at her as she sucked him, the dark lust in his eyes fueling her to take even more.

“There we go… taking it in.” He muttered, her lips stretched around him. “You’ve no idea the shit I want to do to you. Probably would scare you away.” His hand stroked her wet cheek, smearing some of her spit over it as she bobbed her head. “Just keep sucking me with that hot little mouth.”

Bunny kept up her pace, letting out pleased hums with every moan he gave her. She hadn’t expected him to be so vocal and loud but was pleasantly surprised. It only egged her on, taking her deeper and deeper into her mouth with each bob of her head.

Harry’s jaw went slack the moment he felt himself hit the back of her throat, the most guttural groan following suit. It took everything in him not to thrust, instead his hand roughly grabbed a hold of her hair.

“You— tap my leg if it’s too much,” Harry said through his teeth, taking deep breaths to try and control himself. Holding her head in place he began moving his hips, pushing shallow thrusts into her mouth.

Bunny’s eyes teared up at the welcome intrusion, blinking them away as quickly as she could. She relaxed her jaw, taking deep breaths through her nose to keep her gag reflex at bay.

It felt so good, he felt tingles in his legs. Thrusting into her mouth, Harry let out a deep groan, feeling it reach her throat with one of the thrusts. She gagged a bit, making him ease up, but she didn’t tap his leg.

This wasn’t what he had imagined their first encounter would be- hell, he hadn’t even allowed himself to fantasize about it too much because he knew that it would open up a world that couldn’t be unexplored once stepped into.

But here he was, feeling her spit drip down his cock to his balls as he fucked her mouth. The slick, sloppy sound of his length gliding into her mouth over and over was filthy, spurring him on.

His hand fisted her hair, guiding her head further down him as he breathed heavily. “Who would have guessed you’d be a cockslut?” He grit out. “Letting me fuck that messy mouth. Fuck…” he pushed in deeper, feeling her gag again and pulling out a bit. “Love when you gag on it. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Been fuckin’ gagging for it.”

She was a mess. Tears slid down her cheeks from the gagging, spit down her chin, she looked filthy and messy and Harry loved every bit of it.

Y/N dug her nails into his thighs, enjoying the feeling of him fucking her throat a bit too much. She’d done this maybe once? But for Harry, she realized she’d do just about anything. Pleasing him was a turn on in itself, giving her a sense of power and control that she lacked in her day to day.

She let him continue his thrusting, wanting to make him cum. She wanted to know what it tasted like, what it felt like— as filthy as it was. Y/N had wanted him for so long that even the crudest of acts would make her cunt throb.

Her thighs squeezed together, trying to relieve the ache that was growing between them. He was far too gone to notice— at least that’s what she hoped. She just had to be good.

“This is what a good girl does.” He pulled out of her mouth, watching her pout up at him. “She sits on her knees and follows directions. Doesn’t talk back. It’s what I’d like. As sexy as the bratty act is…” he pulled his cock away, pulling the briefs back up. “You’re not going to get rewarded for teasing.”

The stupefied look on her face killed him. He wanted to laugh, also cry considering his cock was aching for a release and that had been the best head he had ever received- but she needed to learn.

“If you can continue to be a good girl, not tease me the rest of the week, Continue your check-ins, be as safe as you can, and stop the games?” He raised a brow. “I’ll give it to you. I’ll let you have my cum, I’ll make you cum. You’ll be rewarded.” His thumb brushed some of the spit from her mouth, reaching above her head to grab a paper towel and wiping up her face.

Bunny couldn’t believe it. She really couldn’t. What the fuck was this? One minute she was sucking him and he was moaning and the next- he was tucked away from her reach.

“And don’t even think about sneaking away to touch yourself. If you do, I’m not giving you shit.” He warned. It was unfair and mean and she wanted to cry- but for some reason, it made her even more aroused. His control over the situation and her… it was erotic.

Harry helped her back onto her feet, pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead. That was new. He’d never done that before. Her eyes were still glossy, lips swollen… she looked so beautiful staring up at him. He couldn’t help himself.

Brushing a few pieces of hair behind her ear, his fingers found their place below her jaw once again.

“Did so good for me…” He murmured, thumb rubbing at her dampened cheek. He only let a few more seconds pass before his lips were on hers, except this time was different.

Slow and tender, Harry’d never kissed anyone with so much intention before. There was so much he wanted to say but couldn’t, so he felt the kiss would tell her everything she needed to know.

The timer for the potatoes went off.

The shrill beep cut into their kiss, making her curse herself for putting it in so soon. She felt dazed as he pulled apart, the moment melting as he smoothed her hair back and took a step away.

What the actual fuck had just happened? Kissing her like that after denying her any more oral sex and making her feel special and cherished. Even just for that moment.

She blinked a few times as he handed her the oven mitt, the timer being turned off as he reached over her. “Time to eat properly, Bunny.”

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xnightlynyxx · 7 months ago

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I want to talk about a certain parallel between Robin and Griffin. Warning: Major Spoilers Ahead

Following Ramy’s death we see the definite shift in Robin’s morals and the way he views life overall. It’s after this point that he begins to really struggle to see a future for himself. And once he begins craving violent revenge, we see his actions and ideologies begin to mimic Griffin’s closely.

And I’m wondering how Griffin felt about his own future when he was alive. Because it seems like he threw himself completely to the mercy of the cause, and we know that he’s constantly getting hurt, not sleeping, not eating, and I feel like it seems as though he doesn’t see himself as a person that is alive, but rather as a tool for the cause.

So I want to assume that after he fails the silver working exam, and especially after he kills Evie, he stops believing in a future for himself the same way Robin can’t seem to fathom a future without Ramy and Griffin. Because of this, Griffin isn’t afraid of death, and the way he’s living is a subconscious form of self-harm.

Now, I do think Griffin would agree with Ramy, in that dying would be the easy way out and would do no good for the cause, but Griffin also doesn’t seem to actively avoid death. His face-off with Sterling is brutally short, and Griffin was more than willing to sacrifice himself for Robin and Victoire. I’m definitely extrapolating here, as they were cornered, Robin and Victoire were worn from their time in prison, and the confrontation had heavy emotional history behind it, but it was so sudden that I want to believe there was another way out.

If this is true, I wonder how Griffin reacted to finding Robin? If he was living solely for the cause and entirely not for himself, how did he react to finding out he had a brother to look out for? It could’ve played a role in Griffin’s desire to keep Robin at arm’s length, in order to deny himself another person to live for.

TL;DR Griffin probably wanted to die for the cause because he couldn’t imagine a future for himself the same way Robin did.

#babel #babel an arcane history #babel or the necessity of violence #babel rf kuang #griffin lovell #booklr #robin swift #babel spoilers #older sibling angst hurts on a different level #live laugh love griffin

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merakiui · 1 year ago

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we have discussed clingy, codependent boyfriend azul, but now allow me to present to you: scummy, sleazy floyd.

(nsfw + female reader)

scummy, sleazy floyd who you meet at some club deep in the shadowed corner of the city. he smells of alcohol and cigarette smoke, and he’s leering lasciviously as he leans against the bar, blocking your view of another guy who’d been attempting to strike up conversation. he doesn’t bother to hide the fact that he’s interested, and you only let him stay because he keeps you on your toes with his witty and blunt retorts. you tell him you’re not looking for a quick fuck and his lips spread in an easy grin and he answers with: “and i’m just here to hold hands and make friends.”

he buys you a drink; you gaze at the flashy silver and gold adorning his fingers when he passes the cocktail to you. some of those rings look expensive: bejeweled with the brightest gemstones and glittering with sterling silver. his sleeves are rolled up; he’s got tattoo sleeves of what looks to be various marine creatures, all predatory with their curling tentacles and sharpened maws. his ears are pierced, too, and so is his tongue. not that you’re looking at his lips, but when he smiles his entire face lights up. one moment he looks pure and sweet with his broad grins; the next he looks as if he’s just undressed you with his gaze alone. and under the dim, sensual neon lighting, something about the latter look has you rubbing your thighs together in anticipation.

you talk to him as you drink. horrifyingly enough, he’s good company. you almost wish you’d come with a friend so you could have an excuse to leave. it’s not that you’re uncomfortable. it’s just that you weren’t expecting to find someone here who’d genuinely listen to you—and not just so he can wheedle you into sex! he’s a rare specimen, or maybe you’re just too buzzed to see through the deceptively appealing haze that’s fallen over him.

“so why are you still here?”

“cuz you’re fun to talk to.”

��but don’t you want to fuck?”

“do you?” he smirks at your flustered sputtering. “don’t ask for somethin’ you don’t want.”

“huh…”

“you’re cute.” it catches you off guard, but then so does the nickname he throws out next. “like a little shrimp. think i’ll start callin’ ya shrimpy from now on.”

“please don’t.”

“too late.”

you quirk an amused smile and reach out to shove him away. he doesn’t budge. not that you put any force into it. you don’t want him to leave. not yet.

“you never gave me your name.”

“ya never asked.”

“okay, smooth talker, what’s your name?”

he smiles, gleeful mismatched eyes flicking to your fingers as they curl around the handle of your empty glass. he gazes at you next. “floyd.”

“nice to meet you, floyd. i’m (name).”

“s’pretty, but i still think shrimpy sounds better.”

you roll your eyes and angle your body so that you’re facing him entirely. you know you’ve been sitting here for quite some time now because suddenly he’s the only one you want to look at. maybe it’s the alcohol, but you feel so stupidly incoherent when you stand on unsteady legs. it takes you a moment to balance on the wedge platforms, and floyd offers a muscled arm for you to lean on. you grab it and squeeze his bicep out of drunken curiosity. he’s strong…

he’s eyeing your mini skirt and fishnet stockings with sharp eyes. you know it’s bad news; you know you shouldn’t get carried away like this, especially since you just came out of a very vanilla, very normal, very non-sexual romance. but that relationship didn’t work out; this one…is different. it’s not a relationship. it’s a hook-up. it’s temporary. it’s not permanent.

your eyes tell him all he needs to know. he giggles as he guides you through a tight hall to the bathroom. the music is a muffled hum now, bass reverberating through your rib cage as if it’s a heartbeat. impatiently, he pushes you into a stall, not bothering to lock the door. you scramble for purchase when he shoves you up against the wall. it’s been graffitied with all sorts of nonsense: magicam usernames, some circled and others crossed out, phone numbers, dirty words, incoherent scribbles of poorly drawn penises… it’s filthy and you wouldn’t fuck even your worst enemy in a place as horrid as this, but tonight it feels right.

you fumble to grab his shoulders while his hands hike your mini skirt further up your hips. it feels fast and slow all at once. is this happening? are you even alive right now? did you pass out from the alcohol? is this a dream? his voice brings you back to earth next.

“changed your mind?” he teases, pressing his thumbs into your sides to gauge just how plush your waist is. and from what he’s feeling he seems to approve, for he squeezes you playfully. the coolness of his rings settles your overheated nerves.

“s-shut up…”

“ya ever had sex before?”

it takes a long minute for you to process that, but once you do you hurry to respond. “of course i have!”

“liar.”

“’m not,” you mumble, shaking your head.

“yeah, yeah. lemme guess. you want it, but you’re too scared to take it.”

“…not true.”

he barks out a laugh. “ya serious? really? that’s it?”

you push his face away. he’s still laughing.

“that’s not true!”

“ya ever use any toys?” at your limp shrug, he throws his head back and whistles. “man. why’re you even here? what’s an inexperienced thing like you doin’ in a club?”

you stare hard at the floor, suddenly ashamed. “i… i wanted to lose it…tonight…”

or something like that.

“don’t ya have someone special who can take it? not that i ain’t special, but ya know… s’different. a partner or somethin’ like that.”

“there’s no one.”

floyd hums as if he’s considering something before promptly lowering to his knees. he doesn’t seem to mind the sticky floor, but then he’s more focused on the space between your legs. he winks when he catches your gaze, lips peeling to reveal rows of sharp, pearly teeth.

“then i’d better treat ya extra special tonight.”

you don’t object. he wasn’t expecting you to.

maybe if you were more sober and level-headed you might find the sensation unusual. but his tongue (and the cold metal of his accompanying piercing) feels so unfathomably good against your clit. he braces himself against your legs, strong hands wrapped firmly around your thighs as if they’re garters. his nose is buried in your crotch while he angles his head to lave his tongue over your slick pussy, leaving you a shuddering, gasping mess above. you grab at his hair, tugging teal strands to keep yourself afloat amidst inebriation and waves of tantalizing pleasure, each crashing into you as if you’re a poor, fragile sailboat on a vast, tumultuous sea.

he’s the best (and only) fuck you’ve ever had, so when his tongue flashes into your pussy you throw your head back against the stall and wail, your stomach untying its many knots as you come undone. you’re a mess, shuddering and panting, reduced to nothing before something so… so… great? perfect?

something so floyd.

and while you grind against his mouth he laps eagerly at your wetness, unbothered by the shower he just endured. he’s laughing when he pulls away, voice raspy and thick with good-natured mischief.

“shrimpy’s so easy…”

you scowl at him, but it falls apart the moment he licks his lips.

“you’re just too…”

“yeah?” he nods, encouraging you to continue. “too what? you can say it.”

you almost don’t want to give him that satisfaction, but then he’s pinching your clit and you’re melting against the stall. suddenly being vindictive is the least of your priorities.

“t-too good!”

“see? shrimpy knows the right words.” he rises to his feet in the cramped space, shucking his trousers as he goes. they pool at his ankles, momentarily forgotten. you stare at the outline of his half-hard cock against his boxers. “good girl.”

that... wow. okay. that’s…something new. you don’t want it to hit, but it does. and you hate that it does. you try not to let it show, but he’s so eerily perceptive despite all of the carnal lust and physical attraction. how he’s even able to focus all of his attention on you while he lazily works himself in one hand is beyond you, but then you surmise he’s likely had plenty of experience and so by now he knows the basic steps by heart. it hurts a little—that you’re not his first, that you aren’t anyone special to him, that you’re just another body he’s pinned to a dingy stall wall—but you don’t dare let your sentimental feelings spoil the mood.

you watch him roll a condom on one-handed and—god, even his dick is pierced—your anticipation couldn’t be any more palpable. he rocks himself against you, his leaking cock pressed to your stomach. he pokes at an area just above his tip.

“you think it’ll go all the way up to here?” he hums while you try (and fail) to say something coherent. “only one way to find out, yeah?”

“mhm…”

floyd laughs. “don’t go gettin’ dazed on me now, shrimpy. i haven’t even put it in yet!”

he turns you so you’re facing the wall and lifts one of your legs. the position stings for a moment, but then his dick is prodding at your pussy and if you had any doubts now they’re all washed away when he snaps his hips forwards, filling you all at once, so much that the breath is punched out of you and you crumple against the wall. you scramble to grab onto something, but he keeps you plastered to the wall, one hand curled around your waist and the other holding your leg up so that he’s fucking you at an angle. each thrust pushes you up against the stall, and you howl like a mutt in heat, no longer worried about slipping.

it’s so gross. you’re tacky with sweat and your panties are soaked through, and every time he connects his body to yours you can hear the lewd squelching of skin on skin. it’s vile and loveless, but god it’s good. everything about him is temporary; he’s not your forever. you know this, but for tonight he’s your temporary and that feels like a dreamy eternity.

he fucks you like you’re the only one left in this world, and your lashes flutter against your cheekbones, vision whiting out. you shudder through your orgasm, sobbing pleasured relief, and it takes just a few more well-aimed thrusts until he’s spilling hot, groaning lowly in your ear.

he stays pressed to you for a few seconds, rolling his hips slowly as if riding out a glorious high, and you blink rapidly as you return to yourself. he waves his hand in front of you and, stupidly, you reach out and clasp it tight. his fingers entwine with yours. temporary, you remind yourself.

it’s sweaty and sticky and so unbearably hot when he separates himself, slipping out with ease. you almost lower yourself to the ground, exhausted and in need of a bath, so he supports you with one arm while he tugs the now-filled condom off.

floyd peers at you with glazed eyes and leans in to kiss you on the cheek. it’s the cherry on top—a job well done.

“you got a friend nearby?”

“what?”

“someone to pick ya up.” he tries to clean you, balling toilet paper and using it to wipe you down. it doesn’t really work. you still feel filthy even after he’s adjusted your panties and pulled your mini skirt down. it’s the effort that counts, though. “shrimpy’s not really in the right mind.”

“i’m in the best mind, thank you and fuck you!”

“kinda did that last one already.”

he lets you tear yourself away from him. as he observes you clinging to the wall for support, he fits himself back into his boxers and yanks his trousers up.

“gimme your phone.”

“no way. you might do something weird.”

floyd rolls his eyes. “lemme call ya a ride. you need it.”

“ooh, chivalry isn’t dead…”

you pass it to him after fumbling to unlock it. floyd spends an awful long time typing, but before you know it he’s calling someone. you listen to him as he talks, his voice a playful drawl. alcohol aside, he definitely rearranged your guts and your brain. it’s a wonder you’re still conscious.

“hi, jadeee. do me a favor, yeah? will you come pick us up? we gotta drop shrimpy off at her place.” there’s silence; you strain to hear the person on the other side. “nah. s’just a little lady i met tonight. she’s cute. maybe your type if you don’t mind sloppy seconds.” there’s more silence; your skin prickles when you realize he’s talking about you to whoever this jade person is. “kay, so you’ll pick us up?”

the exchange lasts another minute before he’s hanging up and sliding your phone into your pocket. you’re relieved when he tells you he’s found you a ride home because it allows you to mumble your address before you lose yourself to exhaustion entirely. you don’t remember the ride home or how you even got into your apartment or what your roommate said when a mysterious man carried your unconscious body inside like you were a sack of flour he’d slung over his shoulder. but when you wake up the next day, hungover, sticky, sweaty, and still tired, you aren’t spared the details from your roommate. it’s a story you find hard to believe.

you, going out to a club and hooking up? as if. you can hardly fit a dildo inside without tightening up out of fright.

but before you step into the shower, you check your phone for any proof. sure enough, after scrolling through your contacts, there’s a new one. his name is floyd. you stare at the number and it all comes rushing back.

horrified, you text him: why is your number in my phone?

he responds minutes later: thought u might want it.

well i don’t want it.

then delete it :p i’m not stopping u, he writes back.

you stare at his message long enough for those three dots to return.

he sends another message: gonna take a guess and say u wanna keep me in ur phone :)

you hate that emoticon. there’s nothing to smile about.

i’m going to delete you after my shower!

we’ll see

you shut your phone off. you hate that you allowed yourself to get so swept up last night, but most of all you hate that he’s right. you do want him to stay. at least now you have a means of staying in touch. not that you’ll utilize it! but…

it never hurts to talk every now and then, right?

#meraki mumbles #n/sfw #me: i’ll just write a little bit of this thought #also me: *writes an entire scene for a potential fic*#orz sometimes you just want to be fucked in a dingy bathroom stall by a mafia eel #this is an essential need!!!

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