#to anyone reading this rate who looks the hottest and who looks the most out of character
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Fic: I'll Tell You in a Song
Read below or on AO3
Pairing: Gale x named f!Tav (College of Lore Bard / Zariel Tiefling Rating: M for eventual smut Word Count: ~4800 Possible CW for imagery dealing with su!cide/self harm
Shayla Moonsong was once a very typical bard, in every sense of the word. A student of the College of Lore, her mediocre skill with a sword was even worse than her athleticism. Fortunately the pretty pink tiefling had other talents that kept her out of trouble, usually by way of a bonny sonnet… or an occasional bedchamber. But then she became the host for an illithid tadpole and everything changed. She changed. The easy freedom of a light tryst with a man like Halsin should have been ideal, but she found her heart longing for someone else. Someone who was miles away in Waterdeep, forgetting about the bard who didn't understand him, or understand what it was that she needed until it was gone. What is a bard to do, then? When she falls in love… but it's too late?
Chapter One: The Wizard, The Real One
"Is there a loan shark in the audience or something?" Jory asked.
"Hmm?" Nelsyn replied, but she didn't look up from her lines. He supposed that was fair. She was busy letting Sara fix the adhesive on the curly teal wig that sat between her horns, and Jory knew as well as anyone on cast that nothing good came from troubling the crew. He let his heavy bear pelt slip from his shoulders as he sat down in the empty chair next to her.
"She's been there all night," he told his friend as he nodded toward the entryway to stage right. "Boss lady. We've been touring this show for months. We could all do it in our sleep, she knows that. Never seen her hover like this."
And there was no reason for it. "The Fall of the Absolute" was a roaring success. The production was Shayla Moonsong's crowning achievement, a media darling, and the current obsession of a whole continent. She'd catalogued volumes of stellar, five-star reviews thus far, and was selling out box offices everywhere she went. The show was the hottest new thing since "Volo's Guide to Sex in the Elemental Planes."
But it wasn't her biggest accomplishment. It wasn't what she was truly known for.
She was the Hero of Baldur's Gate.
She faced the illithid Netherbrain herself, and won.
And the tale they were telling in front of all those people was her story.
Heavens knew the winsome bard had faced far greater perils than watching a chapter of her life play out on a stage.
And yet there she stood, on this most unremarkable of nights, leaning just inside the door frame where she could observe without obstructing. Where she could scan the audience like a scrying eye, searching for... something. Normally she'd be flitting about like a cloud of gnats directing the cast and crew, answering questions, giving orders, helping the caterer, filling water jugs, finding toilet paper, running errands, meeting VIPs. Trying not to go crazy. But not tonight. Tonight she stood very still, chewing her thumbnail and unconsciously flicking the tip of her tail over and over, hard to the left.
And Jory remembered what Nelsyn had said about what it meant when tieflings flicked their tail to the left.
She was clearly nervous about something.
"Well, we're about to do the big emotional number," Nelsyn finally told him, closing the cover of her script while Sara gave her wig a good yank to test the glue. "It's the one all the teenage girls are sobbing over their sketch pads for right now."
She stopped to take a sip of water when Sara bent to pick up her cosmetics case. The girl made a gesture to Jory to give up his seat, and he tripped over his own feet unfolding himself to stand up. Once again he was reminded why he was cast as the big druid, Halsin. Shayla had told him once that while he wasn't quite as tall as the real thing... he was close. He wondered how easily the boss lady's former lover would have fit into that chair.
"This is our first time in Waterdeep," Nelsyn continued, trying her best not to move her lips while Sara applied a fresh coat of pink stain. "She probably just wants to see how it gets received. She doesn't really get to just sit out there and watch, you know?"
"Yeah."
"Could be it," Sara told them both, bunching her eyebrows and concentrating on keeping her hand steady. "Part of it, anyway. That is her favorite character out there, singing his heart out about the bomb in his chest."
"Her favorite character? The wizard?"
"Someone else got a bomb?"
"Please. Everyone knows I'm her favorite character."
"Listen," she replied as she wiped the applicator clean with a kerchief, "you're a good looking kid, and no one hates watching you take your clothes off out there." Nelsyn snorted, but they both ignored her. "A healthy percentage of ticket sales is probably yours, no one's arguing that. But that's not enough for you to game the win."
"Game the w- what?" Jory laughed, his oiled obliques glistening as he pulled the bear pelt back over his shoulders. "Look, I'm not trying to make it a competition or anything, okay? You brought it up. But I literally play an archdruid who carves ducks, sings to squirrels, and adopts orphans. Plus? He looks like this." He swept his hands grandly over his abdomen, flexing muscles most people had only seen in paintings or medical textbooks. "And did I mention he's also her boyfriend?"
"Her ex-boyfriend," Sara corrected him, pointing at Nelsyn as she spoke. "Have you even listened to the song she's getting ready to sing? You know. The one about love? And sacrifice?" She shifted her weight as an intern sidled past her to tidy the table, refill their drinks, and bag up the trash. "And don't tell me you haven't looked at Erik with both of your eyeballs. We've all seen him. The man has eyelashes as long as your forearm. And the biggest, saddest, wettest brown eyes on the face of this planet. He's like a baby cow, okay? I'm just saying." She stood to let the intern past her again, and bent to drag her cosmetics case out of the way. "This is the man she cast to play the lead in the big romantic climax of the whole show. When the main character realizes she's in love and it's too late. She's managed to capture," she pinched her fingers in front of her face, "the very essence of what it means to have sad children mooning over this show for years to come, okay? The baby cow is a cash cow. And he is clearly her favorite character."
"I think the vampire is her favorite character," the intern said, unprompted, as she reached to help Nelsyn out of her seat. "He's everyone's favorite character."
"You're all wrong," Nelsyn told them as she sloughed her way out of her robe with great theatrical flair. The intern caught it before it hit the floor, just as she'd done so many times before. Nelsyn stood with her hands on her hips and a gallant curve to her tail, casting her eyes toward the rafters and beaming a heavily pink-stained smile, resplendent in her artificially distressed leather armor blotted with thick fake blood.
"I'm her favorite character," she said, glowing with certainty. "And it should be obvious. I'm her! Now, stand back and watch while I go make a bunch of little girls cry!" And with that, she grinned devilishly and pranced toward the stage.
But once she was gone, the intern leaned forward and beckoned. Jory found himself instinctually drawn to listen.
"Well, you wanna know what I heard?" she whispered, and her eyes landed on Shayla for only just a moment. Jory nodded out of reflex. "I heard a rumor that someone in the orchestra pit overheard the boss lady telling someone in the box office that there was going to be a special guest tonight."
"What. Like, family?" Jory asked. "I thought she was an orphan."
"Could be anyone," Sara answered him from where she stood, combing through a wig hanging on the wall. "Philanthropist, politician. Who knows.
"Or," the intern hissed, leaning in even closer, "it could be one of them."
"One of who?"
"You know. Them. Thems what was with her, when all this went down."
"Like... like one of the actual...?"
"Don't you two have anything better to do than -"
"Wait. We're in Waterdeep," Jory breathed. He snatched up Nelsyn's script and started thumbing through it, fanning the pages and blowing a strand of hair across his nose. "Isn't... isn't the wizard...?"
Sara dropped her comb to her side and opened her mouth, but stopped and blinked at him instead. A thoughtful look crept across her face. She nodded her head in defeat.
"The wizard's from Waterdeep."
Then, as one, they all turned to look at Shayla where she stood at stage right, still as a statue.
And the music began to swell. The strings stirred the air with sounds as soft and sweet as sunset. The woodwinds sang a shrill crescendo as Erik began to make his famous climb.
And Nelsyn began to sing her famous song.
Before she disappeared beyond the narrow view from stage right, Jory watched her as she raised her arm to reach for him.
The wizard.
And her voice rang out so high and so clear, so heavy with every loss that Shayla Moonsong had ever suffered, with every plea that ever twisted her heart in bitter knots. With every word that ever fell from the mighty pen of their beloved playwright.
Who stood now with her hand at her throat. It bobbed once when she swallowed. Her lips parted and she drew a breath, and a hush fell over the crowd. She settled in to listen with the rest of them.
And her tail flicked once more to the left.
I know I've been unkind to you And I've pushed you way too far And I know in ignorance I forced you To reveal the man you are And I know I've left you with nothing to lose And even less to gain And though I know you owe me nothing Please don't give in to pain
Erik's silhouette was emblazoned across the long, velvet curtain hanging behind the hideously decorated staircase he was climbing. His movements were eery and real, despite their paltry attempts to pantomime a grisly memory that none of them had ever lived. Each step was measured and dreamlike and perfect, like a person caught in a trance or a dead man called home to his rest by a spectral light.
Or in this case, a massive papier mache facsimile of a netherbrain hung from a scaffold over the stage.
Please, Please don't do this I'm begging you not to go Please, Please don't do this There's something you need to know What can I do to make you wait Convince a goddess to change your fate Please tell me that it's not too late There's something I didn't say…
"It can't be him, though. Can it?" Jory asked. "Didn't he, like," he pointed a finger toward the stage, "explode?"
"Oh, no. It's just a story, mate," came a voice from behind them. It was Velanthyr, the elf who played Astarion. They rounded the table and perched themself on the corner, placing their white wig beside them as they took a bite from an apple. "She's embellished tons of stuff. For emotional impact. They all do it."
I should have loved you since I met you I should have loved you all along
"That bard she played? In the first act?"
"Yeah?"
"She ain't really dead either."
"Seriously?"
I should have told you that I love you Instead of hiding behind a song
"My cousin met her. Said he saw her play someplace they had dinner."
"No shit?"
"It's true. She teaches music in Baldur's Gate."
Is there nothing left that I can do But fall to my knees and pray
"So what's with her, anyway?" Velanthyr asked, pointing their apple at Shayla while they wiped the juice from their lips with their other hand.
The tip of her tail flicked again, and slowly she wrapped her arms around her middle.
To any god or any devil Who'd keep you from walking away
"She's been acting weird all night," they said.
"S'what we were just talking about."
Please, Please don't do this! Turn around! This isn't right!
"We think the wizard might be out there," the intern told them. "The real one."
"Oh no," the elf laughed.
Please, Please don't do this! Please, I'm begging you to fight!
"Hope he has a sense of humor. It's about to get weird!"
"Weird?!" Sara growled at them, flinging her comb about.
Forget your fickle god's desire I'd cross the oceans, I'd walk through fire I'd conquer all the Hells entire For you And yes, I know you're tired
"The man is getting ready to watch himself die! And I'm sure I don't need to remind you his death is self-inflicted! If there's a chance that any of this is real? That the trauma this man survived is on display? You all need to show a little respect." She shook her head and turned back to her wig. "Shut up and let her listen."
Sara's words may have stung him, but Jory knew she was right. So he obeyed her, and he listened. And for the first time he truly heard the fragile warble of desperate heartache that Nelsyn had worked so hard to craft through her voice.
Come back to me and take your rest Indulge one overdue caress I'll steal the sorrow from your chest And confess, I will confess
But he didn't just uncover a new appreciation for his friend and her level of skill. There was more to it than that. There was a depth to this scene that he'd been missing before now.
There was a meaning. One that wasn't meant for the whole world.
It was only meant for one man.
He could sense it in the vibrant tension bound between Shayla Moonsong's shoulder blades.
And then Nelsyn grew quiet. Everything got quiet. The music made a subtle shift to something low and dulcet, but tense, like a string pulled too tight without snapping. Jory found his feet had led him to stand at Shayla's shoulder. He could hear her breathing through her teeth and he felt compelled to reach out and take her hand.
She took hold of it like a lifeline.
You're everything to me and more You're all that I've been fighting for You're more than just an end to war…
Nelsyn paused after that last note. It was important to the narrative, it was the whole point behind the wizard's story. But her longing would go deliciously unrequited, and would inspire a veritable deluge of creativity from fandom communities everywhere.
Shayla squeezed Jory's hand, squeezed her eyelids firmly shut. She held her breath and Jory could see Erik had reached the top of the rise. There he stood, a straight, unyielding figure gazing off into the liminal distance, resolute.
And he would never turn around.
It wouldn't be long. Any moment.
Nelsyn sang her penultimate line.
And I would give my life for yours…
She held the word so long it nearly sank into Jory's skin. It sent a wave of goosebumps to crest over every inch of his body. The orchestra wove their way through their final, sweeping refrain, and the conductor brought them to a close on a plaintive harmony between a flute and an oboe.
And then the light collapsed.
It shrank to a small, pale circle that drew its stark and shining focus on a razor-slim shadow cast against the curtain.
In the shape of a dagger.
Erik lifted it high and turned its point toward his heart.
"Gods preserve me," Shayla mumbled to herself. It was the only sound Jory could hear aside from the sniffs and sniffles of the audience. Collectively they teetered at the edges of their seats, enthralled by a beautiful, mournful man who was counting the final seconds of his life with undaunted stoicism and courage.
Nelsyn could've whispered her final line if she wanted to, but instead it burst from her as a scream.
"Don't do this!!!"
Jory felt it thrum like a shockwave within his own chest, and beside him Shayla flinched. She squeezed his hand even harder.
"Just tell me when it's over," she said to him. And then suddenly there was a flurry of activity.
He took a step back and yanked her away from the door when a small flock of technicians flew in to crowd the space they left behind.
Up high, far in the corner, Jory saw the dagger move against the curtain. And all of the good people of Waterdeep gasped when they watched the blade meet its mark.
"Fire in the hole," a technician murmured beside him, and the spotlight on the curtain went black.
Then a pair of spells were cast that bathed the audience in a blinding aurora. It blazed with ribbons of vivid blues and purples and greens, speckled with myriad glittering white stars.
And an arrow of roaring thunder was launched far overhead. It detonated with such a resounding boom that it shook everything, even the floor boards beneath Jory's feet. It rattled seats and drinking vessels, it toppled music stands, and it made Erik's staircase sway alarmingly as it was wheeled backstage, with him still riding precariously at its top.
Shayla Moonsong's face fell into her hands.
"Go on," Erik sang as he danced his way down the stairs. "Tell me how devastating I was. Don't hold back. Tell me everything."
"You were spectacular, my love!" Velanthyr assured him as they ran to greet him, cradling his face in their hands and kissing him sweetly. "You always are."
"Were they weeping?" he asked his lover, nuzzling their face with his own. "The lights are so bright, I can never see."
"They were drowning in their tears, darling. Drowning."
"Is everything alright?" Sara asked as she approached on her tiptoes, reaching for Shayla's arm. Velanthyr's wig drooped at her side, forgotten. "What can I do?"
"I can't even look," Shayla whimpered through the palms that smothered her face.
"Oh honey," Sara cooed as she pulled the woman closer. And in a blessed act of mercy, she asked the question that no one wanted to ask, but someone needed to. Long before now, before this critical point had been breached.
"He's out there, isn't he?"
"I think I've made a huge mistake." Shayla slid her fingertips down to press against her lips, unable to form any other words. She could only shake her head, her eyes as wide as dinner plates.
"Do you want us to look? See if we can see him?"
"I don't think I wanna know."
"Where is he seated?"
"E6."
"Oh." Sara briefly grimaced at Jory, but didn't stop rubbing circles across Shayla's back. "Front and center. Of course."
"Yep." The way her lips popped at the end of the word only served to emphasize how mortified she was. "Wouldn't want him to miss anything."
"Well, of course not. He's your guest," Sara replied, jerking her chin in a way that suggested Jory had been volunteered for reconnaissance.
"Oh gods!" Shayla raked her claws past her horns to twist them into her hair. "I even told him he could invite his mother!"
"Well that's a perfectly reasonable thing to do, one would think."
Jory understood his assignment. He sauntered away but paused at the door frame. The show wasn't over yet. When the technicians finished collecting their gear, they scrambled off to safely stow their rockets and retrieve the set pieces for the final scenes. They were dragging the staircase away from the main thoroughfare when Corinne, the woman who played the narrator, whipped past them.
"Coming through," she chimed, racing out to center stage, taking her place before the curtains could rise once more. Her final soliloquy would lead them into the epilogue, and would give Jory the opportunity he needed to cast his eyes past the orchestra pit and across the section of seats that lie beyond.
Front and center.
He would only have a minute or two. Sara would need to replace Velanthyr's wig. Erik needed a drink and Nelsyn's makeup needed a touch up. Very soon they would be on stage, the lights burning holes through their retinas, leaving them blinded and oblivious to all but each other and the saga they would spin to its end. He reached up to buckle the clasp on the bear pelt that draped across his shoulders.
For now, it was the narrator's turn. But he was ready. And then the curtains rose.
He smashed his face against the door frame like a cat burglar. A shaft of light swung down upon the stage illuminating Corinne at its center, and Jory peered out into the darkness it left in its wake. He squinted until he found the end of the section behind the orchestra pit, and he started counting backwards from there.
But seat E6 was empty.
Certain he'd made a mistake, he counted back again to double check, to be extra sure.
But he was right the first time.
"It's empty," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth.
"What?" Shayla cried as she spun to face him.
"Yeah," he told her. "I counted twice to make sure I had the right seat, but no one's in it."
"Oh gods." She began to pace, wringing her hands. "What about the one next to it?"
"Which side?"
"Just tell me if you see an older woman."
"Umm, okay." At first he wasn't certain. There was a child on the right side, but on the left was a person who'd stood up, and was bent with their back toward him, like they were reaching for something. "I think... maybe. Yeah. I think so. It looks like she's getting up. She's picking up a bag or something. Is that a cat?"
"Tara?"
"Who brings a cat to a -"
"She's not a cat. She's a tressym."
"What the hell is a tress- holy shit, it's got wings! It just flew over - oh! Oh, I think I see him!"
"Where!"
The tressym sailed through the air to float beside a tall, slender man who was moving quickly up the aisle toward the exit. He wasn't running, out of proper respect for social decorum, but he had the energy of a man who wished he was. His shoulders were hitched up near his ears and he was stifling his mouth with the back of one hand.
And a shiver ran down Jory's spine.
This was the guy. The wizard. The real one.
Gale Dekarios, of Waterdeep.
In the flesh. Right there.
From what little Jory could see, the play had done him justice. He was a very handsome man, lithe and lean, long-legged with a powerful stride, and every bit as comely as Erik had depicted him to be.
Yet it was hard to imagine, through simple sight alone, that this was a man who had once been the Chosen of a god. Or that this was a man who had once vanquished the avatar of Death itself. A man who had put an end to the Cult of the Absolute.
A man who had once made his own decision about whether or not to plunge a dagger into his heart.
But it was easy to see why Shayla would want to stop him. This man clearly meant something to her.
He didn't know what providence deemed it necessary for him to ask. It certainly wasn't any of his business. But the question tumbled out of his mouth, unbidden. Perhaps the gods themselves just wanted to hear someone finally say it out loud.
"Does he know how you feel about him?"
Shayla slumped and let her hands fall limp to her sides. She pulled her lip into her mouth, and her eyes swam with visions of regret. "No," she whispered to him. "It was never the right time."
Oh, how irony could be so cruel.
"You should go after him, then," he told her. "Go quick. If you hurry, you can catch him before he gets to the front door."
"Shit!" she snarled and for a moment, Jory was afraid she'd scurry across the stage in the middle of Corinne's long and emotional speech. There was a wild streak in him that almost hoped she would. But instead, she bolted through the loading bay doors and flung herself outside, presumably to tear down the alley between the theater and the wine cellar to run around the building toward the front.
Nelsyn wandered over to them, sipping cold water from her mug and watching over her shoulder as the loading bay doors swung back and forth on their hinges.
"Jory," she stated flatly. "What did you do."
"What?!" he cried. Sara could only double over and laugh at him. "I didn't do anything!"
"Somebody did something," she said, eyeing the doors skeptically. "And it looks a lot like it was you."
"I'm serious! She asked if we could see him, and I told her yes. That's all."
"See who?"
"The wizard!"
"What wizard? You mean, like... Erik?"
"No!" He stuck out both hands and shook them. "The actual wizard! The real one, from Waterdeep! Yes, he's still alive! No, he didn't explode!"
"Well, everybody knows that..."
"She wanted to know where he was, so I told her, and then she ran out the door."
"Wait. So he was actually here tonight?"
"Jory," Sara accused him, still smiling pitifully at him as she crossed her arms over her chest. "That's not all you said to her."
"But I didn't -"
"You asked her a pretty personal question."
"Where was he sitting?" Nelsyn leered at him over the rim over her mug as she took another drink.
"E6."
"Wow. Front and center."
"Yeah. She didn't want him to miss anything."
"So what did you ask her?"
Jory could only roll his eyes and sigh. None of them had time for this. He dropped his head and pinched his brow between his thumb and his forefinger but when he looked up, he found all eyes were on him. Even Erik and Velanthyr had paused their conversation long enough to turn around and stare. The technicians in the back tried to appear as if they weren't listening, but everyone knew they were. Suddenly, he could feel the heat that was trapped beneath the heavy mantle of his bear pelt.
"I asked her if he knew how she felt about him."
"What do you mean, how she felt..." And through the window of her eyes he could see her mentally calculating every single word she'd just sung. Right in front of the very man it was all intended for. Seated front and center, missing nothing. Her eyes flickered like golden flames.
"Holy shit," she breathed. "Like... feelings? Real ones? What did she say?"
He didn't get to answer. Just then, raucous applause erupted from behind them. The thunderous retort of clapping hands and cheers drowned all other sound, and signaled to them all that their time was up. Corinne came skipping backstage as the curtains fell behind her.
"And that's a wrap for me! Slam and a dunk! Go get 'em while they're - what's going on?"
"The wizard was here tonight," Nelsyn answered her without breaking her eye contact with Jory. "The real one. Shayla is in love with him. What did she sayyy?"
"No," he told her, holding very still while Sara dabbed a powder puff over his face. "She said no. He doesn't know."
"Are you serious?" Corinne gasped, pressing a hand to her heart.
"Well he does now," Sara chuckled, wriggling her eyebrows as she dropped the powder back into her cosmetics case. "I hope she caught him before he got away. He deserves an explanation."
And all around them, activity buzzed. Scenic backdrops rolled by, the intern fussed with Velanthyr's wig on her tiptoes, Sara dug frantically around searching for her lip stain, and the other actors began lining up to take their places. But in spite of the jubilant bustle of life happening all around them, Nelsyn could only stand with her mug in her hands, awestruck by the revelation they'd just been given.
"Sweet tapdancing Asmodeus," she laughed, shaking her head with her eyes transfixed on some far away place. "You mean to tell me that this whole time," she jostled the water in her mug when she bellowed, "THIS WHOLE TIME?! This whole play has been just a great big love letter to some... man?! For months?! And he only just heard it? Tonight? For the first time?"
"I think that about sums it up, yep," Sara told her, taking the mug from her hands.
"That's genius!" She shuffled to her place in line, utterly befuddled, her eyes glassy and glazed. "They're star-crossed, it's perfect! I wish this would've happened months ago! Just you wait, you'll see. When all the little fan fic authors out there find out about this? They are gonna go berserk! People everywhere will pay money for a vial of our sweat! The contents of our chamber pots - we'll be famous!
"Gods have mercy on us all. There might even be a sequel. We'll be touring this show til the day we die!"
Chapter Two coming soon!
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#bg3 gale#gale bg3#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#gale romance#galemance#tav x gale#oc x gale#gale x tav#gale x oc#bg3 fic#bg3 gale fic#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 gale fanfiction
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dating (hypothetically)
One helpful act on a stranger’s part leads to a headline article the next day, and in 24 hours, your whole life takes a turn when the stranger is revealed to be the heartthrob rocker, Cho Seungyoun.
➳ Characters: solo rock singer!Seungyoun x female reader/you
➳ Genre: comedy, fluff, showbiz au
➳ Words: 7.3k
➳ Warning: mentions of paparazzi, crazy fans and therapy
➳ A/N: Dedicated to @lily-blue
➳ WOODZ taglist: @dat-town
➳ Check out: my WOODZ masterlist
Straight out of a kdrama: WOODZ is pulling his alleged girlfriend out of harm in new pictures
One of today’s hottest items, Cho Seungyoun (also known by his stage name WOODZ) was seen in a rather intimate position with his alleged girlfriend on 20th May at around 9pm in Sogong-dong. In the pictures, we can clearly see the heartthrob rocker and a mysterious young lady talking in front of a 7-Eleven store, the girl reaching something out to him, then the multitalented singer-songwriter pulling her towards him - out of harm as a motorbike is seen passing by. The close scene is making fans swoon worldwide as it looks like a scene straight out of a kdrama.
However, some fans expressed their disappointment that their favourite singer is seen around a young lady as he has not announced that he was taken. On top of that, just a month before the incident, WOODZ was quick to reassure fans at his latest fansign that he was single, and went on to explain that his songs were mostly about searching for one’s self-identity, telling his haters off and raging about today’s society because he did not have a lot of experience in love.
Meanwhile, WOODZ debuted as a solo rock singer in 2021, and is one of the emerging artists of today’s music scene in South Korea, shaking up the hearts of young girls with his aesthetic and high-energy MVs, head bobbing songs and even his not so secret tattoos (which you can see in this previous article).
Check out the pictures of WOODZ and his alleged girlfriend below!
What do you think about the news? Are you happy for WOODZ and his alleged girlfriend?
Most of the time, you would not read such articles. You didn’t care about celebrities’ rumours, you watched their movies, shows and listened to their music, but you couldn’t care less about whom they dated and whom they didn’t. You knew that it was usually fake either way, or if it was actually true, then it was disgusting that paparazzis could put pictures up on the Internet, and the celebrities in question would be the ones receiving all the hate, not the ones who took the pictures without the others’ consent.
However, now, you were the one involved, you were the one seen in the pictures, and given the location, given the unmistakably hanging 7 on the sign behind you, anyone who frequented this particular area knew that it was this specific 7-Eleven, not somewhere else. Your boss had been meaning to fix the hanging 7 that was pretty much a safety hazard now, but to your luck, it was caught on camera just like your work outfit and your dyed blue-black hair even if your face was blurred out. Anyone who could put two and two together would know that you were working here, not just being here on a casual date with this so-called heartthrob at 9pm.
“This is just unbelievable, who do they think they are?” You exclaimed angrily as you tossed the phone showing the article back to your co-worker, Yohan. He was the one who had brought up if you had seen the article published early in the morning after you had asked him why there were more people here than usual, and why they were giving you odd glances. So while Minhee was taking over the counter, you and Yohan were in the staff room, away from the curious eyes. Who knew when paparazzi would show up here at this rate?
“I thought the same. You and a rock singer dating? Please,” the younger boy huffed as if he had any right to talk about your non-existent love life like that when he himself wasn’t any better. When a pretty girl showed up at the counter, he basically malfunctioned. He could only be bratty to girls who treated him like a younger brother - yourself included.
“We are not dating. I was just giving his wallet back because he had left it on the table inside the store, then he thanked me for it, and then, the motorbike guy came, and yes, he did pull me towards him, but it was anything but romantic. I felt so awkward, I wanted the ground to swallow me up.”
“But why? You are the one who always complains that chivalry is dead!” Yohan pointed out with a raise of his eyebrows, and you had to give it to him that he was right.
“I don’t know, it was just… weird. He’s practically a stranger!” You reasoned as you leaned onto the shelf with the uniforms, your head throbbing ever since you had laid your eyes on the article. This could not be happening… This had to be a dream… You were the most ordinary person on Earth, why did you have to get caught up in a dating rumour with a rock singer?
“So you didn’t even exchange numbers that would mean you could contact him now?” Yohan broke the momentary silence, his face pondering. You, on the other hand, gave him a deadly glare as if he had asked if you had killed a person.
“No, of course not. I’ve told you there’s nothing between us.”
“It’s not too good then. How are you going to discuss what to do about the whole situation?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know if celebrities discuss these things when they are rumoured to be with common people,” you reasoned, letting out a huff of air at the end of your answer. You ran a hand through your hair, not caring about the mess you would leave behind because it was a mess either way. Not just your hair but the whole situation.
As if it could get any worse, the door of the staff room flung open, and your manager walked in with his hands on his hips.
“Would anyone mind telling me why people are asking ME if the girlfriend of a certain singer is working here? And by anyone, I mean you,” he said as he pointed at you. Oh, come on, could this get any worse?
“Look, there’s nothing going on between me and that certain singer, I swear. I just went after him last night because he left his wallet behind. That’s all.”
You tried with your most confident tone and your most convincing puppy eyes, but you should have known that didn’t work on your manager. He wasn’t a bad manager, if anything, he was a reasonable boss. However, what he hated the most was drama, and if anyone caused trouble, he would go absolutely feral. Good thing that he hadn’t yet done so.
“This is still not good. People are flooding the store, and they don’t even buy anything. How did they even know it’s our store?”
“It’s because of the hanging 7 above the door,” Yohan chirped in, and even though he wanted to be helpful, it didn’t work because your boss just became even angrier.
“Fine, then I’ll fix the sign now, and you should take the day off while we figure out how to keep the peace of our store.”
“But-” You tried to protest, but your boss didn’t let you, and told you firmly to take the day off. He even mentioned that you should try to dye back your hair in case that would help with people not recognising you around here, and whilst it was reasonable on his part, you felt like a child being reprimanded for something you hadn’t even committed.
May it be your fury or the fact that you had the whole day to yourself afterwards, but you had a plan: if you didn’t know how to contact that so-called singer, you should find out where his agency was, and maybe, they would help you settle the case if you were cooperative.
Or so you hoped.
When you let Yohan know about your plan before leaving the store, he insisted on accompanying you. He came up with sillier and sillier answers as to why (what if crazy fans would flock you? What if someone would throw eggs at you? What if they wanted to throw you out of the agency when they got to know why you were there?), so you told him you would wait until the end of his shift, and then you can go together. In the meantime, you looked up this so-called WOODZ’s agency - it was his own agency according to the articles which made everything more and less intimidating at the same time -, and spiralled down into the hellhole of the internet, seeing too many versions of the story of last night, but none of them were true. Some even went as far as to say that you had been kissing after this singer had pulled you closer to him, and one commenter even said that she saw you leaving the store with the celebrity. Absolute nonsense, absolute bonkers. If you hated gossip before, now you absolutely detested it.
Getting inside the agency was no big deal as it seemed that there was an exhibition part of the building about the artist’s life that fans could visit, but getting through the receptionist to talk to Cho Seungyoun himself was more difficult.
“We can’t just let anyone inside that says that they are the girl in the articles.”
“Do you think I would come here for fun if I wasn’t that girl?” You counter-attacked the receptionist dude who couldn’t let you in for safety reasons which you could understand, but still, his explanations were getting on your nerves.
“Crazy fans do exist,” Yohan blurted out absent-mindedly beside you, totally not helping the situation. You gave him a deadly side-eye before turning back to the receptionist.
“Do they even dye their hair to the colour of my hair?” You threw the question at the dude behind the desk, then threw your hands up in the air out of frustration. “Then, what can I do to meet him? Can’t you just tell him that I’m here, and he can see for himself whether it’s me or not, then problem solved,” you suggested as your last piece of hope, and that seemed to spark something in him.
He gave you one long stare before picking up the phone and calling someone (hopefully the so-called heartthrob), then randomly took a photo of you, and when you asked what it was for, he explained that it was for identification to send to Mr Cho as he called the artist. Yohan mumbled something along the lines of ‘how cool’, and before you knew it, you were given a visitor’s pass, and told to go to the fifth floor.
“And what about me?” Yohan puckered his lips at the receptionist who seemed to be on the edge already.
“And who would you be?”
“Her colleague. Her emotional support colleague who wants to make sure that she’s treated right,” he answered all too seriously, and if you didn’t know him, you would say that he was overreacting, but you knew that he could be very adamant when it was about people who were close to him.
You two had been on good terms ever since he had started working at the convenience store and given that you were older and had worked there already, you had been the one to show him the ropes, and you had developed this sibling kind of relationship quickly. He and Minhee could talk about all the boyish topics they wanted while you gave him life advice when he needed it and got him out of trouble when he messed up an invoice or clumsily broke something.
“Fine. But no pictures or videos, either of you,” the dude warned you both before giving out a visitor pass to the younger boy as well who giddily followed you through the gates, and eventually to the fifth floor.
As soon as you stepped out, there was a 30-something guy waiting for you two who introduced himself as Han Seungwoo, WOODZ’s manager. Then, he led you to a meeting room after a few empty corners, and when you stepped inside, the rock singer was already there, looking up from a bunch of documents when you stepped inside.
Last night, the singer had been wearing a casual grey hoodie, similarly plain sweatpants and no make-up. He had looked like your typical boy-next-door, although he was far from a young boy now, and you had no handsome neighbours like him. Even though you would have wanted to deny, you couldn’t deny that he was attractive, not in a pushy way, not in an overwhelming way, but there was a certain degree of boyishness mixed in with his muscular features, and he just looked nice, even as a casual visitor last night.
Now though in a chic white shirt pulled up until his elbows, sliced back hair, slight dark make-up, he did look extra fine. Damn it, it would have been easier to shout his head off (to find a solution to the problem at hand, of course) if he hadn’t looked like that.
He stood up, bowed at you two before signalling to the chairs on the other side of the table.
“Good afternoon! Please, take a seat,” he greeted you two politely, and you exchanged a glance with Yohan beside you. Was he always extra nice, or was it because he didn’t want you to get more frustrated because he believed that you weren’t in the best mood? Either way, he was like a real gentleman, and even his voice was gentle (was a rock singer allowed to have such a gentle voice?) as he introduced himself officially while all of you were taking a seat at the table.
The artist’s manager sat beside Seungyoun himself (he mentioned that he preferred his real name, not his stage name) while you and Yohan were on the other side, introducing yourself quite clumsily, to be honest. However, Seungyoun didn’t give you an odd glance when Yohan introduced himself as your little brother-like colleague who was definitely not your boyfriend before he wanted to know.
“Well, thank you for the information,” Seungyoun chuckled hearing the younger boy’s words, and his eyes turned into little crescents as he was laughing. That was really cute or something, but you weren’t here for that. You were here to get out of this mess.
“So uhm… I don’t know how people do this usually, but can’t you release an article saying that there’s nothing between us, and explain what happened exactly? It’s giving me a hard time at work, people are flooding the store and asking questions. My manager is also quite agitated,” you explained in one-go, hoping that all this newfound information will make him empathise with you enough to agree to your plan.
There was a few seconds of silence when Seungyoun and his manager exchanged a glance, and you felt your heartbeat picking up its pace. What if they thought you were crazy? What if they didn’t want to stir up even bigger of a mess? Such thoughts crossed your mind, but the casual way they gave in eased your worries.
“There’s no guarantee that the public would believe you two, but we can try with an official release on the agency’s side,” the manager articulated solemnly, and you nodded immediately, knowing all too well that the public could think whatever they wanted despite the truth being far from the situation.
So you got started on putting together a statement, and since you were already there, Seungyoun wanted you to have a say in this. Not because he didn’t remember what had happened the night before (you couldn’t have wiped the memory from your mind even if you had wanted to), but because he wanted your consent as to what they would put out. Yohan nudged you in the side hearing that, and you mouthed a why, but he just gave you a smug, boyish grin in return. What was he up to, jeez?
The statement took longer than you would have thought so, and Yohan got so bored in the meantime that he started scrolling on his phone. Thank god he did though because another mess was on its way, it seemed.
“Oh… Ooohh… This is not good,” he vocalised while you were doing the finishing touches on the text, and all eyes were on him now. He pushed his phone to the middle of the table, an anonymous post with the title ‘WOODZ’s alleged girlfriend is seen at the artist’s agency' open on it. You immediately snatched the phone and scrolled down to read what they had to say.
“I saw WOODZ’s alleged girlfriend entering the boy’s agency earlier today, about an hour ago. She was seen with another guy who seemed like her brother or something… Either way, here are the photos I’ve taken… You can clearly see that it’s her, and now we can be even more sure that he’s dating her,” you quoted from the post, your mouth hanging agape at the end as you looked at the photos taken of you and Yohan entering the building. Even though you both had masks on, your dyed hair was still the same, and it seemed that it was enough for the eagle-eyed fan to spot you and make it into an announcement.
You felt like the ground opened up beneath you. Just how… Why… How did this even happen? How could showbiz be like this? When the rumours and drama were far away from you in magazines and on online boards, it did seem bad, but not this bad when you were directly the target of these rumours. It was one thing that you had gotten swirled up in one rumour, but to be caught up in another one? Sure, you could have been more careful when you had entered the building, but should you be paranoid from now on?
“I think at this point it would be easier if you two just… dated,” Yohan blurted out casually, and you felt your eyes widen as you gave him a glare.
“He has a point,” Seungyoun’s manager, Seungwoo, voiced out his opinion as well, and given the singer’s solemn face and lack of response, you had a feeling that he felt the same way.
“That does not solve the problem of me not being able to work because of what’s happening at the store.”
“You can work here. We have some vacancies,” the rock singer suggested seriously, his eyes boring into yours. You could tell that he was being genuine, and since he was the CEO of his own company, he could make it work, but still…
“Wouldn’t that make everything worse?”
“Well, that depends on how you see it. If you work here, we can give you a piece of mind as no one will bother you here. You can also come in from the back or from the garage which are for staff only, not through the main entrance which is for the general public. We can also appoint you a security guard if you would like to. It’s my company, so we could also make adjustments as you see fit. You wouldn’t need to feel like you inconvenience anyone because this is what we do here, that’s our job,” he announced confidently as if he had practised it already. Maybe it wasn’t a surprise that he could lead his own company, he seemed to take everything into consideration while speaking eloquently about a matter.
“We can’t do that elsewhere, but I also understand that you have your own job, your own goals, your friends and colleagues there, so it might not be your first choice,” he added a bit belatedly when you still didn’t speak up. He kept the eye-contact with you, but that just made everything worse because you wanted to believe him. You felt like you could believe him when he looked at you like that, but it was still so sudden, so new and so… scary.
“I… I think I need a bit more time to think about this,” you concluded when you found your voice, and the artist and his manager both nodded.
Seungyoun asked his manager to give you a pass if you needed to come by in the future, you also exchanged contacts, and you also decided to drop posting the official announcement for now. The singer told you to contact him anytime you felt like you needed it because of the situation, and before you would have left, he even apologised for the trouble.
“It’s not your fault. You can’t change the fact that you are a celebrity,” you responded out of empathy, and you saw hurt flash across his orbs, but you didn’t want to ask about it. You were sure that he had his fair share of hardships while being in the spotlight even without articles being written about him.
Maybe he was going through one right now as well.
Working at Seungyoun’s agency seemed like the most reasonable choice given the circumstances, but it took you a whole bunch of supposedly helpful things - such as writing a pros and cons list - and totally unhelpful things - such as tossing and turning in bed at night for two days in a row to make that decision. In the meantime, you went to dye your hair to black and cut it jaw-length short - shorter than it had ever been - so as to at least confuse the paparazzi or fans if they passed you by or came by the store. You still got odd glances, but at least you could have some peace of mind before leaving the store - and your lovely coworkers - behind. Your manager let you quit immediately given the circumstances, and Seungyoun let you join a few days later when you felt ready and had enough of being scooped up at home. You were more nervous about going outside when you were alone at home than when you were actually outside.
It didn’t mean that it wasn’t scary, but they were really nice at the company, and apart from Seungwoo, the artist’s manager, and Wooseok, the receptionist (you got to know his name later on), no one knew who you actually were, which was a relief. You had your own pass, your own duties as an assistant in the production office, and since you were a newbie (and that’s how you had been introduced to everyone on the first day), no one looked at you weird or deemed you incapable. They showed you the ropes, and soon enough, you were sucked into the world of album production, concept making, marketing plans and merchandise distribution. In the meantime, the rumours died down a bit though it didn’t mean that you were 100% rid of your fears and slight paranoia whenever you stepped outside.
Seungyoun, on the other hand, was kind and polite like the first time you met him - to be precise, the second time, but the first one at his company -, and when you bumped into each other in the corridor, he frequently halted to ask how you were doing and what you were up to. He did that with other employees as well, so you weren’t an exception, but it felt nice that he cared nevertheless. Especially because you knew that he was super busy recording for a new album, and he had his own company to run, so he had a lot to do.
You did look him up in the meantime, listening to some of his songs, and actually found yourself growing fond of his own style, especially when you felt like you could conquer the world while listening to a few of his angriest songs (they were great for singing in the shower when the stress got to you).
However, you didn’t really look up his stages and such, so when you were in a meeting to decide on his outfits for his next comeback and they were showing old press and stage photos and even videos of past performances, you were taken aback to see more revealing clothes on him such as sleeveless shirts, blazers without anything underneath and tank tops. You hoped that no one noticed that you were visibly shocked because you sure were. Seeing him in his usual cardigan and cotton pants combo or elegant, usually loose shirts were common, but seeing him like that on stage… well, that made you feel a bit uneasy because he seemed to know the power he had on his fans.
Days went by, the comeback was closer, and days got longer as everyone prepared extra hard. So after a long day when you wanted to have some time to yourself before leaving for home and joining the hustle-bustle of the commuting city centre, you went up to the rooftop of the company building. You looked at the buzzing city beneath you with all its sparkling city lights while taking a few sips from your carbonated drink and trying to ease the headache that was creeping onto you.
However, when the door to the rooftop flung open, and Seungyoun himself walked out, you felt uncharacteristically bashful as if you had been caught red-handed being here. It was common for colleagues to come up here during breaks, you just happened to be here on your own now. Well, he didn’t seem to mind your presence either, just asked if he could join you.
“Sure. It’s your company after all,” you told him semi-jokingly, and he reciprocated your smile as he stepped beside you, leaning onto the rail just like you did. He had a really charming smile, you had to admit, and it was lovely when his eyes turned into little crescents because he was someone who had that typical cute eye smile that could make girls swoon.
“Sometimes I still find it hard to believe that it’s mine,” he admitted as he looked at the city. You had read that he had been writing and producing songs, even being a back-up vocalist for a lot of acclaimed artists before creating his own company and debuting as a solo artist. You didn't know before that people could be paid a lot from royalties, but he sure had his name on a lot of different artists’ songs, and he had also been working part-time before becoming a full-time musician. So he had absolutely worked hard for it, that was one for certain.
“Is it better or worse to have your own company?”
“In a lot of aspects, I think it’s better because I have a lot more freedom, I have a lot more say in my artistic direction, but on the other hand, if I get into a scandal or my sales go down, the whole company could suffer the consequences including the trainees and solo artists that are here now,” he concluded as eloquently as always, and you couldn’t help but think of the dating rumour that you two had been a part of.
“I’m sorry that-”
“You don’t need to be sorry for that. I didn’t mention the scandals because of that,” Seungyoun cut you off before you could immediately go full-on regretful mode. Then, he gave you a soft, gentle smile, and continued slowly yet confidently. “Part of being in this industry is about dealing with the rumours and groundless accusations. They are pretty much inevitable, so one needs to work on themselves to withstand it. I also did that through counselling, and I still see a psychologist from time to time. They’ve helped me a lot at the beginning of my career, and it’s good to have those sessions to clear my mind and give space to more important thoughts and ideas.”
You heard of the free psychological consultation artists, trainees and employees under the company could sign up for, and you applauded Seungyoun for the initiative and also for speaking up about the matter. It must not be easy for him with the stigma around mental health in the industry, but that was just one more reason you looked up to him.
Since he shared something more vulnerable about himself, you decided to do the same. So after a long breath, you shared with him that you had also seen a psychologist when you hadn’t gotten into university upon graduation, and you had believed that all of your dreams had been crashed and taken away from you. It had been such a dark time for you, something that you didn’t like talking about, but it led you to start working at the 7-Eleven and make friends with your colleagues - something that you had never taken for granted afterwards.
“What would you have wanted to become? If you don’t mind sharing,” he inquired after sharing your sentiment that reaching out to a professional in times of need isn’t unnecessary, but rather brave.
“You’re going to laugh-” You started tentatively as the young man turned towards you to give you a semi-offended glare.
“I won’t, I promise.”
He looked at you like a puppy that was waiting for a treat, eyes all shiny and bright under the dim lights around, and after a long sigh, you gave him your answer.
“I wanted to be a journalist. Not the gossip magazine type, but maybe writing about hidden gems in Seoul, travel content and interviewing people about their life stories.”
When you finished, there was a moment of silence before the boy erupted into laughter. You almost threw hands at him because he had promised not to laugh, but before you could do so, he justified his action, still giggling.
“I thought you would say something like… I don’t know… astrophilosophy, and that’s why you said I would laugh.”
“What? Would you have laughed if I had told you so?” You raised a challenging eyebrow, but in the next moment, you also found yourself laughing along with him.
Gosh, it seemed so easy to be around him like this, it almost seemed easy to imagine that it could always be like this with him despite you two having quite a bit of a history yourselves. You didn’t even want to think about the what ifs regarding your future, you just enjoyed this moment and the conversation you were having.
You didn’t know just how crazy a comeback season could be until you found yourself in one, but it was super busy, everyone was doing a lot of work, and although you were only an assistant, not the ones actually making decisions and tracking sales and engagement, you were always on the go as well. It kept your mind occupied, so you didn’t have to worry about your paranoid thoughts that actually easened a bit once Seungyoun made his comeback and mentioned that the truth wasn’t what was written in those articles once asked about it at a fansign.
He didn’t outright deny anything, he shared only this much, and asked fans to understand that if he didn’t come out with a story on his own, it was to protect the privacy of the person involved (aka you), and he wanted to be as considerate as possible in such an intrusive situation as it was. It seemed to calm the nerves of the fans, and since the boy didn’t post anything suspicious on social media or said anything that could indicate more, the rumours died down. Seungyoun even won at music shows and his album sales were solid, so the rumour didn’t seem to affect his comeback (thank god).
Yohan was having the time of his life in the meantime though, watching variety shows of Seungyoun during his breaks at work because he was loving the idea that you were now working for the singer (he said it was like a fanfic coming true). Instead of you, now he had Minhee and Hyeongjun - the new employee to replace you - to chat to, and as quiet as Minhee was, Hyeongjun was a chatterbox, so these three really gave you a headache with all their questions in the groupchat Yohan made for you all. Somehow it seemed that you adopted these boys as little brothers, and they were living their best life being your adopted siblings.
Thankfully, your parents were also reassured that even though you changed jobs so quickly, you managed the new tasks and responsibilities well, and despite them not having heard of your rumour before, you came clear to them, and explained everything. As expected, they believed you over the rumours and were extremely happy to see that the singer protected your privacy, yet stood up for you (and himself as well).
However, even with a pretty successful comeback season ending, work didn’t stop, and it was true for you and Seungyoun as well. You needed to ask him about some materials, but when you asked his manager, he told you to check his office first. The singer wasn’t there, so Seungwoo suggested his studio.
As you got closer to his recording studio, you could already hear an unfamiliar melody in the hallway. Not that you had listened to all of his songs (okay, maybe you had done so a few times), but you knew most of his songs, so you guessed that he wasn’t practising but rather working on new songs. You decided to ask about it once you knocked on the door and he let you in.
“Are you working on a new song?”
“Yeah, work never stops, and it’s good when inspiration hits,” he explained as he looked up from his keyboard, a weary albeit gentle smile playing on his lips. Even though you were here to ask a work-related question, you couldn’t help but pry a bit. You knew that he was always so enthusiastic to talk about his music to anyone, so you hoped he wouldn’t mind.
“It sounded a bit different from what you usually put out. Are you venturing into something new?” You quirked an eyebrow, curious and genuine as usual. He dropped a shy smile, scratching the back of his neck as if he was unsure what to call this new song.
“I want to, but I’m just experimenting for now,” he reasoned almost timidly, and this was the side of him that you usually didn’t see in a work setting. You saw clips of him being shy when fans complimented him or when other musicians called him their role model, but he was usually this confident, ever-so-ready-to-take-on-the-world kind of artist and CEO at the company, so it was rare to see him in such a state.
“Do you want to have a listen?” Seungyoun inquired as he kept the eye-contact. There was no challenge in his eyes, no fear, no pressure… He was just there, suggesting something that you didn’t know whether he suggested to a lot of people, but you didn’t have any reason to say no.
So you took a seat beside him while he was clicking something on his computer, then the first few accords of the song started slowly, calmly. It was like walking on the beach, by the ocean, reminiscing about the past while getting lost in the crystal clear water peacefully reaching for the sand under your feet. Then, the song gradually picked up its pace, and the waves started crashing down on the shore, unpredictable and hard, like a sudden rainpour that brings heavy winds, dark clouds and unforgiven rain.
The song went back to a more tranquil pace after the first chorus, but the waves hit again at the second chorus, and the water kept coming and coming through the bridge, and with one last burst of rage, it came to an end.
You felt like the air was sucked out of your lungs when it ended, the song felt so personal and raw. Just like how in those movies, you see all these flashbacks while the character is rushing to turn their life around, this is how you felt when you were listening to this song, and when it ended, it seemed like there was an intersection where you could choose where to go, what to take away with you.
“Wow… that was… amazing,” you jumbled the first words that came to your mind because truly, you were very positively taken aback.
“Did you really like it? You can be honest-”
“I really liked it. It was really heartbreaking though…” You admitted as you turned your head to look at the singer. When he was all scooped up like this, many empty water bottles on his desk, bright, wide eyes waiting for your answer, he seemed more like a school kid hoping that you liked the idea he had or the small thing he had put together than the CEO of this very company.
However, there must have been a reason he let you listen to this song, and even though you could have easily dodged the question, you decided to ask about it.
“Was it inspired by real life? You don’t have to tell me if you aren’t comfortable…”
“Yeah, it was,” he told you directly, cutting you off. There were a lot of instances when you could feel the emotion in a singer’s voice, and Seungyoun’s song had to be the prime example of that. It was like he was bleeding through the syllables, that’s why you had such a gut feeling.
You didn’t even want to push for more because he seemed to be zoning out after his answer, but a few seconds later, he started sharing the story behind the song.
“I had a relationship before I became a solo singer, and part of why she left me was because of me potentially becoming famous. We kept getting into arguments, and I knew I couldn’t ask her to stay because I understood a part of her reasoning, but after a while, she always found something to nitpick, and nothing I did seemed to please her. It just got messy, and I didn’t really write love songs because it was difficult not to be reminded of the whole experience. But now the inspiration just hit and this song was born in three days,” he shared without batting an eye.
The more he talked, the more your heart churned, and you wondered if it were to ever be released, how would this particular girl react to it. Seungyoun wrote in the song that he was madly in love, but he was tired of the arguments, and how she always left him first, leaving him behind, bleeding and badly hurt. It might have been even messier than you could have imagined.
“I’m so sorry,” you mumbled tentatively, though you wished you could have said more, said something better. You knew that relationships could be messy, but hearing about someone’s experience who was this gentle and who had such a big heart, you had this feeling that you wanted him to have the best possible relationship he could have. You wanted to see him happy, you wanted to hear his love songs that were more joyful. Was that weird?
Seungyoun’s raspy voice was the one that brought you back to reality.
“I just don’t know if I can ever ask anyone to give up a part of their privacy to be with me,” he shared like a sorrowful plea, and this time, you didn’t need to search for the words. You were ready to give him your point of view.
“Look, you made it happen in my case as well. I think you’ll be able to work it out if both parties want to.”
“Would you really let it?” Seungyoun inquired, and you didn’t have to ask him to specify what he meant. You knew that he was asking about you agreeing to a public relationship, and given that you had that experience or semi-experience, you knew that it was both easier and more complicated than one would think. Yet, it wasn’t the idea that surprised you, it was the way he asked about it. As if he was asking about it in your case as well. As if he was asking about it because…
“Like hypothetically, of course…” He added belatedly when he saw you gaping at him like a fish, unable to blurt out any coherent words.
“Of course…”
“If we actually dated, would you really be willing to give up a part of your privacy for me?” Seungyoun asked head-on, and though you were dancing along the lines of the hypothetical-not so hypothetical question, your heart was bouncing like crazy.
“Yes. You’re a great person and you deserve it. I mean, if hypothetically I was in love with you, I would feel that even more intensively. It might not work out, but at least I would want to give it a try,” you confessed straightforwardly, each and every one of your words genuine. From what you had seen and what you had experienced beside Seungyoun, you had a feeling that he would be the most caring, most considerate boyfriend who would want to do nothing but protect and cherish his significant other, and even just the thought of it sent a pleasant shiver down your spine.
His lips blossomed into a coy, yet joyous smile, and you had to look away for a few seconds to be able to think straight. Afterwards, you tried to divert the topic to the actual question you had come here to ask regarding work, but even after you dealt with that and left his studio, you had this fuzzy feeling in your stomach.
Oh boy, were you in love?
You didn’t mean to, but somehow you blurted out what you had talked about with Seungyoun regarding you two hypothetically dating, and Hyeongjun went crazy in the groupchat. He said that it was a sure sign the singer was in love with you, but you shrugged off his words.
Nevertheless, the more you tried to pay attention to Seungyoun’s actions towards you, the more you realised that despite him being a very polite person in general, he wasn’t like that to other employees; he didn’t get them their favourite brand of fruit juice at the end of long days, he didn’t have hour-long conversations with them on the rooftop of the agency, he didn’t share more and more songs with them in his studio after working hours, he didn’t offer them to give them a ride home, and he most definitely didn’t fall asleep on their shoulder once he pulled an all-nighter in his studio and was tired the next day.
On the other hand, with him, it wasn’t like crashing and burning, it was a gradual landing, not an instant fall. You both needed time to open up, to be more sure about the other’s intentions and feelings, and slowly yet surely, you walked towards the same direction. There was no grande scene either when you confessed, it was just like any other day, it was just like any other recording studio session when he showed you one of his songs, and somewhere along the lines, he admitted that his question wasn’t about hypothetically dating, and you admitted that you knew.
Afterwards, you were both smiles and giggles, and nothing really changed, except that there was an even more peaceful air around you two. Apart from that, everything was the same, you still kept things professional during working hours, but one thing was for sure: at least you could tell Hyeongjun that he was right: Seungyoun’s question wasn’t actually about hypothetically dating.
You didn’t even mind though.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think!
If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for WOODZ or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here.
Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️
#woodz#woodz x reader#woodz x you#woodz scenarios#woodz imagines#woodz fluff#seungyoun#seungyoun x reader#seungyoun x you#seungyoun imagines#seungyoun scenarios#seungyoun fluff#x1 imagines#x1 scenarios#uniq imagines#uniq scenarios
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Ok, so, I just randomly decided to make a list of Top 10 hottest (male) TR charcters... No idea why, it just popped in my head, lmao.
I wrote this 97% for the lolz, so don't take it too seriously.
So, here it is:
Top 10 Hottest Guys of Tokyo Revengers
10. MITSUYA - It's common knowledge that he's the Husband Material ™️ of the series! He was introduced as this responsible, mature, reliable guy with a somewhat eccentric hobby, and you may be into the cool, calm, collected, talented, kind ones, who're good with kids and house chores, but you can't convince me that your ovaries didn't do a happy little backflip with his glow-up in the last arc! You just know he's a little devil behind that whole boy-next-door act. 😏
9. SHIN - Ok, throughout the most part of the story, he was just Mikey's dead brother, who Mikey himself led us to believe was weak, generally lame, and a hopeless loser with women. Then we got the flashback chapters in the last arc, and what did we see? Capable, hardworking, caring, loving, selfless, persistant man, strong both in a fight and in holding his ground. Hell, he cared for vegetative Mikey for four years, pretty much all alone, sacrificing his own dreams and life in the process. Also, black turtlenecks and bomber jackets. That's all I'm gonna say.
8. HANMA - Who doesn't love a bit of occasional insanity?! The ultimate troll, both in the verse and in the fandom, tricked us all good! That's just how bored he was. Annoying, completely random and unpredictable, grinning madman who's only there to watch the world burn, by setting it ablaze with his own hotness! I mean, tall, tattoed, well dressed, cocky, handsome bastard, with sleepy eyes, anyone?! I hate the fact that he's giving an inexplicably strong 'boyfriend vibe'! But, I just wanna call him 'Shuuji'... 🤭
7. HAKKAI - This cutie is criminally underrated and slept on! I know Wakui did him dirty by not giving him a more complex personality than just a Mitsuya simp, but look at him! Tall, handsome, strong, blue eyes, lip scar, piercing. No wonder he ended up with a modeling career! And on top of the stunning looks, he's just a pure, shy baby! 🥺 Makes you wanna tease and corrupt the hell out of him! 🤭 Besides, his implied clinginess and loyalty suggest he's a keeper, and if that isn't hot, I don't know what is!
6. MIKEY - The definition and the school example of that old proverb - the strongest poisons are kept in the tiniest flasks. Yes, having incredible fighting prowess is hot, being a capable leader is hot, having endless authority is hot, being "emo" is hot, being painfully cute is hot... We don't care that he's pocket sized (and mentally unstable), with his endless charisma, our favorite gang leader very well deserved his place on this list!
5. WAKA - Simply, he's sexy and he knows it. And we know it. You know it. Your grandma knows it. Everyone knows it. Teen or adult, law abiding citizen or a crime lord, the White Leopard could make anyone anywhere fall for him at the snap of his fingers! ...if he only cared enough to do so, tho.
4. KOKO - Intelligent, smart, sassy, sarcastic, and plain insolent = perfection. This cheeky, well-read, super stylish, handsome motherfucker had us fawning over his strong, passion-driven personality, hidden under the cool façade. What's not to love about a blindly devoted guy?! It doesn't matter if it's the devotion to a cause or a person he deems important (#lucky Inui siblings). But fair be fair, that habit of sticking his tongue out should be X rated...
3. BAJI - If his fiery, man-among-the-men personality, undying loyalty, and endless kindness aren't enough to make you burn like a car, just take a look at that perfectly chiseled face, cocky smirk, and glorious raven locks! Still not convinced? Well, you're either blind, dead, or not into guys at all! We should actually be grateful that his adult version was only ever shown at the very last chapter, cause anything more than that would have been beyond too hot to handle!
2. KAZUTORA - There's just something indescribably magnetic about the whole "redeemed sinner" trope, and that alone would have been enough to get him a spot on this list! But since he also happens to have the handsomest face in the show, a beauty mark under the eye, the cutest smile, a piercing, a tattoo, and a fair amount of badassery and strength, it all sums up to the total of our dear banana tiger being the runner-up!
1. HARUCHIYO - Does this one really need any explanation? Pathological loyalty is beyond hot, wearing a mask is hot, scars are super hot (as already established), suits are hot, piercings are hot, long lashes are hot, pale blond/albino is hot, green eyes are hot, skillfully wielding a sword is hot, smarts are hot, being a little bit deranged is hot... the list could really go on for days, there's literally nothing about him that doesn't make him hot. "...Being a homicidal maniac and a drug addict?" No, he's excused for all red flags on the account of pretty privilege!
#tokyo revengers#sanzu haruchiyo#hanemiya kazutora#baji keisuke#kokonoi hajime#imaushi wakasa#sano manjiro#hanma shuuji#sano shinichiro#mitsuya takashi#tokrev headcanons#tokrev x reader#mikey#baji#haruchiyo#black dragon tokyo revengers#mitsuya#tokrev koko#tr hanma#kazutora#tokyo revengers manga#tokyo revengers headcanons#shiba hakkai
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NR, E, & M reading since 3/9
Finished
Not Rated:
Jiang sect turn into birds, by nirejseki
Prompt: Along with forming a golden core most cultivators gain the ability to shapeshift. What they shift into depends on the cultivator, but there are certain tendencies in bloodlines. Jiang Cheng has shifted exactly once in absolute privacy. He didn't stay shifted after finding scales and claws instead of feathers and wings, some sort of reptile from the Yu bloodline. He's since been pretending not to be able to shift at all, but you can only deny your nature for so long.
A-Ying, by MissCellophane
Baby Wei Wuxian finds something in an alleyway
A Nephew's Forgiveness, by KarenF (2nd in a series)
Jin Ling gets the opportunity to mend his relationship with his Uncle Wei. There are tears of regret and pain, but there are tears of happiness too!
Explicit:
Impermanence, Transience, Permanence, by Best Bepsy (BepsyGray) (9 chapters)
Unwilling to leave any possible advantage on the table, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji dual cultivate before fighting the Xuanwu of Slaughter, accidentally creating something in the process.
Beset by violence, misfortune, and tragedy in the months that follow, Wei Wuxian quietly bears the consequences.
That "Wangji" guy's profile pic was obviously fake, but Wei Ying admired his art skills, by KizuKatana 🔒, 2 chapters)
Wei Ying put on his best smile, which had never failed him in the past, and rapidly tried to make the mental pivot from ‘meeting an awesome if slightly dishonest graphic artist’ to ‘trying to hook up with the hottest man ever to have existed’.
Never let it be said that Wei Ying’s mind was not a thing of infinite agility, when given the right incentive.
- - -
Wei Ying had just finished an intense, two-month project and was looking forward to going back home. After a cancelled flight, he decided to try to find some companionship to take his mind off spending yet another day in his empty hotel room. He didn't know anyone in town, so he used a hookup app and came across a profile picture that is OBVIOUSLY fake, but the art was amazing. Wei Ying decided to messege the guy and meet up, planning to call him out for the fake pic but mostly he just wanted to talk to the guy about what program he used to make the image.
It turns out, the image wasn't a fake.
Mature:
Away from Trouble, by Ilona22 (🔒, reread)
An overheard conversation changes the way Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian part before he ascends Baoshan Sangren's mountain.
From that point onwards, things go differently.
Jilted By A Jade, by Liebing (5 chapters)
The woman behind the bar squinted at him as she dried the inside of a cup, then her eyes widened in realisation. “Are you…you can’t be who I think you are!”
Wei Ying winced and waited for the accusations to roll off her tongue…‘You’re the Yiling Patriarch who eats babies’ or ‘You’re the Yiling Patriarch who makes crops wither and die just by looking at them’ or…
“You’re that Yiling Patriarch that was jilted by the high and mighty Hanguang Jun!”
Contingency Plan, by krispy_kream
“You’ll still love me when we’re old and ugly, right?” Wei Wuxian asks. “We’ll have each other while everyone else is busy with their kids and their dogs and annoying in-laws.”
And Lan Wangji asks, "Why Wait?”
Unfinished
Not Rated:
Pin the tail on the fox, by RMoonberry
Three years after his death, Wei Wuxian is reincarnated as an ordinary fox.
The life as a fox is simple, but after losing his papa Fox, he somehow ends up in the deep forests of Cloud Recess.
between shield and sword, by shuofthewind (🔒)
Jiang Yanli has settled into her role as the eldest and most useless child of the Jiang when her mother's sister arrives at Lotus Pier with a proposal: accompany her on her final journey around the cultivation world, make connections with current sect leaders and their heirs, and maybe make a friend or two.
Their first stop on the journey? Yunping.
---
In which Jiang Yanli has a chance encounter with Meng Yao and his mother before he leaves Yunping for Lanling, and the consequences reach far beyond what anyone anticipated.
Explicit:
Heart of the Beast, by WaitForTheSnitch
“Wei Ying?” Nie Mingjue prompted him gently. “Where are your parents?”
“They went on a night hunt,” Wei Ying said, a bit evasively.
“Your parents are cultivators?” Da-ge asked in surprise. “Did they leave you here while they hunted? When did they go on their night hunt?”
“Four summers ago,” Wei Ying said a bit uncomfortable.
“Four summers ago,” Nie Mingjue repeated. “What are your parents’ names?”
“My mama is Cangse Sanren and my baba is Wei Changze,” Wei Ying told him, and recognition registered in Nie Mingjue’s eyes.
“Wei Ying,” Nie Mingjue said, sounding a bit regretful, “Your parents aren’t coming back.”
Or, Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang run into Wei Ying while in Yiling and decide to bring him home. And it changes everything.
Temptation, by Karmiya
When his brother's sudden death in the waning hours of the Sunshot Campaign leaves Lan Wangji sect leader, he has to adapt rapidly to his new role. Getting through the war itself was the easy part, however; for Lan Wangji, navigating the world of politics is far harder. When, at the flower banquet, Wei Wuxian approaches him and offers advice, Lan Wangji sets aside their old argument over his cultivation, and the two of them are finally able to grow closer.
Lan Wangji starts to wonder if Wei Wuxian ever was in jest with his 'flirtations' as a boy, and hopes that he can now approach the man he loves more openly, since he is sect leader and no one can now gainsay his choice of cultivation partner. But the very thing which permits him to court Wei Wuxian also holds him back: after all, can even the seemingly irrepressible Wei Wuxian really refuse a sect leader?
Though he is determined to resist temptation and court Wei Wuxian slowly and subtly, Lan Wangji feels doubt as time goes on. Something is very wrong at Lotus Pier, and it isn't only Lan Wangji who begins to feel that perhaps the safest option is to tempt Wei Wuxian away from Yunmeng Jiang as quickly as possible.
Mature:
i have built a future in my mind, by LoopyLiesey (🔒)
While sleeping, Cangse Sanren receives a visit from Baoshan Sanren, and a vision of the future that will befall her son if she does nothing.
What Cangse Sanren sees cannot be allowed to happen. She will protect her son, from those she once called called friends, and even from himself if she needs to.
Dreams of Paradise, by Hauntcats
This on begins during the siege of the Burial Mound. Wei Ying is trying to destroy or nullify the tiger seal before anyone else can get it. The results don’t work out quite how he thought they would. His essence is trapped in between time where he witnesses different scenes of the lives of those he cares about. (The 13? 16? Years when he was dead.)
Then he wakes up in a place he didn't expect.
Once again, not Jiang friendly. If you don't like that, please, don't read.
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A new danger in sight
OKAY IM SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS!! A new racer story, featuring Rafael and vernon, two mayhem causing men in the racer industry. It took me a bit to think on how these two possibly meet, but now after a few days of tweaking I'm upmost excited about this!! @niku30 made me the most incredible pieces featuring these two, and I'M SO EXCITED TO BE FUELED WITH inspiration!! As some might've read; Vernon is the character that got pushed back after Cruze took his spot in the races. But the man still has his blood boiling. lets say he's the meanie of the family.. And eventually turning into a danger thanks to someone who fuels him to the max, and notices they're quite similar. FEATURING rafael, the most hottest man in the world, with his unhinged behavior, and Vernon mccoy, along his dad Carlos. I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY THIS INTRODUCTION. I had so much fun writing this hejdbd
Carlos sighed as he was getting things ready. "Everyone please, be ontime. I dont like to make people wait." Carlos said like a true father that he was, having been invited by the nascar races to have some overal gathering. Carlos was a massive name through the days as the mccoy.. But as Cruze got through the trials and made his way into the world, every now and then, old and new racers would be invited for a party like gathering to connect everyone together. Paparazzi especially loved these gatherings. Some racers that no longer were around or had decided to stop would show up again for a small moment on that day.. Making them all hungry to ask all kinds of questions.. Knowing they'll be overwhelmed by all kinds of people, but it was part of that world. "You have everything?" Carlos asked gently Alissa, who smiled. "Rayner's ready, I might already head out there, would you mind?" Rayner's mom said as Carlos softly gave a kiss. "Of course not, we'll follow soon. You'll be bothered enough on your own I bet. We wont be far behind" Carlos said as Alissa left gently, making Carlos frown as his own son was once again not around, or doing his own thing without much consideration for everyone else. "Vernon?..." He called once in the huge mansion they lived at.. Grunting before he walked through the big hallways. "I swear, its like putting a leash on a great white. Where is that kid- Vernon?" He called again, hearing a sudden displeased voice "What?" He said as he arced an eyebrow while he held his phone in his hand, wearing his black clothing as per usual. "I'm heading out to the gathering we've been invited to. I have the feeling you dont have any plans?" "And what if I do.. I'm not going to show my support to the snake that took my spot" Vernon said as the anger was still fresh, making Carlos sigh..
"We've been asked to come as the mccoy family. If it makes you happy, cruze does not fall under it despite we're family. Do us a favor and show up for our name at least" Carlos said as he already regretted asking his own son. Vernon was a tough and difficult man to deal with. Despite being almost 30 at this rate.. It felt like Vernon was stuck in a constant puberty.. At least thats what it felt for Carlos. The constant arrogance, stubborn behavior, and sass, along a strong unresolved rage issue in combination of a spoiled brat.. Which now became a bit of a rebel.. Made Vernon a ticking time bomb at times.. But nothing fueled it to the max, yet or made it go overboard. It was still.. somehow being able to be controlled and checked by carlos to not make it go too dangerous or to the point it cant be saved anymore. "and why should I. I dont owe anyone- that aside, I feel like you're not approving of anything I've done in the past, especially these days." Vernon said as he looked pissed. "Hell.. I almost feel like you're preferring.. Cruze, over me and now.. Suddenly you want me to join your family name?" Vernon said with a slight threatening undertone, making Carlos sigh. He would almost admit he had been having a better connection with cruze, but saying that would be a wrong move.. With a deep sigh, Carlos replied. "You know what. I dont want a fight with you. I just asked you along okay? At this rate you've been giving me a headache, we've been asked to come as the mccoy family, you ARE a mccoy. You're close to getting into the real games now. Surely you might appreciate to build up some connections that could potentially help you. Might even have some sponsors among them?" Carlos said as a good mention, making Vernon snort. "I would've already been if cruze hadnt taken everything. As if he hasnt had enough-" "I know you guys are a little rough to each-" Before carlos could even finish his sentence, the anger of vernon came through. "Rough to each other- HE stole my spot. Illegally took my car and got a chance in the racing games despite not having a license. Its-" Vernon couldnt even finish his sentence as a threatening look fell upon his face.. Breathing out more strong as Carlos continued talking. "As if you never do anything wrong Vernon.. I know your preference in driving-" "as if you're so clean.. The mccoy name was meant to be a threat.. Everyone feared you. Thats our whole slogan. You used to do the best tricks that were just touching that warning line, just being able to get away with it.. until you became weak for that woman and decided it was enough-" "leave alissa out of this. Okay. Sure, you have that same determination and hunger that wont leave you.. But please, behave. just join for an hour, you can leave afterwards, we can take your car so we can go whenever you want" Carlos said as Vernon rolled his eyes.. before he'd agree.. Making Carlos sigh and go through his hair before they got into one of Vernon's cars, as Carlos drove them to it. For Vernon was just scrolling on the media, seeing who was going to attend the gathering, and sorta party for the higher end racers.. Carlos felt the need to tell the man one thing as they were getting closer.
"do me one more favor.". Vernon turned his head to his dad as he looked displeased. "This is not turning into some type of baby sitting I hope. Do I have to ask approval to get a drink later? Or even better, A little note that says I'm allowed to be up late?" He said as arrogant as possible, making Carlos ignore it for a second. "Please take this from me. Do not talk nor mingle with all drivers. Some are more deranged than the other.. Some might even try to get you off the tracks mentally and even physically. its a harsh game out there with many competitors.. And I have a name that can track attention, including you. I've heard you are after.. Well.." "What?" Vernon asked immediately as he narrowed his eyes. "Things hover around.. and you are a goodlooking man, and you know that, many tell you..-" "I truly hope you're not going to say what I think you're doing" Vernon said as he rolled his eyes, glaring a bit. "Its come to my attention that you're fond of the same gender, and thats more than fine to me-" "Oh great to hear it gets approved this once-" "Leave the sass at home will you. I'm just- Spare me the details... But try to behave at this event please.." "You're assuming I'd just fuck with everyone like that... How low do you think I am." Vernon said as he shook his head.. turning back to his phone with the most displeased look on his face. "unbelievable" He whispered. "I do have taste you know.. There are only very few who get to even come near me. Let alone be worthy.-" "Language.. Vernon. My god. No, I'm not saying that.. But dont get dragged somewhere or.. Mix yourself with the wrong people by all means. There are.. Some racers that just.." a silence hit from carlos before he sighed, knowing some in particular that were.. mayhem in the wrong way to some. "Just take my word. I have no control of what you do, but please dont-" "I got the hint. So much for trusting your own son huh." Vernon said pissed, keeping his eyes to his phone, checking all racer's instagram while Carlos with slight worry looked at his son who had his focus elsewhere...
The silence in the car was harsh.. making Carlos regret the fact I decided to have that conversation. "Look.. Vernon-" "I'm not a ten year old.. Please dont refer to me that way. We're done with this conversation" He said dominant, ignoring his father.. before arriving shortly at the tracks where the gathering was held.
It didnt take long for Vernon to judge everyone around him. He ended up leaning against his own car as his dad was welcomed among everyone, having left his side quite soon. "So much for going together huh.." He said rather silent while being displeased.. Crossing his arms as he watched everyone pass. He definitely didnt do it for his dad, but being there to 'support' his own name, was fine he guessed. "Excuse me sir.. You're supposed to park your car a little far back, like the rest" one of the guys who controlled the area said so, seeming like a security dude.. making Vernon raise an eyebrow with a rather deadly look. Meanwhile as this was happening, a specific racer who was chatting with a few, noticed Vernon.. Side eyeing to see what the younger man was doing. "Do I seem like I'm here to help you fix that. We were pointed out to park our car here" "I- well.. I'm afraid thats said wrong.. sir. So if you please.. for safety reasons". The glare Vernon left to the individual made him second guess his fate.. But eventually, out of anger, Vernon was too tired to deal with this. Stepping to the man, he pushed the notebook that the security man had shown where he should park, against his chest firmly to make him step back.. Just noticing he swallowed as he quickly made his way out of there to make space for the lambo to be parked elsewhere. "I'll show them..". Vernon was already on the verge of being a menace, but being told to move was the final straw for today. Though, out of somewhat rebellious behavior, the man started his own car, but specifically made the most loudest noises to start up his engine to give people a heartattack. Making them move to where he 'apparently' needed to move the car. Many turned around to see the luxurious black lamborghini take attention, making Vernon smirk ever so slightly as he always felt king of the mountain with his own car. He adored attention.. but so far, all the attention was pulled away from him, making him quite furious about it. He deserved to be there for HIM. And his driving. Not just because his family name was known.
The racer, paying attention to the somewhat rookie he hadnt met yet.. smirked to notice that perfect way to show he wasnt agreeing to that security guy that made him move.. Making the man finish the conversation he was having, and smoothly making his way over there.
"Thats yours right.. Good taste you have there.. Italian cars tend to be a very specific taste, not many know how to truly handle those if it comes to it" Rafael said as he approached the younger but taller man.. Making Vernon turn to the rather attractive, raspy voice. "I feel like we havent crossed paths yet.. have we?" The man asked as Vernon tilted his head a bit. "I dont think we have.. Do we have to?". Vernon said rather spoiled and arrogant, as rafael noticed the anger, feeling this was a deep playing issue. "We dont" Rafael said as he noticed Vernon looking behind himself due to some noise, hearing commotion from his dad and all.. "but.. not so fair huh, being used like that?" Rafael decided to dig immediately, sensing he might understand this man far too well.. "Me and your dad go way back. He seemed to be a big deal back in the day.. No offense, but.. He lost his touch, it never was so scary as most said" Rafael said as Vernon turned back to the man speaking to him.. Narrowing his eyes. "Did you now.. He didnt seem to mention you to me" Vernon said as he looked up and down at Rafael, noticing some details on his clothing that referred to a car brand.. A bright red known one. "lets say we didnt really end up on good terms, his loss. Your dad.. he seems all mean, but really he isnt. He has been a coward when it came to me" Rafael had no shame in saying what he thought, making Vernon almost enjoy the fact this man roasted his dad.. almost feeling like it was the right thing to do. The first usual response of vernon was a rather distant approach.. Where his spoiled and rather arrogant behavior would come through, but the more he seemed to talk to this driver, the more he got eager to know more. It seemed rafael knew exactly how to tackle things like this. Their energies slowly started to mix as he broke off the protective demeanor of Vernon that wasnt nessesairy this time, or at all..
Though rafael could appreciate the fact Vernon was insanely picky about who he spoke to or who approached him. That was a nice sign in his eyes. "Ferrari.. Now I remember. you're the driver who made cruze almost fall out.. That was some neat work" Suddenly vernon's interest spiked all the more, not just because of rafael's energy and even giving a compliment.. Which was a rarity. "glad to hear that got noticed.. You like seeing that new driver struggle right? I feel there's some unfinished business on that part." Rafael said as Vernon's anger was shown in his eyes.. In which rafael could sense it. "so who are you? A new mccoy? I havent seen you around yet. you seem like a man who has potential to fit on these tracks.. If not meant to be around here. so why arent you" Rafael just asked, making Vernon breathe in as he raised his head, looking around to see the other racers.. "since someone took my place.. who surprisingly is running around, and a dad.. Who, even being retired, likes to use me as their way to get home safely.." He said.. Breathing out strong. "While dissaproving of my own ways" Vernon said more silent while he got personal, as he leaned more against his own car, feeling the anger spawn. "So you are a racer.. You're no pet. So you shouldnt be handled like one. Sounds to me like you're more than eligiable for a place here." Rafael said as Carlos noticed the two talking.. Stopping his own conversation to get inbetween them the second he noticed them. It was the one thing he so hoped wouldnt happen. "rafael.. I told you to stay away from my kids and keep your distance" Suddenly, Carlos's appearance showed the way he was dissaproving of the racer vernon was speaking to. "Ah carlos.. We meet again. a small conversation doesnt hurt, nor do you have a restraining order on me now do you" Rafael said smooth, making Vernon listen closely..
"I should've known. You do realize not many speak to you for a reason" Carlos said as Rafael laughed low once. "thats called intimidation dear friend. Something you dont have. I dont bite, hard. Cant a man just ask something about another-" "No. you wont lay a hand on him." Carlos said as he touched Vernon's back, making the man immediately correct that gesture. "Dont. I told you not to touch me." Vernon said threatening, glaring at his dad which made Rafael smirk slowly, noticing how some of his words are slowly setting a statement. "Stay away from this man Vernon. put the car somewhere else, away from this man.-" "Its mine. You're not here to control me. You will not tell me what to do" Vernon said strong, glaring as Rafael decided to just go for it. "i'm sure the man has his own voice Carlos.. Babysitting a grown man is no good look. You should-" "you're 44. He's 29. Make one wrong move and-" "with the right assets it can be an excellent way to develop a racer. you brought him here for a reason. I assume you told him to speak to some right. Do some networking" "not to you." "Well thats up to him.. Isnt that right Vernon? and.. You rememberd such a detail so well about me. You've missed me I'm sure" rafael said with a smirk, before he turned to Vernon. "How about we'll move your car just like he asked, and make this man drive himself back home. You're not here to babysit" Rafael said as open as possible, making Carlos glare. "Vernon.". The name calling from Carlos was like a warning, but Vernon was already more strong in tone than he was. "you should've left me at home". Rafael smirked to see the rebellious energy spike.. feeling like this was a build up that finally came to the surface, perfectly when he was right there to witness it. With ease, Rafael opened the door as if he had always done that and got inside of vernon's car as Vernon got in.. Starting the engine loudly before driving off.. Leaving Carlos.
The tension in the car was strong.. Due to vernon's immense anger towards his dad, but Rafael knew exactly how to tackle that.. He sensed Vernon wasnt minding the fact.. A racer like rafael just got into his car, so he felt like pushing to see how far he could go.. "While we're at it.. 'Moving' this car, would you mind.." Rafael said as he just made himself quite comfortable next to Vernon.. "I was aiming to leave soon to a rather bigger event than this, which is far more fun than this.. Dissapointing gathering, aside from meeting some new faces." Rafael hinted that he was pleased to meet vernon. "Its about a few miles from here. Surely a man like you can miss a few minutes?" Rafael said as vernon looked at him only with his eyes with a stern expression, before actually turning towards the highway without question, with a few turns remaining. "Surprising you trust a man you've just met to drive you somewhere" "I just have a feeling. And I cant help but wanting to see how you drive" Rafael said as he smirked once more, noticing the tension of the anger being there, but being controlled and put somewhere for a greater good. Vernon felt appreciated by a stranger.. As the energy was almost addictive to sense, unlike anything he had ever sensed.
Slowly coming to a few red lights.. Vernon's impatience was growing, ticking his hands with one ring onto his steering wheel as normally his own dad would tell him to follow the rules constantly.. But rafael, oh he knew. "you drive these regularly right.. I can see that, but it almost doesnt seem like you use the full potential?" he said as he noticed the car was put in the normal modus.. but just like Rafael knew his own ferrari had special settings.. Those lambo's did too. "Almost a waste dont you think, these cars are meant to be used" Rafael said as he noticed Vernon having a silent moment to himself before his eyes lingered down to the side of the car where all the buttons were located.. While he'd sometimes look up to see the red light still ongoing right before the road towards the highway. Rafael could feel the man contemplating. The true nature was fairly close to his own. Which made the well known and experienced driver poke the bear. Wanting to keep on seeing how far he could take this man out of his resistant setup that was controlled by family. "Since when would a red light stop you.." Rafael just smoothly said, making Vernon look down to the side, not looking at rafael directly but in his direction.. "I'm not your dad. He's not here, nor should he decide whats 'best' for you.. Do what you'd actually want to do. What are you waiting for" Rafael went for it... Seeing a sudden breakage into the man's mind. Vernon pushed the sports mode button in his car before pushing firmly on the gas. Going through the red light and with a good amount of speed ending up on the highway, passing everyone with ease. He drove fast, secure.. way more powerful than he'd normally do.. For rafael watched the man's precision.. Just knowing this could be huge. 'I knew it..' He thought, smirking as he wanted to make sure Vernon would no longer be restricted..
This was getting far too interesting for him to let go off.. In fact, rafael wanted to invest into this now.. Not only to totally make his previous enemy go crazy.. But he felt like he connected to vernon in a special way.. Seeing what this man liked and what not..
'You've been held back far too long.. Its time to make that worse' Rafael thought as he watched Vernon just drive without a single error, knowing exactly how to control his own car, the power a lamborghini has.. The noise was soothing to the both of them. "You did that well.. standing up.." "Thats what he deserved". Vernon was now speaking back to Rafael without any questions.. Matching with someone like that was an one in a million for the younger man. As Rafael told Vernon where to drive, they ended up at a higher placed penthouse up at a mountain, where a party was ongoing. Driving towards the entrance, Vernon perfectly parked while letting the engine run.. "I was wondering when my mutual would arrive in this matter." "What matter.." "Lambo and ferrari's look great together, especially if that individual might not be too much of an enemy of mine. No one dares to drive with the power of a car like this, except for very few" Rafael said as Vernon sat a little more wide in his own seat, snorting. "that just a bad excuse, a weakness." He said, as Rafael laughed low. "thats what i've been saying.. But it might as well mean the right one is the only one able to tackle that in this sport" He said rather forward, making Vernon turn to the man slowly with his head. "You're having a lot of words about something or someone you've just met a few minutes ago." "i've met thousands of people.. I can see who are meant to be on those tracks." Rafael said as he leaned a little closer on his side. "It would be nice to have you on board, see how far you can go.. So very few people have good taste here.. Its almost been working on my nerves". Vernon raised an eyebrow as he listened closely, not looking disgusted when Rafael made himself completely comfortable in the car. "I normally dont really do this, but I like to make this exception." he suddenly said out of context, making Vernon frown.
"you want to make yourself sound special..?". A silent laughter left the more experienced driver.. Noticing Vernon really has that brat like behavior but stayed monotone on some moments.. "Admit it.. you feel good right.. thats the feel you're supposed to feel. Driving over these roads like you're the king, or prince, whatever it is that you prefer.." Rafael said as Vernon just watched the man.. "We should do this more often. Why dont we keep in contact, without daddy dearest interupting..." Rafael said as he smirked, taking his phone as he reached out for vernon's, exchanging their phone numbers. "After all.. I owe you one, for bringing me here, how else would I be able to reach you" Rafael said as he noticed Vernon taking the man's phone and putting his number in.. Having a feeling he was picky about it, but so was himself. "I dont mind sharing info either.. So feel free to text whenever you feel like. For all kinds of purposes. I have nothing to hide" the older man said as Vernon looked at the man's chest and up at his face. "I can see that" Vernon said bluntly as his stern face kept being on there.. Making rafael surely more and more interested. "and not many take it, even if i'm honest.. But I have a feeling you might like to." "what makes you say that.." Vernon asked as Rafael took his phone back, seeing the name in there.. Handing vernon's phone into his hand. "i feel like the younger groups are making it challenging for us again, which can be seen as good.. or bad, depends on how you handle it. I dare everyone to try and challenge me. I know you have it in you.. daddy dearest just, did the exact opposite of what he should do." Rafael said as Vernon listened, raising his head a bit.. While he'd look rafael in the eyes now. "you have a power. I've felt it. control that anger rightfully so.. and put it in one focus.. It might be controlled mayhem.. but it'll make you so much stronger, without loosing your own.. Special touch, that i'd like to see" "Almost sounds like you're giving me advice.. why would you help me, if that means sooner or later you might have a new racer to deal with" Vernon said rather forward, feeling his ego was filled now.. "I like your thinking. Alot.. It reminds me when I was just starting.. but most importantly." Rafael said as he leaned closely, making his words more impactful than anything.
"I like to see.. if the son of the mccoy has its own fuel, His own legacy.. His own style, because I like to believe he does.. far more stronger than what your daddy ever did. Make him seem like a joke compared to you. You need your own voice, you got plenty of it, I can tell.. But you'll have to use it. There are trials ongoing for the next couple of days. You should consider" "If you hadnt paid attention yet. I've tried for a while.. But some snake took my spot" Vernon said as Rafael just leaned more close, pressing one finger on the part between them in the car. "Then make the snake bite himself.. Step on it. By all means, make it regret he did that, since he'll have to deal with a menace soon. Unlike him, you'll have actual support. true support, from the inside out.. and it'll bite him in the ass." Rafael said as vernon looked at the man's hand, before back up to him. "not many seem to like you.. I remember now." "thats because they know it can get dangerous, nothing frightens me.. But I might not be alone on that regard". Rafael was giving the exact right words to the younger man.. making him hungry for so much more. "I'll come and watch, if you get that far.." Rafael said as he smirked before getting out of Vernon's car.. making the man process so much in so few time.. Ending up stepping out as well.. "Answer me this.. Why would you give me advice at all. I asked before. But why. Truly." Vernon said with narrowed eyes as his voice had lowered. as Rafael looked up at the slightly taller man.. Watching his apparance. "Maybe that way i'll finally have a worthy opponent.. making my job a whole lot more fun." he said as Vernon watched the man with a slightly tilted head.. He could see it.. He just broke a chain that couldnt be undone, but it was time it did. "like said, its difficult to find someone.. that knows what good taste is.." Rafael said as he looked up and down at the man, nodding at him once as a thank you before he slowly left inside, making Vernon watch him for a while before he got back into his car.. Feeling his blood boil in some way, in the right way... Being more focused than ever on making it out of those trials.. Into that real game. the man made vernon's mind just switch, the final push it needed to be serious.. that could not be undone.
Rafael watched the lamborghini start loud and drive off with greater speed than ever before.. "I guess you're good for one thing Carlos." He said, smirking filthy..
#emmacreatures#niku30#rafaelferrari#vernonmccoy#Vernonxrafael#vulgartextwarning#racerocs#help im so excited#I swear both these men are too hot
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journey, m | ot7
full title: journey to the dick
pairing(s): ot7 x reader
summary: A Cinderella story but it's a dick pic. Yup, that's right. You find a dick pic on your phone and make it your mission to find the owner of said dick. Time to fuck the seven hottest guys you know! Onwards!
warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of alcohol consumption / partying; horny crack, everyone radiates chaotic energy and wants to fuck; reader is comparing their dicks to above-mentioned dick pic so there's a lot of talk about dick, did I mention there's a lot of dick? dick; smut (fem reader, slight D/s dynamics in some scenes, m-receiving oral, cowgirl, penetrative sex, doggy, spanking, handjob, thigh fucking, dance studio sex, overstimulation, fingering, dry humping, 69, face-sitting, photography during sex, m-masturbation, being cummed on (neck / chest [a cum necklace LMAO] + hand), film studio sex, wall-fucking, being overheard / walked in on during sex (and not giving a shit, oops), implied car sex, implied threesome); non-idol!AU - ot7 x sex friend!reader; each member has their own scene
appearances based on the 'Butter' jacket photoshoots yes, the opening line is #50 of my prompt list LMAO title comes from Journey to the West, except it's dick because that's way more important. also, yeah, this is basically a harem hentai, but it's you and BTS, woohoo! :D
--
"Whose dick pic is this and why it is so inspirational?"
Park Jimin craned his head over to look at your phone, black hair brushing against your forehead. "Damn! That is an incredible dick."
"What are you guys talking about?" Kim Taehyung muttered, yanking your phone out of your hand and peering at the screen. His eyes widened, eyebrows shooting up into his dark brown hair. "Oh, ho! What a high-quality specimen of a dick."
"Why is it on my phone though?" you frowned, taking your phone back from Taehyung. You were sitting next to Jimin on their sofa, contemplating the great mysteries of the world. The black phone case had a cute mouse holding a large sewing needle and sitting next to a spool of sky-blue thread. "I didn't take this one, sadly."
"Maybe you were real drunk," Jimin offered.
"I haven't been real drunk since I projectile vomited in your guys' parking lot."
"That was last week," Taehyung reminded you, smiling amusedly.
You narrowed your eyes. "Look, it was a bad breakup."
"You went on, like, two dates," Jimin laughed, smacking you in the arm.
"It had potential!"
"Yeah, a potential dumpster fire," Taehyung added, rolling his eyes as he sat down on the other side of you. "I know you go for the quiet, nerdy ones, but you're just–"
"Brash? Forward? Ready to sit on dick at any second?"
Jimin was being very helpful.
Taehyung shoved Jimin's grinning face away. "It's a conflict of personality and yours is quite intense, so maybe you should try and be more open-minded about other options."
You frowned, not enjoying this pep talk that you probably needed. In fact, you avoided said pep talk at all costs. You reached back and yanked on Taehyung's ponytail. He prodded you in the left breast in response, glaring. You smacked his hand. He smacked your hand back.
Hey, when you don't have a good reply, resort to violence, right?
You looked back down at your phone. Swollen, red-purple, a good thickness. Nice length too, so hard it was sticking up without the assistance of a hand. You could spy the white pre-cum beading at the engorged tip. It was a strangely clear and well-composed photo. Black boxer briefs. Blue jeans, white shirt.
Fuck.
Could literally be any guy in the history of existence.
You turned the photo to Jimin. "Someone must have taken it last night when I couldn't find my phone for those two hours."
Jimin nodded. "Yeah, seems like it."
"You remember anyone in this outfit?"
Jimin snorted, wrinkling his cute nose. "Everyone was in jeans and a white t-shirt. 'Cause there was that wet t-shirt contest later that night, remember?"
You scratched your head. Ah, yes. Taehyung won. Man looked fucking amazing thanks to working out his arms and chest the past month. Was it solely for the purpose of a silly party gimmick? Maybe. You weren’t complaining though. You did what any good friend would do.
"Oh, right. Who won?"
Taehyung grabbed your shoulders and violently shook you. "I did! Obviously – ah, fuck you!" His tone quickly changed when he realized you were laughing like a maniac, doubling over in a pile of giggles with Jimin. "You're the worst," Taehyung pouted, holding his arms protectively.
"I'm just kidding, don't be mad," you chuckled, reaching over to hug him. He accepted it, but not without continuing to pout. You nuzzled his neck, placing soft kisses on his skin. "I bought you your favorite breakfast when you were hung over this morning, come on now."
His dark brown eyes shifted back and forth before letting out a long, deep sigh and hugging you back. Damn. He had a nice hug now thanks to these arms and his broad chest. He smelled like warm chamomile.
"I worked hard for these," he mumbled.
You patted him on the back before releasing him and holding up your phone. Back to the first order of business.
"Is this your dick?"
Taehyung scrunched up his face. "No? But I don't look at my dick at that angle either."
You puffed your cheeks and turned to Jimin.
"Is this your dick?"
Jimin plucked your phone from your hand. He tilted his head to one side. Then the other.
"Lemme check."
Then he stood up and started walking to the direction of the bathroom. Still holding your device.
"Uh..."
You trailed off.
Taehyung blinked.
The bathroom door closed.
Pants unzipped.
"PARK JIMIN, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
-
"You have to be kidding me, Jimin."
"Be reasonable. I can't get hard from this dick pic. Don't you want to know the owner of said dick?"
You pursed your lips and squinted at your phone, standing in Park Jimin's and Kim Taehyung's shared bathroom, because they were roommates and your friends. The mysterious discovery of said dick pic from last night's party sparked this Journey to the Dick, because it was a very impressive, intriguing, and, most importantly, inspirational specimen of the male genitalia. Clearly you had to investigate.
For science.
Which was why you were standing in the bathroom with Jimin's sweatpants off and begrudgingly getting to your knees. Begrudgingly, because...
"I thought we were supposed to be ordering pizza and watching Running Man."
"We are," Jimin answered cheerfully. "After you suck my dick."
You glanced at the photo once more.
It remained, indeed, very rousing of certain interests.
You gripped the waistband of Jimin's black boxer briefs.
Hmm...
Hold on.
You stood up suddenly and took your phone from him, sudden determination overtaking you.
"I have to do this correctly."
Jimin blinked rapidly, jumping with a yelp as you flung open the bathroom door to reveal Taehyung throwing himself into the wall, coughing awkwardly and hiding his face with his hands as you marched out purposefully. Jimin was still pants-less.
"In the proper order!"
Jimin and Taehyung shared a confused look.
"The hell does she mean, proper order?'
-
kim namjoon.
“Namjoon, may I look at your dick?”
Kim Namjoon looked up from his book and blinked at you over his round glasses.
“Pardon?” he replied in English.
“Your dick,” you responded in kind, in English and with succinct pronunciation. “Your penis. Your willy. Your ding-dong. Your–”
Namjoon removed a hand from his book and held it up. “My what?” he interrupted you, laughing.
Oh good, back to Korean so you didn’t have to flex all the different ways you knew how to say cock in English. “Take off your pants.”
He blinked rapidly, innocently sitting there in his flowy white button-up and brown pants. He even had suspenders. Fancy man. He had dyed his hair recently, a steel midnight blue. That’s how Namjoon was, attractive and book-smart. Absolutely won the lottery when it came to genes and brains. You couldn’t see the title of the book he was reading, but it was probably a self-help or philosophy book. He was into those nowadays, exploring the human mind, while you were more into exploring the physical aspects of humanity.
Fucking.
Luckily, fucking didn’t usually require reading.
(Usually, heh.)
“I have no objections to your proposition. I’m just confused on why so suddenly.”
You dropped your canvas tote bag on the ground. Your red, short summer dress covered in yellow lemons flared out as you shifted your weight to one hip. Your phone was in one of your hands and you waved it around like a baton as you talked.
“Aren’t I usually sudden when I want to fuck?”
Namjoon chuckled, rich and deep, shutting his book and putting it aside. Probably memorized his page number. Big sexy brain and all that jazz. A fantastic characteristic of his.
He also had a big sexy dick you were asking to see right now.
“You are, but sometimes you offer to buy me a meal or a snack first.”
“I mean, sure, if you want–”
He lifted a hand and cocked a finger towards himself, smiling. When he smiled, his dimples appeared. That was your favorite feature on Namjoon. You bounced over excitedly and sat on the couch, skirt flipping up and exposing your thighs, still holding your phone.
“I’m on a mission.”
He quirked an eyebrow, adjusting his glasses detective-style. “What kind of mission?”
You pointed to your phone. “Do you remember that party we went to, the one with the wet t-shirt contest?” You lifted your arm and flexed your rather defined bicep that made Namjoon raise his eyebrows and mouth a wow under his breath. Consistent handys really did the trick when it came to bicep muscle definition. “You remember, right? You showed off your guns.”
He burst out laughing, waving a hand. “They are not guns.”
“Sure, they are. I could do a lot of social justice with your biceps, Namjoon.”
He shook his head, grinning, dimples on full display. “And what’s with the dress? You don’t usually wear such a cute style.”
You ticked your phone to the apartment front door. “I’m meeting Seokjin later, but he said he’s going to play another round of bowling because Jungkook kicked his ass again. But anyway, back to what I was saying…”
“Ah, yes. I think I remember Jimin mentioning something to me now.”
You brightened, unlocking your phone and holding up the screen. “Right! I’m looking for the owner of this dick.”
His eyes widened and Namjoon leaned forward, readjusting his glasses again. “Wow. That’s quite a clear picture.” Then he coughed and averted his eyes.
You nodded quickly. “Well? Did you take this picture?”
He frowned and sat back against the sofa, sucking in a breath and ticking his head. “Mmm, maybe? I was pretty drunk. I don’t remember what I did…”
“Hah… Does this look like your dick, then?”
“How would I know?” he chuckled. “I don’t see my dick from that angle and I don’t have sober photoshoots with my dick.”
You pursed your lips. “Well, I suppose we’ll just have to fuck then. Drop the pants.”
The thing about Namjoon was that he was a very reasonable man. You had a problem and proposed a solution and he, an avid learner who liked searching for answers to the great mysteries of this world, had the means to help you out on your quest, so he did. In addition, he thought you were hot, you thought he was hot, and you’d already fucked a couple times before Journey to the Dick, so the mutual agreement was already there.
Splendid!
The other thing about Namjoon was that he really liked to make you work for it.
Slightly less splendid.
“Are you choking?”
You squinted at him and flipped him the bird. He was well-versed with popular Western hand gestures.
Namjoon nodded sagely. “That’s good.”
And he put his hand back onto the back of your head and shoved your mouth down onto his cock once more.
You had half a second to breathe again before air was forcefully taken from you, Namjoon now holding you there, nose-first into his crotch, sighing contentedly as he expanded in your mouth. You planted your hands onto his strong thighs and pushed, but his hand didn’t budge. The safe signal was three taps and you weren’t tapping out yet. You glared and Namjoon closed his eyes, smirking slowly.
He left his round glasses on.
‘Course he did.
Damn you, Namjoon!
You reached up and pawed at the buttons of his white shirt, making Namjoon open his eyes to see what you were doing as you unbuttoned them rather deftly for someone who had his dick filling up their throat. He looked down at you, cocking an eyebrow. You cheekily cocked one back, poking his pecs with your pinky.
He grinned. “Hm? What’s that?”
You clenched your throat around the head of his cock and he gasped, losing grip for a split second.
In that split second, you threw his shirt open, glorious his tan skin and large muscular pecs now in view, and slapped your hands down onto his thighs, instantly starting a fast, rough pace, curving your neck with every swallow, sandwiching his cock between tongue and top of your mouth, pulsing your wet muscles all over his length, staring at that well-built chest, watching the muscles ripple with his sudden, abrupt inhale.
“Oh, fuck!”
Sometimes you let Namjoon have the reigns, but this time you were on a mission, although it was a little distracting now because presently you had an unobstructed view of Kim Namjoon with his shirt open, head thrown back, midnight blue hair fanning over the sofa, his full lips open and panting, tendons in his neck tensing, broad shoulders flexed, leading down his defined chest and abs, core tight from your intense pace, thighs hard under your hands, cock swollen and thick, pulsating in your mouth. His large hands planted on top of yours, squeezing them with his.
The three taps applied to him too.
Instead, Namjoon moaned your name and gripped your hands.
“T-The picture… f-fuuuuuuuck…”
Shit, that’s right.
You reluctantly slowed, tongue swiping all over the underside of his dick, tracing the veins, moaning hotly around his cock. He lowered his chin, panting hard, dark brown eyes half-open and framed by his lovely silver glasses. It was him who reached for your phone and unlocked it. He remembered your pattern lock and you had only told him once. All your consistent fucks knew how to unlock your phone.
That’s how you had so many pictures of, ahem, good times.
He placed the phone on his hip and his head fell back against the sofa, inhaling deeply as you continued lapping at the base of the head, slowly sucking on it at the same time to keep him hard.
“Mmm, fuck, that’s nice…”
You mashed the tip of your tongue against the slit and coated it with pre-cum.
“Ah, come on, look already and compare,” Namjoon chuckled in his deep voice, raising a hand to pet your head. “Then you can finish me.”
You popped your mouth off reluctantly. “Hmm.” You placed a few fingers on his cock and looked at it, positioning it to the correct angle that matched the photo. “Huh, it’s pretty close. But you have this noticeable vein here, and I think the head of your cock is slightly different…” You squinted and brought your face rather close to his stiff length. “The skin tone seems right, but it’s not exact, and I think you’re bigger…”
Namjoon wrapped his hand around his dick and smacked your cheek with the head.
“Oi!”
You puffed your cheeks, strings of saliva and pre-cum covering your face.
He grinned, dimples on full display. “Oops.”
You jabbed your finger at your phone. “I’m doing an investigation here!”
He shrugged cheekily. “You said it wasn’t exact. Get up.”
You put your phone on top of his book on the side table and glared at him. “Well, yeah, but no need to bop me,” you grumbled, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand, standing up, and removing your panties as Namjoon reached over to his pants and pulled out a condom from the pocket.
You did say you were coming. Namjoon liked to be prepared for you.
“You said you liked it,” he mused as you straddled his lap.
“I do when I’m notin the middle of an important mission,” you huffed, picking up the hem of your dress and revealing your wet pussy, chin cocked in defiance.
“You don’t have to sit on my dick then,” he said, pausing with the condom right over his cock.
You frowned. “Hurry up.”
He cocked an eyebrow, dark brown eyes trapping you in his allure. “Doesn’t seem like you want it.”
You narrowed your eyes.
Growled.
Then you smacked his hands away and rolled down the condom yourself before sliding onto him with one swift motion, clenching your jaw at the sensation of being quickly and solidly filled up, not giving him or you time to adjust. Namjoon tensed his neck, grinning, large hands coming up to firmly grip your hips. Your own came up to grab his biceps and squeeze them, mustering up your most indignant scowl. He chuckled, smirking as you pulsed your walls around him.
“Hold your dress so I can fuck you.”
“Maybe I want to do the moving.”
He clicked his tongue and rammed his hips up into you, making you hiss at the feeling of his cock being driven into your tightness. Your nails dug into his arms, breaths shallowing into rapid gasps as he continued, firmly and roughly fucking you from below, hard thighs flexing and smacking into your inner thighs and ass.
“Hold your dress,” he repeated, voice low and commanding.
“You’re so bossy,” you muttered, reaching down with one hand to yank up your dress, pulling it up high so both you and Namjoon could watch as he very deliberately and very forcefully thrust upwards into your tight hole, smirking wider as he witnessed your expression and the strain of keeping the pleasure off your face.
“Don’t have to give orders if…” He jerked up particularly hard, hitting your sweet spot, causing you to gasp breathlessly. “You…” Smack! You bit you lip, moan trapped in your chest. “Just…” Smack!
“F-Fuck…”
“Listen.”
And then Namjoon seized your hips and fucked you hard and fast with you barely holding on his shoulder with one hand and the other clutching your dress, moaning his name shamelessly to his own face. Namjoon wasn’t a gloater. His face was serious and concentrated, brows furrowed and intent on giving maximum pleasure, maintaining clear control as you rapidly lost it, allowing and trusting him to lead you into carnal desires.
You leaned forward, hot exhale on his neck, changing the angle and letting him hit you deeper, tightening around him. You heard his breath hitch, hissing out your name. Your whispered against his jaw, close to his ear.
“You like it better when I don’t listen, Namjoon.”
So close, so close, so close.
He snickered, dark, devious, sensual.
“I dolove punishing you with my cock.”
You slid your hand into his midnight blue hair and shuddered, pleasure blooming from your core in heated throbs, savoring the intensity of the orgasm he gave you as Namjoon groaned in your ear, slamming you down onto his hard, twitching cock and moaning, spilling his own into the condom, thoroughly enjoying the vicious massage of your spasming pussy. You pressed your lips to his temple, flinching with the shivers that came after, riding out the peak by rocking your hips lightly, enjoying the fullness he gave you.
“Doesn’t seem like a punishment. I’m having a lot of fun,” you taunted, panting and mirthful.
He gave your ass a playful smack and you squeezed his length from top to bottom.
“We have time for round two,” he murmured, nibbling on your ear.
Kim Namjoon was a very reasonable man.
-
kim seokjin.
"Gah, fuck!"
"As a matter of fact, yes, let's."
Kim Seokjin nearly tripped and fell against the doorframe, gawking at you. His expressive brown eyes went wide, mouth open enough for a nice ice lolly to be placed between those plump lips.
"Why are you in my bed? Where are your clothes? Why are you holding Pink Bean like that?!"
You sighed exaggeratedly. Here we go. "I had a nice dress but Namjoon took it and said I can't have it back until after." You squeezed Seokjin's large Pink Bean plush that he usually kept on his bed, a fluffy representation of a boss from his favorite PC game, MapleStory. It had a bubblegum pink head, light purple horns, and a cute :3 face. You squashed it with your breasts and looked up at him, on your knees with your feet tucked under your ass, missing all your articles of clothing thanks to Kim Namjoon.
Such cute clothes only for him? I don’t think so.
Seokjin turned bright red, sputtering.
"D-D-Don't do that to Pink Bean!"
"Why not? You've fucked me from behind and I used Pink Bean as my chest support."
He strode across the room with two steps, his long legs making it easy, looking handsome and summery in his pastel yellow shirt and shorts two-piece set, flapping his hands helplessly.
"That was a special case!"
You started bouncing on Pink Bean, you and your tits. Seokjin's brown eyes nearly bulged out of his head and he actually tripped at the end of his bed, falling face-first with a high-pitched yelp.
"Seokjin, I need to see your dick."
He yanked his head up, chestnut brown hair flying everywhere, shooting you a confused glare.
"Yah! You can't just show up naked and start demanding dick while abusing Pink Bean!"
You reached up and scooped your breasts forward, squashing them between the purple horns, nipples poking out above Pink Bean's head. Seokjin looked like he was about to pass out. Probably from loss of blood to his head.
You balanced your phone in your cleavage, inspirational dick pic between your tits.
"Is this your dick, Seokjinnie?" you asked sweetly.
He started, squinting at the screen between your tits. "The heck? What is that?"
"A dick. Is it yours?"
Seokjin made a disgusted face.
"Are they really that ugly? Mine sure as hell isn't."
"Oh, so it's not? You know for sure?"
Seokjin scoffed. "Come on, there's no way that could be mine, look–"
And he sat up and yanked his shorts and underwear off, slapping them down on the floor and spreading his legs, presenting his very hard and quite pretty dick and balls. He huffed triumphantly, planting his hands in his hips.
"How could that thing compare to–gah!"
You crawled over Pink Bean, shoving the plush against your stomach and placing yourself between Seokjin's long legs, oblivious to his shriek of surprise, holding up his shirt as you compared his cock to the one on your phone.
"What the–where did you g-get that picture?!"
Your hot breath wafted over his twitching length as you held it delicately with your fingertips, ass up in the air, tilting his dick to adjust the angle so he mirrored the photo. "Remember that party with the wet t-shirt contest?” you explained nonchalantly. “The one where I said you'd totally win because of your broad shoulders, but Taehyung got more votes because he had been working out and looking all buff recently?"
Seokjin was gasping as you held up your phone. Hmm, not the same thickness. Plus, he seemed harder, sticking out straighter than this photo dick. But there was a small mole in his dick that seemed to match the picture. The length is pretty spot-on too. You scooted closer, cradling his cock with your palm and coaxing it with your fingertips, ass bouncing on Pink Bean's head.
"Oh, fuck..."
"Anyway, someone snapped this photo and I've been trying to figure out who, but everyone was drunk and, if I recall correctly, you were on a table dancing with a pool noodle and belting Kim Yonja's 'Amor Fati', so I don't think you remember much from that night."
Seokjin's voice was pitched, strained from holding back.
"I remember those... oh, fuck... those shorts you were wearing... ah, with your ass hanging out on the bottom... fuck, wanted to bend you over... but yeah, after that..."
Then you yelped when you felt his hands on your head dragging you forward and pressing your open lips to his cock.
"Ah, yeees..."
"Seokjin, wait–mphf!"
He shoved the head of his cock into your lips and looked down. You narrowed your eyes as he began to gently hump your face, filling your mouth with the hardness. You sucked in your cheeks a little, molding your mouth to him, still giving him your best annoyed face.
"Is it my dick?" he gasped, pushing deeper.
You made a confused noise and Seokjin frowned at you.
"Yes or no?"
Seriously? You held up your hand and hovered it in the air, wiggling your fingers up and down, the universal sign of–
"What do you mean, maybe?! Oh, it's because a phone camera isn't good enough to catch the majesty of my cock, is that it?"
You could had been annoyed, but then you thought about it. He brought up a good point. You hadn't considered that. Still, the shape wasn't exact though. A phone camera couldn't alter dick angle, right?
No time to think about it because Seokjin rammed his entire length into your mouth and down your throat in your moment of contemplation.
"Mmmphf!"
"Just, ah, don't move, let me fuck your face real quick–"
You didn't really expect anything less, so you pushed him down, sliding his shirt up his torso, changing the angle so you weren't straining your neck. Seokjin fell onto his elbows, hands letting go but hips still moving, groaning as you enclosed your mouth around him and rubbed your tongue all over.
"Ah, your ass is so sexy, damn, bounce it for me..."
He seemed to forget that in order to do that, you had to hump Pink Bean like a dog in heat but, hey, when the man who called himself World Wide Handsome (drunk and sober, that was the kind of man Kim Seokjin was) asks you to twerk for him, you do as you are told and give Pink Bean the best hump that plush is ever going to have.
"Fuuuuuuuck, yes, your ass is so perky and juicy, fuck, like a sweet peach..."
You tried not to choke with laughter in his dick, but the action made your throat muscles squeeze and spasm around the head, immediately making it jerk and swell at the added simulation, causing Seokjin to gasp your name and fiercely clutch his sheets.
"Fuck, yes...!"
You looked up, cocking an eyebrow, seeing his brown hair messy and fallen over his forehead, eyelids fluttering, panting as you took over the pace, firmly enveloping him all the way to the base, sandwiching him between your tongue and roof of your mouth, dragging the head over the slick wetness, pulsing expertly around his hardness. His dainty pink tongue flitted over his lips and made them glisten, full, plump, sexy as hell.
"I'm so glad Namjoon took your clothes," he wheezed.
This guy really said whatever thought that popped into his handsome head.
You smirked around his cock and wiggled your eyebrows.
Then you grabbed his hips and really gave it to him, fast and tight, angling your head so he slid into your throat deeply and easily, sending Seokjin into a sputter of curses, prayers, and blessings to who-knew-what, gripping fistfuls of his sheets and throwing his head back, beautiful neck on display and broad shoulders flexed, moaning loudly.
You almost stopped, awed by his perfectly sensual posture.
Then Seokjin thrust his crotch into your lips and gasped your name, shooting down your throat in swift, tense jolts, forcing you to stop staring at him and hurriedly gulp it all down, squeezing your eyes shut so you could concentrate, sucking in a short breath, and making him yelp, flinching to cram more of the head into your constricting throat.
You prodded his stomach sharply and drew an ‘X’, telling him to stop so you could swallow.
“B-But…”
You gave him a bunch of other hand gestures and none of them were nice. It contrasted the way you were lapping at his cock, coaxing him back to full hardness with soft tongue and delicate pushes against the roof of your mouth. He lifted one of his hands and started messing with yours, the one on his stomach making obscene hand signals. You felt him try and grab your fingers, poke at your palm, and, finally, grab your hand and tug it up, shoving your fingers into his mouth.
You popped your mouth off his cock in surprise. “Hey!”
Seokjin looked at you with giant brown eyes like a dog caught with a treat in his mouth. “Mmphf?”
You made a confused face at him.
His tongue started sliding between them, licking your joints and pads of your fingers, wiggling all around, covering you with his saliva and sending shivers over your skin at the strange sensation. You could feel the power in that squirming muscle, his brown eyes watching your reaction, your own eyes fixated on the way it looked, three of your fingers surrounded and crammed into those lush, soft, pillow-like lips, squirming, sensual tongue slipping between them, dripping saliva down your palm and back of your hand.
“H-Hey…”
It was bizarre, feeling an odd juxtaposition of the submissive nature of the act, and yet he was deliberate and forceful about it, staring pointedly as the tip of his tongue snaked out from the side of his lips, licking the side of your pinky.
“S… Seokjin…?”
He reached up and pulled your hand out of his mouth, the pads of your fingers dragging on his lower lip, wet streaks of saliva painted down his chin.
The ghost of a smirk on his open mouth, eyebrow ticking arrogantly.
You blinked at him, unaware that you were clutching Pink Bean with your other hand so hard that your knuckles were white.
Then Seokjin grinned and wrapped your wet hand around his dick and started jacking himself off with it.
“Hey! I want that in me!”
“What? Gah!”
Somehow, you convinced him to fuck you – read: threw Seokjin down on his own bed, put a condom on him, rolled him back on top of you and guided his cock to your pussy before grabbing his ass and yanking down, making you both gasp as he entered you with one smooth stroke, your back on top of Pink Bean.
Pink Bean was really seeing a lot of your naked body today, just like Kim Seokjin.
“F-Fuck– yah!”
That was his noise of protest as you yanked his yellow shirt over his head, throwing it as far as you could, out his still open bedroom door.
“Sorry, needed to get rid of useless things.”
“I like that shirt!”
You grabbed onto his wide shoulders and rolled your hips up into his crotch, wrapping your thighs around his waist and squeezing. He sputtered at the intense feeling of your pussy wrapping around him, arms shaking to hold himself up, brown hair messy and wild over his forehead, brown eyes wide in indignation.
“Sorry, my bad, I’ll pick it up after I get another out of this magnificent dick,” you quipped.
Seokjin turned red, unaccustomed to someone other than himself complimenting him.
“Why are you hanging onto me like a monkey – oh my God…!”
You used his mattress and Pink Bean to bounce up and down on his dick from below, fingers tangled in his hair, wetly smacking your hips into his crotch, panting his name into his ear, your cock feels so fucking good, love the way you fill me, fuck me up, Seokjin, giving him the praise that he wanted and that breathless moan he liked, the one where you added a bit of underlying mischievous depth, pulling back one of your hands and tracing his plush lips, his mouth opening and pink tongue lolling out, puling you into that wetness, locking his gaze with yours.
Soft and tight around two of your fingers as you slapped your hips into his, losing a bit of your power now that a hand was occupied, intense sparks shooting from your fingertips to your core, his tongue sliding sensually between them, your juices leaking out, getting wetter and wetter, head emptying and replaced with sinful pleasure as you stared into those dark brown orbs with blown-out pupils, sparkling eyes smiling at you.
Seokjin took over and started fucking you into his mattress (and Pink Bean).
Both of you completely forgot about the dick pic.
-
min yoongi.
"Ah, fuck, I forgot, I need to see your dick, f-fuck!"
"It's," Smack! "A," Smack! "Little," Smack! "Busy at the moment."
"Yoongi!"
The bed shifted and hit the wall.
"Oh no," came the most unbothered oh no behind you.
"Your damn neighbors are going to complain again," you hissed, planting your hands on the mattress and lifting your upper body up a little to scowl at him. "They're so annoying."
"Yeah, that's why I like fucking you," Min Yoongi snickered, looking back with his curly black mullet in complete disarray, smirking lips dark and swollen from making out. He raised an eyebrow at your displeased expression, dark brown eyes flashing. "Something wrong? Not rough enough for you?"
You narrowed your eyes. "I need to see your dick when it's fully hard."
He raised his eyebrows. "Sure. After this one."
"Yoongi–"
He cut you off. "Hand," he ordered.
You extended your left hand out back to him and he grabbed your forearm, long fingers gripping tightly, before proceeding his railing of your pussy from behind, your ass smacking into his crotch repeatedly.
"Yoongi – ah, oof!"
You slipped and fell face first into his pillows, gasping at the altered depth of each thrust, hard and deliberate, filling you up as you clenched around him, following his rhythm by pushing back with your hips and moaning as Yoongi slowly built up the pace, bottoming out each time.
"Why do you need to see my dick?" he asked nonchalantly as if he wasn't pounding you with it right this very second.
"Because, oh fuck, someone left a, fuck, Yoongi, yes, dick pic on my phone, aaah, right there, fuck, you're so fucking good, that night of the party, the one with the wet t-shirt c-contest, fuck, Yoongi, I love your dick so much, fuck!"
"Why would I do that?" he grunted, spanking your ass with his free hand and making you claw at his sheets, pain seeping into the pleasure and amplifying it, skin prickling hot, causing the excessive dripping between your joined legs. The headboard was now repeatedly smacking the wall.
"I dunno, you were drunk too, do you remember, mmm, yes, harder, yeah, like that, telling Taehyung you loved him and that he was your favorite little alien child?"
Behind you, you heard Yoongi choke slightly in embarrassment.
"No, I do not..."
"See, maybe you jacked off and snapped a memoir on my phone."
Yoongi let go of your arm and firmly gripped your ass with two hands.
"Memoirs are written."
"Maybe if they wrote their name, I wouldn't be on this journey – ah, Yoongi!"
You grabbed fistful of sheets and snapped yourself back up, your hair messy and cascading down your shoulders, meeting every vicious slap of Yoongi's hips to yours, his balls hitting your soaked clit and sending stings of satisfaction from your core to your limbs, so good, moaning his name, his growl of yours punctuated by his nails digging into your ass, give it to me, come on, and you fucked him back, pressing your palms into his sheets and feeling the shuddering ecstasy again and again, deep pulses tightening around his hardness, making him groan with want.
"One more, one more, I'm so fucking close, fuck..."
"You've been close, you're holding back, you're a dick, ow!"
Yoongi smacked your ass particularly hard and you clenched your core so tight that he gasped and probably delayed his orgasm even further.
"You're the one asking to see it," he panted, adjusting the angle to shove you further into his bed even though it wasn't possible, and continued his relentless assault in your pussy.
"If anyone has a nice dick, it's you, you bas... fuuuuuuuck, Yoongi, yes, I'm gonna c-cum, fuck!"
The pleasure shot through you like lightning, waves of tortuous triumph as you clutched his pillow and screamed his name into it, your juices leaking out from around his pumping cock and splattering onto his crotch and inner thighs, drenching his balls, saturating his skin with your sweet scent, Yoongi moaning your name and squeezing your ass as he fully sheathed himself in your shaking walls and exploded into the condom, his whole length twitching and shivering inside your spasming pussy, your ass prickling on pain, both of you gasping for air.
Someone on the other side of the wall was banging it and told you two to shut the fuck up, or at least you assumed that's what that muffled yelling was.
You and Yoongi ignored it.
"Are you... hah... okay?" Yoongi panted, rubbing your ass and kneading it.
"Of course, I am, what do you take me for, an amateur?" you chuckled, lifting your head, your breathing erratic and uneven. "Now let me see your dick, Yoongi."
The other side of the wall kept swearing. Very colorful, very loud, very upsetti in the spaghetti.
Poor thing must not be getting laid regularly.
"Fuck, fine, you know I like staying in there at least for a little while..." he grumbled, holding the condom down as you untangled yourself from his body, sighing exaggeratedly as you turned around and yanked it off. You tossed it into the trashcan that was already beside the bed.
Yoongi had the foresight to be prepared for a night with you.
"I don't have to leave soon. We have plenty of time."
The shouting through the wall seemed to have given up, kicking it once and swearing very heatedly before stomping off.
"You better not. I'm not finished with you."
You picked up your phone and unlocked it, opening your photo gallery, pushing Yoongi down so you could wrap your fingers around his slick, semi-hard cock. It throbbed contentedly in your hand as you began to move it up and down in smooth, tight strokes, flexing your fingers to add variation in the stimulation.
"Mmm, fuck, yeah, faster..."
You pulled the photo up and put your phone on the bed beside his hip and calmly continued your movements, looking down at him, him and fair-skinned cheeks with a slight fluffiness to them, him and his lightly upturned upper lip that gave him a cat-like appearance, him and his lowered lashes over black-brown orbs that held quiet, sensual intelligence. His hair was messy from fucking you so hard, but he was effortlessly sexy regardless, leaning back on his elbows, torso lifted to watch your hand. Yoongi noticed you staring and raised an eyebrow, wispy black strands grazing his dark brow.
“What?”
You smiled.
“Just thinking you’re really hot, Yoongi.”
He cringed slightly, ears turning pink and shifted his eyes away, closing them. Your own roamed down, down his defined shoulders and toned arms and chest, sucking in a breath at the sight, that slim waist and pretty hips, his cock filling up your hand, getting harder and harder, the head getting darker from sensitivity, the slickness of the lube and his own cum making it easier for you and better for him. Your other hand traced his side, running your nails over it and you heard his low moan, raising your head and your eyes found his. He was observing you again, glancing from the photo to you, the corner of his lips tugging upwards, ticking his head to the screen.
“That it?”
You ran your nails over his skin, just the way he liked it, light, pressing in a little when it came to the upper side of his hip, seeing his pupils expand and his breathing shallow, pink tongue licking his lips slowly.
“Yeah,” you replied breathlessly.
You increased the pace, pumping him from base to head, entranced by Yoongi’s expression, desire and cockiness despite becoming unraveled in your hands, his lower body trembling under you, your thighs pressed to his tense ones, tempting you to sit on and rub yourself all over them.
“Pretty dick.”
Slap, slap, slap. Hand on wet cock, sending shivers through you and through him.
“That’s why it could be yours.”
You saw his cheeks flush light pink, but he didn’t look away. Instead, he made piercing eye contact.
“Stop.”
You gasped sharply and ceased all movement, feeling his rigid stiffness pulse against your palm.
“Look,” Yoongi commanded in that low, raspy voice of his.
You bit your lip and removed your hand, strings of fluids snapping between your fingers and his hot, taut skin. His cock was so hard that it was sticking straight up, dark and imposing, twitching slightly. Long pale fingers picked up your phone and held it next to his erection.
“Well?” he chuckled.
You chewed on your lip, squinting at the screen. Reached over and ran your wet fingers over his twitching length, hearing Yoongi hiss and gasp at your touch as you angled his dick to match up with the photo. Surprisingly, it wasn’t that difficult – the position seemed to match up perfectly. He was a little taller and thicker though. The shape of the head was similar, but also a bit off. The skin tone wasn’t quite correct either, the red-purple with subtly differing undertones. Still, lighting might affect that kind of detail. It wasn’t like you knew where this picture was taken.
“Hm… It’s really close, but not an exact match.”
“Well, damn.”
Yoongi tossed your phone aside carelessly, hand reaching out and you bent down, already knowing what he wanted, lips to lips, sliding against his body. You loved the way he kissed. Intense but soft, hand on your jaw and thumb caressing your cheek, nail grazing your earlobe, whispering into your lips, put me between your thighs, and you shifting up, closing your thighs around his wet cock, his lustful sigh and smirk on your lips, slowly thrusting in between your legs.
“Tighter.”
You hooked your ankles, one over the another and squeezed.
“Mmm, fuck yes, you’re so good…”
His words reminded you of the first time, crammed into the backseat of a small car, snuck out of a party to have Min Yoongi pull you into his grasp, tongue and lips all over you, your arms over his shoulders, wondering what you were doing because this kind of guy wasn’t your type, quiet, yes, a music nerd, yes, however he knew what he was doing, light bites on you skin making you gasp and slide down his jean-covered thigh, delicious friction to your soaked panties, tipping your head back to give that decadent mouth more access to your throat.
Your phone vibrated in your back pocket. A certain someone was probably wondering where you were.
“Yoongi, how… fuck, yes, how are you so good… you’re so good…”
His deep voice over your vocal cords, vibrating them with his seductive tone.
“DND your phone,” he purred, drawing a line down your throat with his tongue, coating you with his saliva, his musky, woody cologne transferring to your shivering skin.
“What…?” you panted, unable to think straight.
He plucked it out of your back pocket, tapping it against your arm.
“Put it on do not disturb and I’ll make you cum so hard that you’ll be coming back to me all the time.”
You fumbled with your phone, strong hands scooping out your breasts from your top, those lips sinking into your cleavage and tongue ghosting over your nipples, moaning as you dropped it, ignoring Park Jimin’s text, lost in those skillful hands and that expert mouth that eventually kissed down to your pussy and drove you crazy, but not before setting your skin on fire and making you beg for it.
“Yoongi…”
His lips on yours, his eyes and your eyes both half-open, marveling at the way his lashes adorned those black brown orbs and the way he looked at you, drunk on lust and your body.
“You want me?”
Hands on your hips, grinding you down on his thigh, teasing you. He wasn’t your type, he wasn’t your type, he wasn’t your type… so why, why did that sly, knowing gaze do things to you? Why did it make your heartbeat stutter and your juices seep into the denim of his jeans, so turned on that you didn’t want anything else right now but Min Yoongi?
It just didn’t make any sense.
“Y… Yeah…”
That smirk.
“I know you do.”
You did end up coming back all the time.
He was very good and it wasn’t just his mouth.
Yoongi backed up and smirked, open-mouthed, mischievous, so fucking hot that you felt your pussy throb at the mere sight, his warm, pulsing length still jammed between your soft, closed thighs.
“You wanna ride my dick?”
You grinned. “Thought you’d never ask.”
You completely forgot about the photo and spent the rest of the night on Yoongi’s cock and ignoring the yelling from his neighbors.
-
jung hoseok.
“Hoseokie…”
Teeth on your ear, a dexterous, teasing tongue flicking your earrings, your name coming out of that heart-shaped smile in a low, sultry whisper that contrasted it.
“You can’t come here looking like this and not expect me to want to ruin you,” Jung Hoseok purred into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
Your lips curved into a smile.
You were on your knees, spread out a little, short black minidress hiked up your thighs, facing the mirrors of the dance studio. Hoseok knelt behind you, hands travelling all over your body. Deft fingers, neatly manicured nails, his sharp jaw grazing your shoulder, pulling down the thin straps. Your large hoodie was tossed to the side, scattered onto the hardwood floor in haste. The frosted door of Smile Hoya’s rented dance studio space was locked, hip-hop music blaring loudly, and in the center was you and Hoseok.
You knew he could hear your shuddering exhale well, already attuned to the sounds of your pleasure.
He smirked and kissed the top of your ear, yanking down the top of your dress.
It wasn’t like this the first time.
“Ah, well, I was hoping… wondering, ah… I don’t know how to say…?”
You were in his bedroom at the time, confused. “Yoongi said you wanted to talk to me about something? What is it, Hoseok?”
He had been very nervous, somewhat shaky, staring into your eyes. You reached over and squeezed his hand, tilting your head. He took a moment to speak, hiding his brown eyes under his blond hair.
“Uh, well, I was talking to hyung and I mentioned I… I feel like I have to put up a front sometimes. Because I’m so happy and stuff. Women expect me to be like that… in bed… And he suggested that maybe you could help me… chill out, but, uh, that’s really rude to say, ah, I shouldn’t have–”
He tried to yank his hand out of yours in panic but you held on, tugged forward by his movement. Hoseok squeaked, ears turning red, freezing in place.
“Hey.”
You held his hand and patted it with your free one, smiling gently.
“I absolutely can help you chill out when it comes to sex. What do you want to know? What do you want to do? I’ll teach you.”
You noticed his expression change from panic to worry, chewing on his lip.
“N… No, you misunderstand… It’s not having sex, I…”
He trailed off, suddenly silent. You frowned slightly, nudging him. Hoseok cleared his throat and looked you dead in the eye.
“I’m not nice.”
Now he squeezed your hand tightly, breathing in your scent.
“Or rather, I don’t want to be nice when I fuck. Sometimes I want to let go and just…” He frowned, not seeming to know the word.
You leaned in, whispering in his ear.
“Fuck?”
“Yeah, I just… don’t want to think about an image I have to uphold.”
You grinned. “Yoongi did direct you to the right woman.”
His blond hair was even lighter now, the tips dyed with navy, a soft, sexy contrast to his rich tan skin. This was now many, many fucks later, hooking up at parties, at random times at his apartment, and now at the space he rented to practice dance on his own. Hoseok liked to freestyle and feel the music. When he fucked, he liked to feel the moment.
His hands gripped your breasts and squeezed, sandwiching your nipples between his index and middle finger, tugging hard.
You gasped in his hands, just what he wanted, open-mouthed smirk and all.
“Hoseok… I have to… ah, ask you something…”
He shoved his hips into your back and you gasped at the thinness of his shorts, rubbing his hardening cock against the top of your ass. A brown orb watched you through the mirror and he was smiling that brilliant, heart-shaped smile, contrasting his forceful touch.
“What do you want to ask?” he chirped cheerfully, pinching your nipples and twisting them.
You moaned, savoring the swift, firm pain followed by the pads of his fingers rubbing the tips of your nipples, grinding your ass onto his stiff length. Your phone was in your right hand. You bit your lip, seeing him watch you carefully in the mirror. You raised the phone and unlocked it.
“Is this your dick?”
You noticed Hoseok pause and squint. You turned your phone and held at up so he could get a good look. His hands were still on your tits, although he had paused the moment to view the image, blinking rapidly at it.
“When was this taken?” He tilted his head, looking confused.
“The party with the wet t-shirt contest? The–”
“One where Yoongi grabbed Taehyung and told him he was his favorite alien child?”
“Oh? You do remember?”
Hoseok winced, as if the events of the night haunted him. “I remember… not much after that…”
“Oh…” You faltered. “So you wouldn’t remember if you took this picture on my phone, huh?”
“No, sorry.”
“Then… can I see it?”
He grinned. “You have to earn it.”
Earning it could mean anything.
Today, earning it meant cumming at least three times with Hoseok’s fingers before he even let you take off his shorts.
“H-Hoseok…!”
He always smelled so good, so fucking good, orange and musk complemented with the barely-there vanilla sweetness, a scent that always seemed to linger on your skin afterward. His lips were on your neck, leaving small bites, chuckling darkly. One hand on your nipple, the other between your legs, your dress bunched at the waist and your panties at your knees, not letting you take any of it off, forcing you to watch yourself as he wrecked you, teasing your oversensitive clit with his fingertips, slick and slippery, thighs shaking from the second orgasm and coaxing you to the third, sharp throbs of lust causing your eyes to roll back, head falling against his shoulder.
“Hoseok, p-please…”
He had no trouble holding onto you, flexible and strong, and you were grinding your hips down, lost in the feeling, leaking everywhere because he hadn’t actually put his fingers inside you yet, teasing you and teasing you and teasing you, driving you crazy, please put your fingers inside me, please Hoseok, your name murmured gently in your ear, no, not until the third time, and then I’m going to put my cock in you once you’ve shown me how good of a girl you are, and you were going to lose your mind, shivering in continued ecstasy, squirming in his hands, your own reaching back and fisting his hair and white shirt, moans masked by the loud music, so close, so close, your perfume mixing with his, sex and cologne, shivers and heat, teeth on your ear and circles rubbed onto your aching nerves.
Shallow gasps.
Peaking pleasure.
Seeing nothing but black, eyelids fluttering, wanton moans torn from your throat.
The song ended.
Hoseok removed his hand from your nipple and covered your mouth, muffling your scream as you came, taking your air and your sanity, pleasure rocketing up your core, crying out with need for something, anything, inside you, pushing your hips back into his crotch, feeling his cock swell at your bouncing ass, desperate for him.
The music began again.
Now you were on your hands and knees, suddenly released, gasping for breath, legs shaking from the aftershocks.
“Look.”
Turning around, your shaking hands pulling down his shorts hurriedly, still wearing your black dress and panties around your knees, hardly registering the inconvenience, not caring, completely focused on the semi-hard length in front of your face. No time. Hoseok gave you no time, grabbing your face and dragging your open mouth to him, sliding into your lips, his oversized shirt touching your nose, you whimpering at the hotness and tautness of his velvet skin. The fullness invaded your throat, taking your breath away. He buried himself all the way in before yanking his shirt up and over his head, tossing it aside with his vest that was shed earlier, far too hot now, looking down at you through his lashes.
“Don’t choke.”
Hand in your hair, pushing you down, not letting you move as he rolled his hips into your face, the head rubbing against the rood of your mouth and your tongue pushing it up to make it tighter for him, taking him deeper, hazy and intoxicated on orange, musk and vanilla. His other hand held your phone up, unlocking it with ease.
Smirk on those lips, heart-shaped and teasing. “So? Is it mine?”
You whined, not wanting him out of your mouth.
“Your choice,” Hoseok chuckled, tone light and unassuming, the edge of danger only visible in those sparkling brown eyes. “Find out or I’ll cum in your mouth and not in that pretty pussy of yours I’m looking at right now.”
Right, because you were bent over, ass facing the mirror, wetness dripping down your inner thighs.
Fuck.
You backed up, growling, glaring at the picture you knew all too well now.
“Well?”
Fine, fine, fine, you were on this fucking Journey to the Dick, and it was starting to feel more like an annoying side mission than the actual main storyline, but, whatever, you reached up and angled Hoseok’s cock slightly, sucking in a breath with him as you looked from phone screen to the delicious real-life specimen. Hm, okay. Similar in length and color. Not in angle though. Shit. And not in width either, barely a hair slimmer and the vein placement was more prominent on Hoseok’s length than this dick.
“Fuck, it’s really fucking close but I don’t think it’s yours.”
“Shit,” Hoseok sighed, turning your phone off and tossing it onto his discarded shirt. “Oh well.”
You narrowed your eyes, pouting. “What kind of react–gah!”
Hoseok pushed you down onto the ground, pushing his shorts down to his knees and pulling out a condom from the pocket, cocking a brow. You sputtered, trying to untangle yourself from the labyrinth of your own clothes, but only managed to kick off your panties before he got the condom rolled down and pushed your legs up, lifting your ass completely off the floor.
“Can’t have this pretty ass on this dirty floor,” he snickered, lifting himself higher, bending you in half, almost on your upper back, nearly uncomfortable, but Hoseok was stronger than he looked, and when he gave you what you needed, you instantly forgot about the discomfort.
“Oooh, fuck, Hoseok!”
He plunged into you, into hot wet tightness, stretching you out easily from the previous wetness, clit throbbing as he smacked his hips down, his balls slapping against your ass, drawing out another moan as his fingers brushed your clit, making you spasm and clench around his cock as he teased the overstimulated bundle of nerves.
“Fuck, yes, so tight, so wet, so desperate for a cock to fill this hole, aren’t you?” he purred, still so sweet but with such dirty words, so handsome with his blond hair and navy tips, heart-shaped smirk and glittering eyes, and the way he said your name, dainty and serene, slowly thrusting into you, but so hard, he was so hard from being inside you, completely consumed by the physicality of the act and no longer the same man who had been worrying about how you would perceive him.
That seemed ages ago now.
Your hands reached up between your legs, running your fingers through his hair, completely forgetting about the photo of the mysterious dick and focused on the one thrusting between your legs, smiling up at him, those brown eyes and lovely jaw.
“You’re so good, Hoseok, so fucking good to me, fuck, harder, yes, ah…”
Both of you forgot about the music, fucking through the pause between them, hoping that everyone else was too busy with their own choreography to think about the hot gasps and moans exchanged between you and him in the middle of the room, the act reflected in the wall of mirrors, the slap of skin-on-skin echoing off the walls, your name and his name in breathless whispers, tight and full and hot and wet and soaring on sky-high pleasure, climbing altitude and running out of oxygen.
“Fuck, gonna cum, fuck–”
“Ah, Hoseok, yes…”
Tip, free-fall, you clamping a hand over Hoseok’s mouth and his hand over yours, screaming into each other’s palms at the intensity and the force of orgasm, smacking your hips together and holding them there, feeling his cock twitch inside you and your shivering walls clamp around him in rough, intense pulses.
It took a moment to disembark from the euphoric high.
“Hah… we should… probably not fuck here…” he gasped, falling a little, cradling your ass so it didn’t directly touch the floor.
“I’d fuck you anywhere, so that’s your fault. You need to be the voice of reason.”
He laughed, rich and infectious, and you grinned, holding his head against your breasts and hugging him tightly.
-
park jimin.
“I hate you.”
“Come on, Jimin.”
"I was supposed to be first!"
"Oh my God, are we going on about this again?!"
"You were supposed to suck MY dick first!"
"Stop being a fucking brat, Park Jimin!"
"No!"
You tackled him and you both fell to the floor, rolling into a mess of giant t-shirts, fierce kisses and your hands in his now red hair, fiery and hot-headed like he was being right now.
"You little–"
"Don't you dare call me little!"
"I was gonna call you a little shithead but if you wanna be a big shithead, that's fine with me!"
He pinned you down and you grabbed his waist with your legs and rammed your crotch into his black shorts, making him gasp in horny pain and crumple into his laundry that you were supposed to help him fold, but instead you were wrestling and he was complaining about not getting his dick sucked.
It was your turn to pin him down with your arms and your thighs, Jimin seeing stars as he struggled to breathe from your lower belly smacking his erection the wrong way.
"Why, ack, why did you run off saying there's a proper order?" he choked out, choking harder as your panty-covered mound sat down on his length and started rubbing up and down, smirking down at him, his red hair flaring out on his cream rug.
"'Cause there is," you replied, calm and cool.
"Order of what? Order of how you fucked us?"
"Nah, I fucked Yoongi first, remember? At that party, ages ago..." you hummed, extending the expanse of your movement, sliding up and down his thighs, his plush lips open and moaning softly, his grip on your large t-shirt tightening. It was actually his, because neither you nor Jimin knew the meaning of keeping your clothes on.
"Yeah, in my car!"
"Eh, you were drunk and playing pool with Taehyung, which, by the way, he mad cheated and you didn't even notice."
"Fuck!"
You weren't sure if that exclamation was related to your teasing or Taehyung cheating, but Jimin removed one of his hands from your shirt and flipped off the wall, in the direction of Taehyung's room.
Ah, so not you.
"Is it age order? But Namjoon isn't the oldest..." Jimin refuted himself, frowning.
"He’s first because he's kind of like the leader of you guys, isn't he? You all end up listening to his reasoning anyway."
Jimin squinted, pouting. "That's just because his tall and smart and has a fatty IQ."
You grinned. "148."
Jimin looked very annoyed that you remembered the exact number.
“I never thought about it, but other than that, it is age order, huh?” you mused, bouncing on his dick.
He shuddered with satisfaction, rolling his hips into you. “Then why would you…?”
You shrugged. “Your names sound good together like that. Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Jeon Jungkook…”
Jimin added your name last with an amused smirk. You bit your lower lip, cocking an eyebrow and sporting a devious smile, leaning down. Lips to lips, a soft sigh, remembering that night, stumbling out of Jimin’s car and tangled in Yoongi’s touch, still kissing Yoongi with your ass on the hood of the car. Jimin had been annoyed at you then too, how could you fuck him first and not me, Yoongi laughing in that raspy, sexy way of his, because I asked, dumbass, Jimin grabbing your face and kissing you right in front of Yoongi, the older man clicking his tongue and squeezing your ass tighter, unimpressed.
In some ways, that night started off the chain reaction of hey, why not me?
Okay, maybe you did have some frustrations about your dating life and ended up tumbling into their beds for, ahem, emotional support, but in your defense, they were all great when it came to emotional support.
“Sit on my face.”
“That’s not the angle of the dick pic though.”
“Then just take the pic from that position. That’s how it was taken, right?”
Sometimes, Park Jimin was a damn genius.
He was great at eating pussy too.
“Ah, fuuuck, Jimin…”
A little messy at first, humming approvingly at your taste, thrusting his tongue into you and moaning as your muscles closed in on it, your slick nectar painting those beautiful, soft lips, him pressing them to your heat, lewd kisses, tongue swiping up and down.
“Gotta clean you up so you can dirty me up,” he breathed, tracing sensual patterns in between your thighs with his tongue, small nips to make you whine, his hands on your ass, moaning into your pussy as your kiss came into contact with his rigid cock, dripping saliva and licking it back up, gyrating your tongue at the tip and licking off the pre-cum, savoring the taste, strong and almost sweet.
Everything about Jimin was sweet, even when he was frustrated with you.
“Fuck, give it to me.”
His hands on your ass, pushing you down, setting your pussy flush onto his lips, blocking off his airway and moaning hotly, desperate, needy, wanting your noises as you swallowed him, his length swelling in your mouth at the wet encasement, swirling your tongue all around.
You’re so mean. I can’t believe you wouldn’t ask me first, get on your knees, come on, aren’t you sorry?
You weren’t, not even in the slightest bit sorry for fucking Yoongi in his car, but you had enjoyed his little pout and twinge of jealousy, kisses up his muscular thighs, the same thighs you were clutching right now, one hand tucking your hair behind your ear, remembering his hand on the back of your head, pushing you down on his cock, the same cock you buried all the way into the back of your throat, blocking your own ability to breathe, suffocating on it as Jimin groaned, coming back up for air, rushing exhale washing over your skin before returning to his work on your clit, rapid, intense licks that shimmered pleasure through your veins.
Jimin made you choke on his dick after the Yoongi incident, but you were the one in control of it now, rutting the head against your throat muscles, feeling it get harder and harder. He always felt so good in your mouth, recalling him saying once, I just really like getting my dick sucked, shut up and stop shaming me, tongue and lips and saliva, remembering how much he liked it when you held the base and focused on the tip, his muffled whines getting more intense and vibrating your core, making sure to pop your lips over the bottom of the head every time you came up and then pressing them tightly as you went back down, doing it all at that fast, suffocating pace that made him stop licking you to throw his head back and moan, loud lust radiating off the walls, not caring about disturbing anyone, too absorbed into your pace to be considerate.
“F-Fuck, yeah, just like that, fuck, you’re so good…”
Jimin was part of the reason you were good.
He really liked getting his dick sucked. Your mouth was one of his favorites and usually readily available.
Win-win.
“Faster, fuck, oh, shit, I’m gonna cum, mmmphf!”
He grabbed your ass and smothering himself with your pussy, body trembling under you as his cock jerked and shot into your throat, your lips closing in, sucking hard to drink his cum, his moans filling your wet hole and tongue all over your clit, furiously licking as you rubbed the twitching head into the roof of your mouth, his hips squirming at the overstimulation, but his violent grip and nails digging into your ass was telling you to do it, telling you he loved it, telling you he needed it, begging you to do what you did best, gulping around the head and then jamming it into your throat, cutting off your air.
He sucked on your clit, hard, whining so loud that you could feel it in his chest and racing heartbeat pressed against your lower belly, almost lifting your lower half with his upper body alone, showing off his strength from dancing. You angled your head, taking as much as you could, nose in his balls, whimpering around his cock and the snap of orgasm making your entire body flinch, leaking all over his face and into his mouth, his nose buried into your pussy, tongue soothing your throbbing clit, wave after intense wave, barely breathing, lightheaded with pleasure, clutching his thighs tightly, naked bodies suddenly dirty, surrounded by clean laundry.
Jimin yanked his head out from between your legs, panting in satisfaction, diving back in to shove his tongue on your quivering hole and scoop out your orgasm, sucking it out to drink it, murmuring your name into your slick juices.
“You taste so fucking good, fuck…”
You came up for air, gasping, tongue lolling out, holding his cock and rubbing the slit against your wet muscle. His stiff length twitched, still hard because of your mouth.
“Take the picture, mmm, yes, did you forget?” Jimin gasped into your pussy.
You fumbled with your phone beside his leg, still reeling from orgasm and Jimin’s continued ministrations, putting it in selfie mode and seeing the lower half of your face, chin shiny with saliva, his cum dripping off your lower lip, his cock in front of your face and naked chest, your breasts pressed into his abs.
You thought about licking off the visible cum, but then you decided against it, snapping the photo with your tongue hovering close to his rock-hard erection.
You knew the composition of the inspirational dick pic now, so you brought it up in a photo editing app, putting the two side by side while wrapping your lips around the head of Jimin’s cock, sucking it leisurely like a lollipop. He didn’t ask you to get off.
Instead, he planted your pussy into his face and suffocated himself with it again.
You studied the two photos. Hm. Firstly, yours was much sexier. No offense to white t-shirt, blue jeans, and black boxer briefs guy, but your glistening cum-covered lips and squashed tits in the background of the cock made the photo eons better than his. Jimin would definitely be asking for yours later. Anyway, back to the picture. Hmm. Jimin’s dick was slightly shorter and straighter, with a warmer skin tone to his purple-red tip, although the head shape was spot on. Was that possible to have a different length but almost identical head shapes? Did dicks work that way? Did Jimin have an equally sexy twin brother or doppelganger somewhere?
Hm, a threesome with basically two Jimins would be hot as hell.
He patted your leg and you climbed off him, sighing as you rolled over and pursed your lips, concluding that his wasn’t the mystery dick. Once again, close, but no dick. Wait. That wasn’t the saying. Eh, whatever.
“Fuck, send me that photo later, I’m gonna jack off to it.”
You laughed, feeling him crawl beside you and roll you onto your stomach, pinning you down with his naked body. “You wanna jack it to your own dick?”
He was rubbing said dick into the crevice of your ass cheeks now, using your saliva was lube. “Fuck yeah I wanna jack it to my own dick with your lips covered with my cum and your titties on my stomach, sounds fuckin’ hot.”
“You’re such a pervert, Jimin.”
“And you aren’t?”
The front door slammed shut. There was a loud yell of your name in deep baritone.
“Aw, hell no, I’m getting it in this pussy first, I got time before he comes to collect,” Jimin growled, reaching into his discarded shorts and ripping open a condom, scrambling off you and rolling it down his still-hard length, grabbing one of your legs.
You shifted to your side, glaring at him. “What am I, taxes?”
The deep voice called your name again, asking where you were.
He didn’t have to wait long for an answer though, because Jimin thrust into you and you ended up moaning Kim Taeyang’s name to inform him of your whereabouts, causing Jimin to bend over and fuck you hard and rough.
“I can’t believe you would moan his name like that with my dick inside you,” Jimin growled, looking far too cute to actually be pissed at you. “Gonna fuck you so hard that you’ll be sore for him.”
Everything about Jimin was sweet, even when he was firmly fucking you into his floor and making you yelp as Taehyung burst the door open, sighing at the scene.
“Who would have fucking guessed what you two are doing…”
-
kim taehyung.
"You're so fucking stubborn."
"Wow, that's really rude, I don't make comments about your–"
"Shut up, I'm deleting his number."
You narrowed your eyes and frowned, sitting with one leg bent on Kim Taehyung's bed. He was currently in possession of your phone, clicking his tongue and pressing buttons on the screen.
"When someone tells you to leave them alone, you leave them alone," he scolded.
You cowered slightly, eyes shifting. "I was only asking if he was doing anything this weekend... I didn't have any ulterior motives..."
Taehyung squinted. You deliberately avoided his gaze. He sighed, crossing his arms. You were still wearing Jimin's shirt with nothing underneath so, uh, maybe he had good reason to be suspicious.
"You have a virgin kink."
You choked on nothing. "What, no, I don't–"
Taehyung reached over to his desk and put on the thin, gold-framed glasses he kept there. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. You abruptly stopped talking and gawked at him, breathless at the way his dark brown orbs were bordered by gold and his long, black-brown hair, the rest tied back in a small ponytail.
"And a glasses kink."
He took them off and you sucked in a tight breath, grimacing.
"That's why you keep going after these kinds of guys," Taehyung tutted, neatly folding the specs and placing them back on his desk. "And why you bonked Namjoon-hyung so fast, only to realize that he is not, in fact, a virgin."
"W-Well, he's still good..."
"Same reason why you got so excited when–"
"Look," you cut in, chopping the air with your hand, not letting Taehyung finish. His eyebrow seemed permanently raised. "I'm off my bullshit for now, no? I've got a mission–" You pointed to your phone and he held it out of your reach. You scowled and bounced back down into the bed. His eyes weren't following your face, but you ignored it. "–and I'll stop okay?"
Taehyung cocked his other eyebrow.
"Serious. You just deleted all the numbers except you and your friends, right?"
He turned the screen, thumb hovering over a certain number. Him and his friends were listed from one to seven, in order.
His thumb was over number seven.
"Don't," you whined. "Please, Tae."
His brows lowered, serious expression on his handsome face.
Then he smirked, dumping your phone on the bed.
"Silly girl," he drawled, crawling onto the bed, advancing towards you, sultry gaze and enchanting eyes making you forget about your device. "Why would I do that? He likes you so much."
You growled slightly, letting him push you down but not relenting. "That's really fucked up."
"That I wanna hear you say please?"
His hand lifted and cupped your chin, mischievous smile, unable to contain his pride for his little trick, sliding his leg between your thighs, tilting his head.
"Not just any please," he murmured, deep voice silky smooth, dark curled stands brushing against your cheeks he leaned in, hot exhale on your lips. "Your needy please when I threaten to take your precious Jungkookie from you."
You tried to close your legs but he stopped you with his knee, tilting his head, highly amused at your narrowed eyes.
"You don't like it?" He was leaning down, feathery kisses on your lips and cheeks. "I know you like it when I tease you." His honey voice was dripping into the fire, turning into fuel that fed the sparks of arousal, your hands coming up to clutch his black shirt, pulling down the center zipper, his deep chuckle in your skin, hand from your chin sliding up to your hair, the other tapping down your front, grazing the thin t-shirt material.
"Don't..." you gasped, his deft touch toying with the hem. “Don't use the others against me. That's not fair...”
“Mmm, yeah?”
Drawing circles on your inner thigh with his nail, nicking the skin.
"You only want to think about me?"
Your phone hummed with a notification. Taehyung chuckled, fingers creeping closer and closer.
"Aw, I wonder who that is? But that's too bad, because you're all mine right now."
You gasped, clutching his open shirt as his fingers slid in, two because you were already wet, shallow breathing and lidded eyes telling him enough, taking your lips with his, pace slow and steady and maddening, spreading your legs with his knees, forcing you to tip your hips up to him in an embarrassing position.
Then again, embarrassment during sex wasn't part of your vocabulary.
You pushed his black shirt down one shoulder and reached in, your fingers snaking to the hem of the white undershirt and stroking his skin, his satisfied exhale hot against your neck, you remembering the way the water drenched the fabric and stuck it to his golden tan skin, playfully flexing his defined chest and biceps, adorable and arousing because Kim Taehyung was both. He separated his digits inside your pussy to create a loud, sharp, wet squelch. You heard him grin, smug at the dirty sound, then begin plunging his fingers in and out, in and out of the tightness, trying to be as noisy as possible. You clenched your core to make him work for it, force him to be rougher with you, his fingers curling in your hair, yanking firmly, lips on your ear.
"See, how can those boys you pick keep up with you, hm? They won't know what to do with your pretty, sexy self," he purred, faster, harder, pushing you to the edge with your heated moan and your hands all over his chest, lifting your hips to meet his touch. "You need us to take care of you, don't you?"
Fuck, the way Taehyung said your name.
Like it was a decadent sweet he was craving, a taste compared to no other.
Your head fell back into the pillows, breathing in his warm scent in shallow puffs, his name pouring out of your lips, yearning and desire.
"Mmmm, Taehyung...."
Melting you into it, sweet bliss and sharp jerks of your hips into his hand, gasping at the flood of euphoria, trying to squeeze your thighs around his hand and stopped by his open legs. Your throbbing pussy gripped his fingers and made him hiss, his devious smirk growing as you lowered your chin again to look into those dark eyes, shivering under his intense gaze.
“Let’s play a little game.”
His tongue slid out, lickings your lips lightly.
“It’s called, how many fingers can I stuff in you before you’re begging for my dick?”
“What kind of – oh, f-fuck!”
One more.
Aching tightness, clenching your jaw, trembling at the ease of it, Taehyung cocking an eyebrow.
“Ah, yeah, three’s too easy, huh? You already warmed up.”
One more.
“Fuck, Tae, fuck!”
His dark eyes glittering, pleased at your reaction.
“That’s better. That’s what I wanna hear.”
Whines in your throat as he picked up the pace, fast and hard, clutching his shirt and his side, your nails digging in, stretched out and stuffed with four, your eyes rolling back and one leg sliding up to hook around his waist, meeting each thrust, so deep, so full, so wet, loud and obvious and uncaring of who was listening – probably Jimin with a huge smirk on his face – panting Taehyung’s name over and over, feeling the strength in his hold and his grip in your hair, pulling lightly, shooting pricks of pain down your head to meet the oppressive pleasure brimming in your core, closer, closer.
“What do you want?” Taehyung growled, that deep voice dangerously low.
“Y-Your c-cock, p-please…” you managed to gasp out, chasing it, chasing the fullness and the depth.
“Can you take it? Can you take it like the good girl you are?”
“A-Ah, yes, please Tae, want it,” you moaned, your fingernails digging into his back, scratching down as your orgasm shattered through you, making your whole body shake and shiver from the intensity, him pulling out. Your moan turned into a hoarse whimper, squirming as he rubbed your clit with his slick fingers, spanking it and teasing it, rocketing you into peaks and valleys of cut-off ecstasy that drove you insane, clawing at his clothes, desperate for his body on yours.
“What’s your magic word?”
“Please.”
He grinned at you despaired tone.
“That’s it.”
It took no time at all, your shirt flung aside, Taehyung losing his clothes that were already half-off, hot body to hot body, heated kisses and rummaging in his nightstand drawer, groaning into his mouth as his cock slapped your thigh, hard and thick and ready, dripping pre-cum on you before he yanked you up on top of him, ripping open the condom.
“Work for it.”
Lacing your fingers in his, sliding down onto that impressive girth and gasping as it twitched inside you, rolling your hips down onto it, better than his fingers, bouncing on it with your tits following your rhythm, squeezing his hands. Taehyung liked this kind of intimacy, the kind where he was grinning like the devil under you but still holding your hands as you railed yourself with his dick, rough and hard with your own smug smile, a little erratic but somehow good that way.
He made you work for it and you were good at working for it.
You found a good rhythm and – ba dum tss – rode it, leaning forward to deepen the angle and make it last longer, pulsing around his length with your tight walls, control and power and endorphins, each smack adding to the lewd melody that mixed with heavy moans and shuddering gasps, bringing Taehyung on your rollercoaster, his hips rising, your name rumbling in his chest, blood thudding in your ears at the baritone depth.
“Yes, such a good girl, gonna make me cum, don’t you want me to cum for you?” he panted, fishing for the magic word, bouncing one of his dark brows, his long hair flared out on his pillows, high cheekbones and strong features no longer hidden by wayward strands.
Your tongue between your teeth, grinning wide.
“Yes, please.”
The right inflection of winded want, maybe a little mischievous, but Taehyung liked that, for there was no fun in someone who was too easy.
“Fuck, you’re so fucking sexy.”
He squeezed your hands and thrust his hips up fiercely, shock bolting from your core to your spine to your head, your head snapping back, gasp torn from your throat, flooding his crotch with your juices, overstimulated clit rubbing on the base of his cock and Taehyung was gone too, husky groan falling from his lips, slamming his hips up and locking his legs, shooting jerks of cum into the condom, aftershocks causing you to lose hold on your knees, moan pitching higher as you slipped down on his throbbing length, trapped on it because Taehyung wasn’t going to lower you until he was done, the head pulsing inside you, squeezed out by your shivering walls.
“T… Tae… the picture…”
“Ah… yeah… hold on… lay down for me…”
He wasn’t going to let you leave without his mark anyway.
“Serious?”
“Deadly.”
You laid back against the pillows, spent, holding your phone, Taehyung straddling your chest and stroking his slick cock, plops of cum and lube falling onto your chest, messy dark hair curling around his handsome face. You could see the purple-red head peek out from between his fingers, hear the steady slapping as he pumped it back to full hardness.
“Alright, let’s see.”
Your chest was rattling but you raised your phone, bringing up the picture as Taehyung gripped the base of his cock, lifting it up slightly to put it in position. You squinted at the screen, looking from the photo dick to the real one. Of course. He was definitely bigger, a little thicker, but strangely, the color was almost the same. Was that lightning or similar skin tone? Or perhaps men with really nice dicks just happened to have Taehyung’s tan complexion?
You wouldn’t question it if it was true.
“You’re bigger,” you sighed, tossing your phone aside.
Taehyung smirked proudly. “What a surprise.”
“We all knew that, even before I saw it.”
He chuckled, going back to fisting his cock. “That’s because Jimin has a big mouth and likes to spread rumors.”
“You like that he spends rumors.”
Taehyung shrugged, but his sly expression wouldn’t be hidden even as he shook his head to cover part of his face with his long brown hair, curtaining half of it with darkness, teasing and effortlessly sexy.
“Ready?”
“Mhm, do it.”
You raised yourself onto your elbows, smiling wide, watching his breathing shallow and his eyes close, losing himself in it, faster and tighter, the wetness audible, strong thighs shuddering at your sides. Then he sucked in a breath, hissing your name and tipping forward, painting viscous white strings onto your collarbones and tits, pushing his shuddering cock up and down to spread it out, your clavicle now sticky and covered in his strong scent.
Taehyung ticked his head, lips in a devil’s smile, chest heaving with exertion.
“Your cum necklace is extra pretty today. Take a selfie for me so I can jack off to your cute face later.”
-
jeon jungkook.
“Jungkook?”
Jeon Jungkook shrieked your name like you were Michael Myers and he was Jamie Lee Curtis, flinging himself onto his computer monitor and mashing the power button to turn it off, his long purple hair flying everywhere, brown orbs like saucers, entire body shaking so bad that even his eyebrow piercing was vibrating.
He froze like that.
You blinked at him from the doorframe of his rented studio room, one hand on the knob and the other holding up your phone like a kitchen knife.
His leather bomber jacket was hung over the back of his rolling chair. The chair was currently slowly sliding across the floor, away from him and his panic. Jungkook was wearing a sleeveless black shirt and loose black jeans.
For a guy scared shitless, his pants were pitching a very impressive tent.
Had he been watching porn?
“Er… I knocked…?” you said slowly, pointing to the door. “Do you not hear me?”
“Um, uh, n-no,” Jungkook sputtered, looking you up and down. “No, I d-didn’t.”
“I said I was coming by today. Via text?”
“Was that today?” he echoed hollowly like a ghost in a shell, the end of his question pitching to a higher octave. He coughed and cleared his throat. “Ah. Sorry. I think I f… forgot…” He was not looking at your face, instead staring at your thighs and your shorts, tight and tiny, shredded black denim paired with a loose, long-sleeved black top that read in bold, white, graphic, letters...
REALITY SUCKS.
You pointed to the turned-off monitor.
"Were you watching porn?" you asked cheerfully.
Jungkook's ears turned red.
"Yes," he blurted.
Silence.
A bird cawed outside.
You nodded, closing the door. You tilted your head and locked it, just in case, before waltzing into Jungkook's film studio space, bouncing on the heels of your large black sneakers. "If you're gonna watch porn, you should lock the door. What were you watching? Is it lesbian porn again? Can I–?"
You reached over to turn the screen back on and Jungkook's tattooed hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, yanking you away from it and to him. You blinked rapidly, confused at his tight grip.
"N-No, you can't see. You can't," he sputtered, pinning you against his hard body.
You frowned, annoyed. "Why not? I like porn." You squirmed against him, but he sandwiched you between his forearms, forcing you to look up and face him, thinning your mouth into a line. He gulped, eyes shifting, holding your body against his. His lower lip trembled, mole underneath bouncing with his uncertainty.
"I... It wasn't porn..."
You stopped struggling, confused. "Huh?"
Those dark chocolate eyes found yours, looking guilty.
"I was looking at your pictures."
You blinked rapidly. "What?"
"You know... the ones I take of you sometimes... You said it was okay..."
Ah, yes. Jungkook liked to take pictures of you. He had mumbled that it was because he needed practice and, later in bed, he admitted it was because he considered you his muse, an inspiration of sorts, so would it be okay if, maybe, you just turned a little and laid in his covers just like... like that, yeah, could he take maybe one photo?
"Sure, knock yourself out, dude."
A bit later, far too late, you had realized that had been maybe too chill of a response, but Jungkook seemed to prefer that and he acted less awkward about it every other time he asked to take a picture. They weren't usually dirty pictures. Although you were naked in some of them, they weren't quite inappropriate, every single one framed with delicate, well-thought-out composition. You always sighed and told him he made you look better than you actually were.
Jungkook always insisted you were consistently beautiful.
You pointed between your bodies.
"Were you gonna get off to them or something?" you cheerily inquired, bumping against his pitched denim tent.
"N-No!"
His ears turned scarlet and he jerked sideways, but you held onto him, hands firmly on his hips, not letting him twist away. He quickly covered his ears and pouted at you.
"I was... I just missed you."
You smiled, squeezing his ass. "I missed you too, Jungkook."
Your tone was soft, gentle. He stilled and lowered his hands, lips parting at your words, slightly surprised, incredibly adorable.
His dick twitched in his pants and jabbed your crotch.
A pause.
Jungkook's eyes shifted to the side, mumbling under his breath. "And, yeah, okay, I got horny, but that's only because it's you..."
"That's great, since I definitely wanted to look at your dick as soon as possible!"
His eyes went wide.
You smiled widely.
Then he said something unexpected.
"Ow."
You looked down and backed up as Jungkook frowned and reached down to shift his rock-hard length in his pants, sighing in relief.
"Zipper was killing me..." he grumbled, running a hand through his purple hair.
"We should just take it off then."
"Pardon, we should wha–ah!"
You grabbed fistfuls of his black top and yanked it up and over his head, causing Jungkook to sputter in confusion, throwing his hands up as you unsheathed his muscular torso, leaning in, breathing on his skin, leaving him to untangle himself as your lips closed onto his dark nipple, tongue teasing the small nub.
"Ah, fuck!"
You lifted your lips, tongue still extended, looking up to see him flinging the shirt aside, his long purple hair messy and wild, tattooed arm and un-inked arm lifting, pushing his hair away from his face, his chest rising to your wet muscle, gasping. You had a clear view of that cute little mole under his lower lip, trembling with pleasure before Jungkook looked down at you, hazy chocolate orbs fanned by black lashes, breathing hard.
You ticked an eyebrow, licking slow circles, lips closing in again, sucking daintily.
He bit his lip and let it slowly tease out while you simultaneously teased him, your name leaving his lips in a low moan. You danced your fingertips up his thigh, nail tracing the seams of his jeans, kissing across his chest, his eyes following you, hips rocking into your touch, following your pace, letting you command it. His head tipped back as you kissed down his abs, whimpering with want, curling his fingers into fists.
Jungkook always made you feel like you were touching him for the first time.
"You're not a virgin?"
"No?" Jungkook had repeated after the first time you had fucked him, sounding confused. "I'm just like this? Is that bad?"
"W... well... no, and now that I think about it, you were suspiciously good..."
"You didn't like it?"
You had turned to look at him and, fuck, the way he looked at you, so cute and innocent, uh oh, and then the slightest hint of an open-mouthed smirk dancing on those shapely pink lips, reminding you of someone else.
"Namjoon-hyung said that's what you were into. Is he wrong?"
Voice so deep and so smooth, gliding over you like butter.
You almost hastily defended yourself but one look into those roguish, yet genuine, chocolate eyes and you couldn't lie.
"But... you should enjoy yourself too..."
Jungkook had grinned, endearing and heart-thuddingly handsome. "I do. I told you, this is how I am. You're just my type."
"And what's that?'"
He had pinned you back onto the bed, leaning in.
"Hot and horny."
Turns out.
Seemed to be a running theme with all eight of you.
Right now, his pants were falling and you were sliding up as your hand was sliding down, shushing him quietly, your other hand dancing up his neck and pulling his head down.
"Someone's gonna hear you," you whispered to his open lips, tone and touch implying you didn't give a shit who was listening, wrapping your fingers around his stiff cock the second he pushed his black boxer briefs down, his shivering moan tickling your cheek. His right hand came up to cradle your head and lean it against his, begging whines for you to move, pairing it with an irresistible, husky hiss of your name.
"Please..."
He liked it tight and he liked it rough, liked the way you could lock your fingers and keep that nearly suffocating pace, closing his eyes with a flutter and moaning into your skin, curtaining you with purple, his grip in your hair tightening as you built that speed, filling the rented studio with his silvery, erotic cries.
"Someone out there is going to think you're watching porn," you teased, nudging him with your nose, looping a finger back to smear the pre-cum over the swollen head. He bucked his hips into your hold, lips pressed to your cheek, intoxicated groan warming your skin.
"Kiss me and breathe into my mouth..."
You couldn't say no, not with his voice so soft and pleading like that, not with that edge of nervousness. Fuck, the way Jungkook succumbed to your kiss, uncontrollable tremors taking over his shoulders, hot taut skin twitching in your palm indicating he was close, and you almost broke away to say that he shouldn't cum like this, it'll be messy and get on the floor, but he grabbed your face and didn't let you go, whimpering in his throat, wordlessly telling you to do it, exhale into his throat and he groaned in his chest, long, drawn-out, consumed by lust, and maybe it was bad, but you loved it, loved the way he wanted it so bad, wanted you to push the air out of his lungs and suffocate his pulsating cock with your grip, pre-cum leaking between your fingers, finally pulling back and gasping, his lashes fluttering helplessly.
"G-Gonna cum, f-fuck!"
You had to think fast, looking down for a moment and feeling his cock jerk in your hand, swiftly switching to cupping the dark red head, thick white cum suddenly spurting your palm, Jungkook burying his face into your hair to muffle his wail, your scalp hot with his released exhale and your hand covered in his heated release.
You breathed in, smirking at the scent of dirty gratification.
"Jungkook..."
He whined softly, hips quivering as you covered his jerking length with your cum-covered hand, spreading it all over and getting him hard again.
"There's this picture..."
"Mmm, yeah, the h-hyungs told me... don't stop..."
You swung your hips from side to side, free hand running down his chest, your eyes roaming his toned body, his tattooed arm still hovering over your head, long fingers tangled in your hair still, squatting down and opening your mouth, tongue dancing out and licking your hand and the side of his purple-red length, wet sloppy kisses, slurping up his cum and moaning on the throbbing head, making sure that he could feel the sinful heat.
"Give me... oooh, fuck, give me your phone..."
Your hand left his abs reluctantly, tugging your phone out of your ass pocket and holding it up for him as your mouth closed around his cock, swallowing it all, eyes closing, cramming all of him until the head hit your inner throat and your lips pressed against his crotch, knees on the tile floor, thighs spread, hands poised in the air, unable to breathe.
Click.
You cracked open one eye to see Jungkook holding your phone above your head, teasing smirk on his shapely lips, mole winking at you.
“For me?” he asked, not quite innocent.
It was the first time Jungkook had taken an actual dirty picture.
You shrugged as if to say, sure, pulling back as he turned the phone around, the dick in question on the screen. You eased off his length, licking it clean, bringing up your wet hand covered in his cum, popping your lips off the engorged tip and sliding your fingers in your wet lips, tongue wriggling between your fingers, inspecting the two dicks. Jungkook was still hard – so hard that his cock was sticking straight out, almost mimicking the photo. You had to crouch a little more, tilting your head and placing your fingertips on his balls, raising his dick a little on the back of your hand, smearing saliva and pre-cum on your skin.
Yon continued to lick, grazing the underside of his length with your tongue and then pulling back, eyes going from the photo to the real thing.
Jungkook moaned above you, clutching your phone tightly, knuckles white under black tattoos.
Hm.
You tilted your head.
One way.
Then the other.
Hmmm?
Hmmmmmmm.
“W… What?” Jungkook stuttered above you.
You pursed your lips at the tip of his cock, swiping your tongue over it and sucking off the pre-cum. He gasped, hips shaking, threatening to shove it into your lips.
“It doesn’t look like your dick at all.”
“What?” He sounded startled.
You pointed with your dry hand. “The shape is a little off, you’re longer and slightly bigger, and the color is different.” You sighed, whooshing hot air over his soaked, taut skin, Jungkook whimpering. You squinted slightly.
“Still…”
You tapped your lips with his cock, thinking.
“I think he wears the same underwear brand as you.”
“He does?” Jungkook squeaked, spinning the phone around and blinking at it.
You shrugged. “And for some reason, the position of his hips reminds me of you. I don’t know why…”
He chewed his lower lip, staring at the phone.
“Oh well.”
You stood up abruptly at your words and plucked the phone out of his hand, putting it on his desk.
“If it’s not you, it’s not you. Let’s fuck.”
Jungkook yelped as you grabbed the bottom of your shirt and began stripping off your clothes.
That was his reaction that one time you lost strip poker to Kim Seokjin and him at that one party, not that your cared because you didn’t bother learning the rules. You had other priorities and they involved getting mostly naked and then pinning Seokjin down to make out with him as Jungkook gawked at the other side of the table, half-clothed, clutching his cards.
“I can… go…?” he had sputtered.
You surfaced from Seokjin’s plush lips, his hands around your bare waist, the taller man gasping for air, reeling from your kiss.
“I still have one more piece of clothing to go, Jungkook.”
Side of your lower lip between your teeth, cocking an eyebrow, swaying your panty-covered ass at those huge brown eyes.
“You can help, you know.”
Fun night.
His eyes were huge now too, your back against the wall and him rolling the condom down, lifting your leg and sliding into you, gasping at your tightness, leaning down to kiss you again, greedy and ravenous, his hips jerking upwards, forcing you on tiptoe. Your hands were on his shoulders, nails digging into that soft skin and strong muscle.
“F-Fuck me, Jungkook, mmm, fuck, yes…”
You didn’t really get to talk during that strip poker night because your mouth was full of Seokjin’s dick as Jungkook’s pounded you from behind, but it would be a crime to complain about such things.
You met your hips to his to deepen his thrust, enjoying his strength, powerful and steady, fucking you against the wall, wet slaps and soft moans filling the room between harsh kisses, lips swelling from the fervor, your ass even rhythmically smacking into the wall, but neither of you cared, your leg around his slim waist and his right arm wrapped around it, his fingers digging into your thigh, black tattoos and tan skin gleaming from sweat, his other hand clutching a fistful of your ass and ramming your drenched pussy down on his stiff cock, grinning at your soft cry of his name, staring into his eyes and not looking away, spellbound by chocolate orbs framed by wispy strands of purple.
“You always feel so fucking good…”
You pulsed around him, feeding the fire, wanton exhales mixing, dick pic forgotten.
-
“Hah…”
You rolled over, sighing loudly.
“Haaaaaaah…”
“You still fixated on that dick?” a deep, unimpressed voice said next to you.
You frowned and planted your phone with the inspirational dick on your face, praying for it to come to life and choke you.
“I never found out who it was…” you mumbled.
“Well, it is Saturday night. We can go crash a party and maybe you can find that dick!” exclaimed a joyful voice, poking your side. Your phone slid off your face and clattered to the floor. A cheerful hand covered in colorful clay rings waved at you and your gaze shifted to Jung Hoseok and his blond and pink hair. He was too cute and you were unable to help yourself as you looked at him, matching his heart-shaped smile.
“Nah,” you tutted. “If it’s not one of you guys… the dick isn’t worth it.”
You closed your eyes and sighed again, long and with longing.
“If it makes you feel better, we don’t know who it is either.”
You laughed hearing Kim Namjoon’s deep, serious voice. “How would you guys find out?”
“I know a lot of things,” Park Jimin’s angelic, light voice chirped.
“Too many things,” Kim Taehyung’s baritone voice remarked coolly.
“Are you gonna eat that slice of pizza, Jungkook?”
“Yeah, hyung, I am, no, stop–”
“Give Seokjinnie-hyung a bite!”
“Over my dead body!”
“Then you’re dead to me, boy! Respect your elders!”
You heard some slapping and flailing about, but didn’t open your eyes.
“He’s probably not a virgin anyway. Virgins don’t snap pics like that on strangers’ phones.”
You cracked an eye open and narrowed it at the form laying on the ground beside you. Min Yoongi was messing with his phone. His head was on a huge pillow that he wasn’t sharing. He seemed to notice your glare and turned his head to raise a lazy eyebrow at you, cat-like eyes shrouded by black hair.
“Isn’t that what you’re into?” he taunted.
Your eye twitched.
You growled, sitting up. “I’m not into virgins, damnnit! I just like listening to people who are knowledgeable about their interests, like how Namjoon goes on about human philosophy, and how Seokjin never shuts up about MapleStory, and like how you talk about music theory. Just because I don’t understand right away doesn’t mean I don’t try,” you snapped, prodding Yoongi’s firm pecs through his t-shirt. He didn’t move, completely unbothered as you continued your tirade. “I don’t know anything about TikTok, but I like listening to Hoseok talk about the latest dance and fashion trends. Jimin’s the only reason I don’t make an ass of myself at parties because he knows everything about everyone so I don’t accidentally sit in a taken person’s lap and cause trouble. Taehyung’s always following that animal rescue Instagram and giving me cool facts about all these different creatures. Jungkook can go on for hours about cameras. I still don’t think I even know how to work the aperture function on DSLRs, but as long as he will continue to explain, I’ll listen.”
You sucked in a deep breath and seethed.
“So what’s the difference?”
“What?” you scowled.
Yoongi shrugged casually.
“Why do you keep chasing dorks with glasses struggling to get stupid graduate degrees when the people you spend the most time with are here with you right now, ready to fuck you at any time?”
“That’s–”
Your words died in your throat, Yoongi’s words finally sinking in.
Silence.
“Hyung, I’m struggling to get a grad degree…” Namjoon cut in, but the black-haired man on the floor lifted a finger and sliced the air, quieting him instantly. Yoongi was watching you carefully, head tilting at your frozen state. Your brain seemed to have ceased function. His lips curved into a slow, open-mouthed smirk.
Yoongi dropped the bomb on you.
“Didn’t you think it was a bit suspicious that the dick had elements from all of ours, but never quite matched up?”
W… What?
Your head whipped to your fallen phone and you scrambled with it, bringing up the dick pic again. The photo showed up at the party with the wet t-shirt contest. Your phone has disappeared for two hours during said party. Everyone was drunk. No. Everyone had gotten drunk after your phone had mysteriously been found and returned to you. You spent the night in various laps doing various naughty things, not bothering to check your phone after retrieving it, leaving it as a later you problem. You filed through your memories, recalling their faces as you showed each and every one of them the photo.
Hold on.
“Didn’t you think it was a bit weird, almost as if…”
They weren’t as weirded out as one might be, seeing some random dick on your phone.
As if…
“As if one of us is good at photo manipulation, perhaps,” Yoongi purred.
As if they had expected to see such a photo.
Click.
You whipped your head to the left and a whirlwind of dark purple hair went flying under the coffee table, hiding behind broad shoulders, chestnut brown hair, and full lips forming an ‘o’. At the same time, the realization hit you like a falling piano from the sky.
“Did you all…” you choked, mechanically jerking from face to face, Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, and lastly, back at Seokjin because Jungkook was cowering behind him, large brown doe eyes behind a massive shoulder. “D-Did you all…?”
No way.
“Did you all take a dick pic and Photoshop them together into one superdick photo and PLANT IT ON MY PHONE?!”
One look at those seven faces and…
YUP.
Taehyung laughed, loud and rich, nudging Namjoon with his elbow. “Told you she wouldn’t check the details of the photo and realize it was from an outside source.”
You started and swiped around. The file name was close enough to your camera photos’ file names, but upon closer inspection…
“Oh my God…”
“She’s very easily distracted by dick,” Hoseok chuckled, infectious grin on his face.
“I am not!”
“Wanna bet?”
“Jimin, do not whip out your dick.”
You heard your name being called softly and looked up, clutching your phone, still stunned and flabbergasted that you had been lusting after a fake dick that was a fuckin’ Megazord of the seven dicks currently surrounding you and those seven were the very dicks that tricked you!
On purpose!
For what?
FOR FUN!
(GG, no re)
They got you good.
Your irritation immediately dissipated when your eyes found those anxious chocolate ones, long purple strands curling around his cheek, curious open mouth with the small mole underneath barely visible.
“Are you mad?” Jungkook asked quietly, pink lips curving into an irresistible pout.
Oh.
Shit.
Before you could quickly say, no, of course not, Jungkook, it was funny, I’m not mad at all, you felt a dark presence by your shoulder, raspy chuckle by your ear, sending shivers down your spine, whispering your name, devious and smokey.
“Whose idea do you think it was?” Yoongi murmured.
You stared into chocolate eyes.
Innocent.
Or…?
Jungkook’s pout disappeared.
His dark eyebrow cocked, mischievous smirk gracing those irresistible lips. No, not just him. Lowered lids and midnight blue hair, smug expression with a dimple. Kim Namjoon. Lifted chin, looking down at you with a sheepish yet wicked smile on full lips. Kim Seokjin. The black head of hair leaning his chin on your shoulder, laugh like a seductive purr. Min Yoongi. Tilted head balanced on long fingers decorated with colorful rings and bracelets, sly heart-shaped smile. Jung Hoseok. Shit-eating grin fanned by red hair, bouncing a perfectly manicured eyebrow. Park Jimin. Long dark brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, spare strands framing a moody, handsome face with a glint of playful cunning. Kim Taehyung.
And then, Jeon Jungkook.
“The hyungs thought it was a great idea,” he drawled, silvery and sweet, looking extremely pleased with himself, running his tattooed hand through his purple hair, unquestionably guilty, but despairingly angelic in appearance.
These fucking…. Seven Kings of Duality!
You were positively fuming.
Silence.
An owl hooted outside the window.
“YOU PUNKS!”
You threw yourself over the coffee table and horny chaos ensued.
-
2021.09.01 - JK birthday drabble 2021.10.02 - Namjoon birthday drabble
--
masterpost
#bts x reader#jungkook x reader#bts smut#bts x you#jungkook smut#yoongi x reader#yoongi smut#taehyung x reader#kim taehyung smut#jimin x reader#park jimin smut#hoseok x reader#seokjin x reader#namjoon x reader#hoseok smut#seokjin smut#namjoon smut
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Just Friends
SUMMARY: Sam asks the group who they think are the “hottest” members of the team. You don’t make the cute for Bucky’s top five.
Bucky x TALL!Reader
W/C: 5,800
WARNINGS: angst, swearing (like two f bombs), cannon level violence, Bucky being an idiot (it’s a warning), physical insecurities, fake science
A/N: I wrote this because the top 5 situation actually happened to me IRL and when you don’t make someone you like’s list, it sucks. Also, this is in no way meant as being against people who are smaller! I am just a tall/plus size woman and sometimes that really makes you feel like you’re unattractive to people because you don’t fit the gender norm. Let me know what you think! I’m pretty new at this so I’d appreciate the feedback!
Also, HUGE shout out to @princessmisery666 for being so patient and supportive! Thank you for being my beta! Your comments were so incredibly helpful!
The best part about working with Bucky was that you got to see him everyday. The worst part was that you were constantly reminded that he wasn’t attracted to you.
You knew you were a good looking woman, people would often tell you that. It usually happened when you weren’t necessarily feeling your prettiest. Somehow that made it worse. Others would compliment you but he never would. Even when you knew you looked good- like you had put in extra effort and actually tried that day- still he would give you nothing.
You sat across from him in the common room looking at all the other Avengers wondering why he didn’t feel the same when you finally got your answer.
“Alright man,” Sam called out to the group. “Top five, let’s go.”
“Top five?” asked Clint, not sure if he wanted to know the answer. “Top five what?”
Everyone looked back to Sam, - “Top five on who you think is lookin’ most fine”.
“You want us to rate each other?” You asked incredulously.
“Naw, man!” Sam replied. “I want to know who you think are the top five most attractive! Male and female!”
You slunk back into the sofa, both curious and terrified of the conversation to come.
You heard huffs from the others but no one objected. Vision went first and of course he could only answer with; “I believe all of you are inherently lovely. I couldn’t possibly pick a top five of those who I find to be most attractive.” As soon as he finished and the room was no longer focused on him though he leaned over to Wanda and said something in her ear that made her blush.
You brought your cup up to your lips to hide your smile. You loved how happy they were after having been through so much heartbreak.
Sam went next, “Imma say, Wanda, Nat, Gamora’s got it goin’ on…for an alien…Hill - don’t tell her I said that- and…Y/N,” he said throwing you a wink.
You smiled but shook your head with a roll of your eyes. You knew the only reason he said your name was because you were in the room. He was trying to be kind. Men didn’t seem to be actively lining up to be with you…it might have something to do with them being intimidated by you being an Avenger but who could possibly know
“Sam you would think anything with legs that gave you the time of day was hot,” Bucky shot.
The others laughed but Sam shot back, “alright, Tin Man, who’s on your list? Okoye?”
“Yeah for one! I would be dead before I could make a move but sure! She’s dangerous and stunning!” He took a swig of bourbon as if he was done.
“Alright then who else?” Wanda leaned forward winking at you.
You shot her a warning look. You had only told her how you felt about Bucky once on a drunken night after finding out he had gone on date with another recruit. Jealousy had reared its ugly head and she could feel your angst that night. You had asked Wanda how; “A tiny little thing that would barely hold her own in the ring,” could possibly catch his eye. It was as if the only thing he saw you as was an ear to listen to his problems and a soldier he could rely on in the field. You had seen them together multiple times since then and every time it pained you more.
She was everything you weren’t. Barely five foot, two inches tall with a skinny frame to match, and a nicely formed backside. In reality you couldn’t be mad at Bucky. He deserved to be happy. He was your friend and you wanted that for him. You just wanted that particular happiness too.
“Okay, okay!” Bucky’s hands came up in surrender as he finished his drink and leaned back to think, He sat so close to you his left bicep of his folded arms brushed yours with every breath he took.“Okoye? Sure…uh… in no particular order…Wanda, Nat, Darcy, and the little woman, Kris, from reception.”
“It seems, Mr. Barnes”, said Vision, “that you prefer mates who are significantly smaller than you. I do believe that of that group, Wanda is the tallest one.”
“Which isn’t really saying much because I’m only five, six”, she complained.
“The perfect height my dear.” Wanda smiled at that and kissed Vision’s cheek .
You took another long sip of your drink as you registered what had been said. Your stomach soured as you finished the glass. Not so much from the alcohol as from the realization that the man who you had secretly been pinning over didn’t even list you as attractive enough to make his top five.
You felt like you knew why. It was just too much. You weren’t small and dainty like those on his list. You had big bones and a can do attitude. You wouldn’t take crap from people. And because you were so tall you could come off as intimidating…or so some men had told you.
“I’m going to get another drink,” You whispered to no one in particular.
But Sam really couldn’t read a room and he called you out. “No, no! Who’s on your list Y/N?”
“Oh no!” You said dryly. “I’d have to be much drunker for that conversation. For now, I'll keep my opinions to myself.”
You spotted Bucky’s surprised face before you made your way over to the bar. The conversation carried on behind you as you refilled your glass. Thoughts of Bucky’s revelation clouding your mind. You were never going to be good enough for him because you were just too big. Too tall. Too much. He liked the smallest, most petite women in the compound. Feeling your emotions swelling,you decided to grab the bottle and made your way quietly out of the room while the ruckus continued.
Once on your floor you closed the door behind you with a forceful slam, “FRIDAY!! Lock the door and don’t open it for anyone!!”
“Yes, Miss Y/L/N.”
The rest of the night was spent on the floor in your sweats drinking from your bottle of whiskey and feeling sorry for yourself and all the things you couldn’t be because of biology.
You weren’t sure if it was a drunken stupor or your imagination but at one point you could have sworn you heard a knock only for it to go away just as quickly.
…
The next day you had an awful hangover and didn’t get out of bed. Bucky came to your door for your normal morning run.
“Tell him I’m not going, Friday.”
“He would like to know why, Miss.”
“Tell him it’s my time of the month.”
“Your time of the month was last week, Miss.”
“Who’s side are you on, Friday? Just tell him I’m sick.”
“Very well, Miss.”
It was silent for a few moments and you had thought that would be enough to get Bucky off your back for now.
“Mr. Barnes would like to know if you’d like to see Dr. Cho, Miss.”
“Uuuugggghhhh,” you rolled out of bed and marched over, irritated that the one person you didn’t want to see was at your door.Pulling it open with a huff you practically screamed. “What?!?”
“Woah!” Bucky jumped back startled at your disheveled appearance and puffy eyes. “I just want to make sure you’re alright, doll. You didn’t come back last night and you never answered the door when I came to check on you.”
So there was a knock last night.
You couldn’t look him in the eye as your eyes filled with tears again, this time with shame. “I’m fine, Bucky.” You started shutting the door quickly and he stuck his hand on it preventing you from closing it again.
“Y/N…what’s…”
“Bucky, I just need some rest okay?” You cut him off, “I’m fine. I promise I’ll be right as rain tomorrow.” You smiled weakly.
Bucky searched your face as if trying to find what you weren’t telling him in your eyes. But you were an Avenger and you knew how to school your features to show nothing.
Bucky sighed and shook his head, “alright, doll. I’m here if you want to talk about anything.”
“Yes, fine,” you said pushing him out the door. Your eyes had flooded with tears again. You didn’t look up to see Bucky’s hurt and concerned face as you closed the door again and put your back to it.
You held your breath listening for his footsteps to retreat before sinking to the floor and crying.
…
The next day was an all out avoid Bucky day. You weren’t sure you could take the questions and worried looks he was sure to give you. Instead, you decided that what you needed was time away from such temptation. And so, you went in to ask Steve for an overseas long assignment.
“You sure about this one, Y/N. It’s a 9 month solo mission. It’s going to be long and it’s going to be lonely.”
“Yes. I’m sure. I need some time to myself.”
Steve looked at you with understanding and pity. He could see how you felt about Bucky even if he couldn’t get his best friend to see it as well.
“Alright,” he said, “suit up. You leave in 2 hours.”
South Africa wasn’t the worst assignment. It wouldn’t take long for you to get the information you needed. And the separation from Bucky would be good for you.
You finished checking your last weapon and loaded it as well as a pair of throwing knives, a gift from Bucky, into your duffle before looking around your room one more time.
You headed to the door and almost made it out until the picture of you and Bucky on your dresser made you stop. Picking it up you smiled at the memory of the minor league baseball game you’d attended together. You had won tickets and no one else was available that night. When you’d offered the tickets to Bucky you couldn’t believe that he said yes! It was the true start of your friendship, talking about life and how much it had changed for him but also how little it had changed for you. He couldn’t believe it when you started singing all the words to “I’ll never smile again”.
“You think I don’t know music? I’m quite cultured, Mr. Barnes!” You had said with a laugh.
“I never said you weren’t, sweetheart!”
Coming back out of your revelry with a start you put the picture back down on the dresser and turned to the door. You were going to get over this infatuation, even if it killed you. Supposedly time heals all wounds. Well you weren’t sure if there was ever going to be enough time but you could get distance.
…
Hours later Bucky came in to tell you about the relationship problems he was having with the girl from reception. She just didn’t seem to understand him and kept picking fights. You had become his confidant and had saved his relationship once before so would most likely be able to do it again.
He was almost to your room when he noticed your door was ajar. Slowing he moved closer and pushed it in silently. The room was neat and quiet. Your bed folded nicely as though it was always that way.
Bucky knew that you never made your bed until you were right about to get in it. Or unless you were going on a trip.
Checking carefully he started to notice things missing. Your favorite slippers were gone. Your tooth brush and favorite stuffed animal turtle were also missing. All of the things that you felt you had to have with you were gone.
Then he saw the picture frame on the dresser. Picking it up he too smiled at the memory, then frowned. It was still here. You almost always took this with you. Why was it still here but everything else you held of value was gone.
“Friday, where is Y/N?”
“Miss Y/L/N has volunteered for a mission, sir.”
“Where?”
“That information is classified.”
“Okay, when will she be back?”
“That information is classified.”
“Alright, who else went on the mission,” he asked hoping whoever it was would have your back.
“All other Avengers are currently in the compound.”
“So she went by herself?” Bucky fumed.
“That information is classified.”
“Damn robots!”
Bucky stormed out and found Steve in the kitchen.
“Where did you send her, punk!
Steve didn’t even look up from his newspaper, knowing exactly what his best friend was talking about.
“She’ll be fine, Buck. She just needs some time to herself.”
“So send her to Fiji! Not a solo mission!!”
“This is her call Bucky. You’ve got to trust her.”
Bucky spun on his heel and headed to the computer lab. He knew he was being irrational but if no one else was going to look after your well-being then he was going to have to do it himself.
It took him all day but he finally unencrypted the files for your mission. You were to carry out a recon mission in Port Elizabeth on a supposed Hydra base. It was a far cry from Fiji but you wouldn’t be in immediate danger.
Still he came in everyday to check in on your reports and find out how the events in the country were progressing. He had even convinced Torres to help him set up notifications to his phone if something were to go wrong. He had, very nicely, threatened him with knives if he didn’t set up Stark’s satellite to keep an eye on you.
After three weeks he was really starting to miss your company. Every time he went out with Kris from reception he realized that she just wasn’t as interesting as you. They didn’t have the same camaraderie and chemistry as the two of you did.
So when his phone dinged at 2:30am he looked at the notification. It was a satellite image of you on your apartment porch drinking coffee. You seemed at ease and calm at your small table. Your hair down and wearing a long red dress. He went to the live feed of the satellite but when he did you weren’t there.
Bucky refreshed the page again thinking it may be just an error. But his rising heartbeat made him think differently. When the screen came back he noticed the upturned coffee mug and the newspapers on the ground.
Bucky flew from his bed and raced down the hall to the command room. Steve and Tony were already there, still in their pajamas.
“…it’s not as if she has a tracker in her, Stark!”
“Well maybe she should! Maybe we should make it a standard issue! Everyone gets a tracker! Friday! Make a note!”
“Yes sir.” replied the AI.
“Tony, we need to focus on the…”
“Where is she?!” Bucky growled.
Both men turned around in surprise. Steve recovered first, his eyes sympathetic for his friend’s worry. “We’re not sure, Buck. These images were only taken 4 hours ago.” He clicked to zoom in closer, “but we did get this.”
He zoomed all the way into the kitchen window behind where you’d sat drinking coffee, where a face reflected in the glass. Bucky looked on in rage, hands in tight fists, as the image became clearer and Zemo came into focus.
…
You awoke with a start, unaware of your surroundings. You sat on a bed in a bare room with a single one way mirror. A metal chair sat by the wall and you noticed no handle on the door. Trying to piece together what had happened you recalled your last memory.
A beautiful morning, the sun shining on the water, a freshly brewed cup of coffee. You sat in your apartment in Port Elizabeth, a pain in your neck…
“Zemo,” you whispered.
“Ah, you’re awake,” said the speaker above you. “I’m sorry about the dramatics but it was necessary. You’re a very important piece of the puzzle.”
“Let me guess,” you said as you rolled your eyes. “You don’t like the way the world is being saved by the Avengers and you think you could do better.”
“Actually I want something else, мой дорогой. I need you.”
“What?” you cried befuddled. “Why on earth would you need me?”
“Do you know what TX-39 is?”
“Yes, I have an entire codex of arbitrary numbers logged away in my brain,” you retorted.
Zemo didn’t pause at your sarcasm. “TX-39 is the compound used to create nucleotides that bond onto nerve endings. By doing so they suspend brain signals stopping all neuro function and rendering the subject immoble. Something you have experienced first hand. By combining a nanotech inhibitor with this nerve ending your subject’s direct motor function is now open to...suggestions.”
You sat astounded as you registered what he had told you. You looked down at your hands but you didn’t feel different. There was no way something like this could work.
“What better way to get rid of a super soldier than to create your own?” Zemo said. You felt a slight buzz in your spine as you stood up quickly trying to resist. Running to the mirror you pulled back your arm, ready to punch your way out, but an inch from the glass your arm stopped. “Ironic that the Soldat will come to save you, only to be the one who needs to be saved.” With that you felt the electricity in your spine disappear and your body was your own again.
Frustration built within you as you sat back on the bed for a moment processing his statement. Your face became more and more incredulous until finally you burst out laughing. You continued laughing harder and harder at the absurdity of Zemo’s reasoning.
“You think I’m the one he is going to come after,” you laughed. “You think you picked the right mouse for your trap? You’re going to wait a long time if you think he’s going to come and get me.”
During your first few weeks away you had missed Bucky fiercely. Leaving him behind so abruptly had felt like severing a part of yourself, but the last few weeks had been good for you. You had forgotten what it was like to rely on yourself. You had grown into yourself again and had realized how little Bucky had actually cared for you when he never came to find you. He hadn’t so much as picked up the phone after you had left. It was as if you had never existed in the first place.
“Bucky doesn’t care about me,” you said sardonically. “He never has. We are barely even friends.You picked the wrong mouse, Zemo. ”
“We’ll see, дорогой,” and with a click he was gone.
Your brain shifted in and out of the conversation with Zemo. Looking down at your hands, you prayed it wasn’t true. You knew that what had happened at the window was real but you didn’t want to believe it. You had been turned into a weapon to hurt your friends. To hurt Bucky.
Crossing your arms over your chest you laid down on the bed, rolled over to face the wall, and cried.
…
Avengers Compound
“There is a five mile radius around Agent Y/L/N last known location,” said Fury. “Two man teams will sweep the area in a grid formation while the drones scan for energy signatures. Any questions?”
All those around the table sat silent, but nodded confirmation of their understanding of the objective. Fury looked around the room, “This mother fucker took one of ours and I wanna know why. Let’s get going.”
Bucky stood up from the table and made his way out of the room to the Quinjet hangar. Steve pulled on his arm before entering the plane. “I know what’s going through your mind right now Buck, but we are going to get her back”.
Bucky looked at the ground before raising his eyes to his friend. “He knew how to get to me, Steve. He always knows where to hurt me. He couldn’t use you. You’re too difficult to overpower. So he had to pick her. I just,” Bucky wasn’t sure how to finish his thought. Words never came easily to him and he wasn’t sure he could really express what he was feeling. “I just want her safe.”
After you had left Bucky felt hollow inside. He hadn’t realized how much joy you brought to his day with your smiles and jokes. Always knowing what to say, or at least, what he needed to hear. Your departure made him realize he needed you. Boarding the jet Bucky knew that no matter what happened he was going to tell you how he felt.
…
The team had been sweeping through the city for what felt like hours and there still hadn’t been any developments. Walking through another alleyway Bucky scanned the cobblestone streets. He was beginning to lose hope at ever finding you at all when he saw an uneven line in between two buildings.
Pressing his comm link he called out, “Steve, I’ve got something. I’m going to check it out.”
“Bucky, wait for backup. We’ll come to you.”
Feeling along the wall Bucky felt a draft between the cracks. Unholstering the gun at his hip he pushed against the wall feeling it give way.
“I’m going in. Follow my location.”
“Bucky, wait!” Steve called.
Bucky ignored his calls and continued down the dimly lit hall. The walls opened up to a staircase leading down to a command room. The musky scent of decay and scotch filled Bucky’s nostrils.
“Privet, Soldat,” Zemo called from the darkness.
Bucky whirled around to find nothing.
“Have you come for your little mouse?”
Still searching, Bucky said nothing as the sound came from a different corner of the room.
“Have you realized how much you miss her?”
Bucky circled again, coming up to a window.
“I wonder what it is? Is it her sweetness that draws you? Or her willingness to see you for more than the killer you are?”
Bucky frowned. Zemo was playing with him.
“Or have you realized that her fire is what draws you to her? She does have a talented tongue. I’ve seen her put it to good use,” Zemo provoked. “I have enjoyed having her in my company, but it seems you really never appreciated her spirit, did you?”
Bucky continued searching the room as Zemo continued his monologue. Coming up to the computer he saw a paused video feed. It played as soon as he stepped forward.
Bucky saw you in a room, still in your red sundress. Your hair was matted and you had the look in your eye of anger and exasperation. When you spoke, Bucky felt the wind rush out of his lungs.
“Bucky doesn’t care about me,” you said sardonically. “He never has. We are barely even friends.”
“A pity she never saw you care, but I suppose it’s only fair that you tell her now.”
The door beside the window clicked open with a beep. You came out of the cell with a look of wary surprise on your face. “Bucky?”
“Now is your moment, Sergeant Barnes. Why not tell her how you feel before it's too late,” called Zemo.
Bucky holstered his gun and walked toward you. “Y/N? Are you okay? Come on, let's get out of here.”
He grabbed your hand and turned to go but you were rooted to the spot. Your breathing became heavy as you felt the tingling sensation in your spine again.
“Bucky, I need you to leave,” you cried, dread dripping from your voice.
“What? No,sweetheart, come on! I’m not leaving you.”
“Bucky, I…” you started.
“Last chance to declare yourself, Soldat.”
Looking up in anger, Bucky yelled. “Shut up, Zemo. I’m not performing for you-” Bucky’s head turned in surprise as you punched him across the face. “What the hell, Y/N?”
“It wasn’t me!” you cried as you dropped and kicked his legs out from under him.
Bucky rolled over quickly to pick himself up as you followed him swinging punches at his head and kicks to his stomach. Your moves were both erratic and efficient as they landed multiple times. It was all Bucky could do to block your assault and move out of the way.
“This isn’t me!” you cried again between punches. “Zemo is controlling me with nanotech!”
Bucky threw up an arm to block your punch before flipping you around by your arm and pressing you to the wall. He didn’t want to hurt you but he was pretty sure that it wasn’t the most comfortable position.
“It’s okay, Y/N. We’re going to get you out of this.”
Your foot kicked his leg and you pushed yourself over and around his head and away from the wall. Grabbing the knife at his hip as you slipped out of his grip, you threw it into his thigh.
Bucky looked at you in surprise and annoyance. “Sorry!” you winced. Pulling the knife from his leg he tossed it to the floor.
“Look, Y/N. I’m not going anywhere, but try not to kill me, okay?”
“It’s not like I’m doing this on purpose Bucky!” you huffed as you charged at him.
“Well I’m just trying to get you out of the problem you put yourself in!” You had grabbed another knife and went to stab him. Bucky caught the knife and twisted your hand but the knife snagged your dress and tore the skirt as you fought to wrestle it away.
Your eyes flared with anger and the next punch you threw had a little extra heft in it.
“That I put myself in? How about you, Mr. Barge-into-a-room-with-no-back-up!”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you liked being saved! Although you’re one to talk! You came on a mission without backup!” Bucky rolled across the computer console out of the way of your next kick, getting agitated at your attitude.
“Because I needed space!” you yelled as you followed him around the computer desk.
“Space? Space from what?” Bucky yelled back, actually throwing a punch that you easily evaded.
“You! You idiot!” it burst out of you as you came up swinging before pushing him to the ground.
Bucky looked up at you with his eyes wide. You had him straddled under your legs. Bucky brought his arms up to block your punches while he tried to talk to you.
“Why would you need space from me? I don’t understand. You left without warning, without saying goodbye! Your mission was classified so I had to hack F.R.I.D.A.Y to even find out where you were!”
Your body was starting to fatigue from the strain of the fight as you continued to land blow after blow. You were fit and well trained but because your body was not your own you were blowing through energy rapidly. Your breaths were coming in short gasps as your chest heaved at each punch. If you kept this up, you weren’t sure how much time you would have before your body gave out entirely.
“Y/N, you left a huge gap! You were my best friend and then you were gone! You wouldn’t even talk to me before you left! You didn’t tell me you were leaving. I couldn’t even call you because the mission was supposed to be classified!”
Maybe it was the fatigue, maybe the hopelessness you felt, but you gave him everything you had left as you pummeled into him. Frustration over your situation, frustration at him, frustration at yourself built up inside you.
“I WILL NOT BE YOUR STAND IN! I will not be second best. I can’t look on anymore as you find someone smaller, cuter, littler to fit perfectly into your life! I deserve to be wanted! I deserve to be desired!” you screamed at the man beneath you as tears streamed down your cheeks.
Bucky finally bucked his hips and flipped you under him, pinning your hands to the ground next to your head.
“Get off of me! Let me go!” you had finally had enough. The damn had broken and your emotions and insecurities raged inside you. Your body pulled and twisted to break free from his grip.
“You do deserve to be desired,” Bucky said calmly as he caged you beneath him. “You are nobody's stand in. You’re perfect just as you are.” He wanted to say more but it was all he could do to keep you pinned under him.
The team burst down into the control room to see you openly weeping and Bucky on top of you.
“Nat, I need you to put an electric burst in my arm.” Bucky said looking up.
“I’m sorry, you what?” asked Nat.
“Just do it!” he said as you fought harder against him.
With a nod from Steve, Nat waved her baton and zapped Bucky’s arm causing both of you to scream in pain. When your body finally stopped seizing, the lack of adrenaline and the pain and fatigue caught up to you and you passed out in Bucky’s arms.
“You want to explain why I just pushed fifty thousand volts through you two?”
“Zemo infected her with some kind of nano tech. She hasn’t been in control this entire time.”
Steve scanned around the room. “Alright team, fan out. See if you can find out where Zemo went. I want teams down here with sat links up in 30 minutes.”
Bucky circled the gears around in his arm to get it up and running again before scooping you carefully off the ground.
“Buck, get her on the next jet out. Dr. Cho and Banner will be waiting for you to get back.”
…
For the second time you woke up in an unfamiliar place, and struggled to get your bearings. You felt like you’d been run over by a pick up truck and tumbled through a dryer.
Feeling slowly returned to your hands as your eyes opened and your vision cleared. You were in one of the medical rooms at the compound you realized.
“Look who decided to wake up,” said a gruff voice.
Turning your head you saw Bucky sitting in the chair beside you. He looked fresh and his eyes twinkled at you.
“Bucky,” you croaked as you tried to sit up.
“Woah there. You just relax. Your body is still trying to catch up from Zemo’s nanites.”
You slumped back down in the bed as Bucky leaned forward to take your hand.
“You had me worried there for a minute, doll. You’ve been sleeping for days. Wasn’t sure when you were going to pull through.”
“You doubt me, Barnes?”
“Not for a second, sweetheart, but I sure as hell missed you.” Bucky smiled, then looked down for a moment as if trying to find the right words. “We need to talk about why you left, Y/N.”
“No, Bucky, I...it doesn’t matter.” You say looking away. “It’s not important.”
“I don’t know, I’d say you thinking you don’t matter to me is pretty important.” You turned to look at him sharply, mouth open in a small gasp. “And I’d also say that you thinking I don’t find you desirable is pretty important too.”
You sat in shock as he spoke, not wanting to break the way you had during your fight.
“Y/N, you are perfect. You knew me before I even knew myself. You light up the whole room just by being in it. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. You are strong, independent, kind, and gentle. You’re like a tall Asgardian goddess. Every inch of you is beautiful. I thought back to the last time we talked...before you left, and I realized why you did. I know why you thought I wasn’t attracted to you. That night, Sam’s list,” he paused as if pained at the memory, “I didn’t add you because...well, because I was so confused at how I was feeling. You were my friend. I didn’t realize till it was too late that I was already falling in love with you. And I most definitely didn’t want to give Sam anymore ammunition.”
You looked up at him sharply when he dropped the L word.
Bucky stood to reposition himself on the edge of your bed. Taking your face in his hands he leans forward until your foreheads barely touch. “I didn’t want to ruin things with you. You were my friend. You were perfect and I thought you deserved better so I ran to find something that was everything you weren’t. You are my perfect fit. You are just right. You are the only person I want. Please tell me you’re mine. Please tell me I haven’t lost you.”
You brought your hand up to rest over his as you let his words wash over you.
He wanted you. He thought you were beautiful. All of you. All of the parts people had told you were too much: your height, your attitude, your independence - he wanted it all.
You did something that you wanted to do for months, you brought your lips up to his softly and gave him a chaste kiss. “I was always yours Bucky,” You pulled his hands down and pushed him away to look into his eyes, “but I won’t be taken for granted anymore. I shouldn’t have to leave for you to want me. I shouldn’t have to be gone for you to realize what you had. I left for a reason. It was to find peace with myself. I realized that I didn’t need your approval. I didn’t need your desire to be whole. I won’t settle for someone who can’t see what’s right in front of them. I know my worth.”
Bucky looked at you sorrowfully as he held onto your fingers, memorizing their shape. “I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to make you feel like you weren’t enough.”
“I know, but it happened. I don’t need you to be happy, Bucky...” Bucky hung his head in dejection. “...But I do want you.”
Bucky looked up at you sharply to find your eyes full of love and warmth. You wanted him. Even after all that happened - how he forced you away, how he made you feel like you weren’t good enough, you were still willing to forgive him. You wanted him even with all his faults.
You brought him closer for another kiss and savored the way his lips fell across yours. Breaking away to look up at him you said what you had been holding in for months, “And I love you too.”
Tags: @princessmisery666 @dreamwritesimagines
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Germs [Reid x Reader]
this gif isn’t mine
Summary: Reader is sure the resident BAU genius doesn’t like her, but she’s not sure why. But even if he did like her, he’s a germaphobe, so he wouldn’t be comfortable with the things she wants to do to him...would he?
Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female) Reader
Word Count: 5.6k
Rating: Mature
Category: Fluff and Smut
Content Warning: Brief mentions of torture and violence, usually criminal minds stuff, nothing explicit. Light choking, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative sex, fingering, language (maybe?)
A/n: I have come out of fan fiction writing retirement for this one. Let me know what y’all think! masterlist
y/n - your name
y/l/n - your last name
italicized text is Reader’s sassy inner thoughts
---
I’m not sure if I believe in hell, but if there is a hell, I’m sure it feels exactly like Louisiana in July. Every time I walked outside I felt like I was walking into soup. Gross. I couldn’t help but feel guilty over my sigh of relief when I walked back into the local precinct the team was currently working out of. Young women are dying, and I’m worried about a little bit of heat.
But, fuck, it was hot.
Speaking of heat, I thought as I threw open the door to the conference room only to run smack into the hottest thing I’d ever encountered.
“Shit,” I exclaimed before I thought better of it. “I’m so sorry.” I ran my eyes up, up, up, all the way up his body until I met his eyes; those beautiful honey brown eyes that threatened to have me acting like an idiot if I stared into them for too long.
Dr. Spencer Reid’s cheeks were tinged pink, his posture stiff, his fingers clutching the file he was carrying for dear life. “Don’t worry about it, Y/n,” he sounded uncomfortable, which made my stomach drop. “My fault.” With that, he quickly maneuvered around me and headed off to complete whatever genius task he had to complete.
My eyes followed him until he was out of sight before I mentally shook myself. ‘C’mon, this is pointless,’ I thought. ‘He doesn’t even like you.’ Which I really thought was true, the good doctor went out of his way to avoid me whenever possible. ‘Plus, he’s a germaphobe.’ This thought was confirmed true. He didn’t shake people’s hands, the only people I’d seen him touch during my time at the BAU were members of the team that he’d known for years, and some of those even seemed reluctant.
Admittedly, I didn’t know a lot about germaphobia; since I couldn’t ask the only genius I knew, I did the next logical thing. I googled it. Every person I’d read about seemed to experience germaphobia differently. Some people could have sex, but others were grossed out by the very idea. Knowing my luck, Spencer Reid and his beautiful hands, and his soulful eyes, and his cheekbones that could cut glass was in the repulsed by sex category. Which is fine! Right, it is fine to not be interested in sex; the only problem was I was very interested in every part of him.
Maybe he thinks I’m gross. Maybe I stink? Maybe he’s just repulsed by my very presence. Regardless, I couldn’t see Spencer Reid ever shoving me against a wall and fucking me senseless.
I sighed, making my way over to the conference table, pulling out a chair before I flopped into it. I could feel the exhaustion settling into my bones. We had been in Louisiana for almost a week now and we were still no closer to finding our unsub. He was a white man, he worked in a lower-paying job, and he hated women. Obviously, that didn’t narrow it down much.
The unsub was targeting women in clubs and bars, following them outside before he bashed them on the back of the head. After that, he threw the girls over his shoulder and took them to his car; he moved them to a secondary location before he tortured them. The first two victims had survived. They were traumatized, but they were fighters; they both said the same things, ‘he kept my eyes covered the entire time,’ “I never saw his face,’ ‘I did whatever he told me to do.’
We thought the killing of the third victim had been an accident, but that accident had excited our guy enough that he changed his ritual; the killing was crucial now. We had 4 bodies, 2 live victims that couldn’t tell us anything, and no leads.
Sighing, I leaned forward, bringing the heels of my hands to my eyes. I hated feeling helpless. The answer to who this fucker was is in this evidence somewhere and I will find it. If it’s the last thing I do.
The doors swung open again, pulling me from my thoughts. Hotch lead the parade of people, followed by Morgan, JJ, and Dr. Reid. Our unit chef looked gravely serious…not that that necessarily meant anything, in the 6 months I’d been with the behavioral analysis unit I hadn’t seen him have any other expression.
Morgan pulled out his phone, hitting what I suspected was speed dial number 1. “Hey baby girl,” he said, without his usual swagger; even he was tired. “You’re on speaker. You’ve got me, Hotch, JJ, Reid, and Y/l/n.”
“And I have the always wonderful Emily Prentiss, and the dashing David Rossi on the line, effectively putting my favorite people together again, as they should be,” Garcia quipped. I don’t think she meant to include me in her list of ‘favorite people,’ but it made me smile anyway. “Okay, crime fighters, what’s the play?”
“We’re still no closer to finding the unsub,” Hotch began. “He’s highly organized, methodical, and paranoid; but he hasn’t killed in 3 days, this is a break from his escalation pattern. He’s going to strike soon.” Hotch leaned over resting his palms on the shiny fake wood of the conference table. “Our best chance is to send an agent out there as bait.” There was a general murmur of agreement before he continued on. “Garcia, we need you to find all of the night clubs, bars, and whatever else you can think of in the updated comfort zone.”
The sound of keys clicking made its way through the speaker. “Assuming we’re excluding the places he’s already hit, that leaves us with 3 possibilities.”
“So far he hasn’t struck a place twice,” Prentiss chimed in. “Do we think he’s going to hold to that pattern?”
Reid moved over to the board where the map of the county was displayed. “I think so. This guy is too careful to risk going to a place where he’s been before. The chance of him being recognized is too great, especially when everyone is on high alert.” He gestured to the area he had circled on the map. “His pattern seems to be focusing in on this center point right here,” he said, placing a pin in the map. “This area means something. Garcia, what is the closest club or bar to the intersection of Washington Avenue and Harrison Street?”
“That would beeeeee…The Blue Fox.”
“That’s where he’ll be,” Dr. Reid said confidently, his eyes moving to Hotch’s face.
The older man nodded. “It’s our best lead so far, we have to run with it.”
“It’s Friday night,” Rossi pointed out. “We’ll have to act soon.”
Hotch nodded, seeming to be lost in thought. “We need to send agents in there tonight. We know the victims were all on dates or flirting with a man right before their abduction. He targets women that are happy with their companions then waits til he can separate them.”
“Who are you planning on sending in, Hotch?’ JJ questioned.
“Y/l/n is the youngest, she fits the build of the previous victims the best.” His heavy gaze rested on me. “What do you think?”
Like it was even a choice. “I’m in.”
Hotch nodded, accepting my answer. “Good. You’ll partner with Reid.”
“What?!” I squawked, much to my embarrassment. I cleared my throat before I continued. “But, Reid and I…I just thought Morgan would be the obvious choice.” Fuck, I’m just digging a bigger hole.
Morgan gave me an easy smile. “You’re just saying that because you wanna see my moves, little mama.”
Hotch cleared his throat, bringing our attention back. “Morgan is too intimidating; the unsub might not move in if he feels too threatened. You’ll go with Reid.” When he was met with silence he continued on, “alright, let’s get to work.”
-
And that is how I wound up in a club in Louisiana on a Friday night, in a tight black dress, with Spencer Reid beside me. After he walked into the club holding my hand. He doesn’t hold hands, I cringed internally at the thought. He must feel so uncomfortable.
He waved the bartender over, ordering a drink for me and a water for himself before turning to me. “I thought a drink would loosen you up a bit. You look nervous.”
I am nervous. “Right. Thanks.” I drummed my fingers on the bar, my gaze sweeping around the club for anyone who seemed out of place and especially creepy. Most lone men at clubs and bars were creepy, but we need especially creepy.
“Is that because you don’t think I can have your back?”
My head snapped back around. “What?”
Spencer paused to accept the drinks from the bartender, sliding him the money. “In the conference room. You seemed upset that Morgan wasn’t going to be your partner,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Is that because you think I wouldn’t have your back?”
Fuck. I blushed to the roots of my hair. “No, Spencer! God no! It’s not that, I know you’d have my back.” I took a sip of my drink before I said anything else. “It’s just that…you don’t seem to like me very much, and I know you have a thing about germs, and I thought maybe that’s why you didn’t like me.” I was babbling; I was absolutely babbling. “I just didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, that’s all. Morgan has never seemed uncomfortable around me, so…” I trailed off lamely.
The corners of his lips quirked up in amusement. “So, you didn’t want to partner with me on this because you didn’t want me to be uncomfortable?”
I nodded, fidgeting with the straw in my drink.
Spencer moved closer to me, his right hand coming to rest on the small of my back. He seemed as calm as he could be, meanwhile I suddenly had trouble breathing.
It’s for the case. He has to do this for the case. Calm down.
"What do my issues with germs have to do with this?" he wondered, leaning closer to me. I could feel his breath on my neck; my skin broke out in goosebumps.
Double fuck. “Well, we’re supposed to be…together. And you think I’m gross. What if you have to kiss me?” TRIPLE FUCK. “Not that we’d have to kiss,” I tried to backpedal. “But we might, you never know. And I just didn’t…I don’t want you to dislike me more than you do.”
The teasing smile slipped from his face, the fingers on my lower back flexing slightly. He regarded me with a tilt of his head. "You're serious?" At my shaky nod, he continued. "Y/n, I don't think you're gross."
“You don’t?” I squeaked.
He lifted his hand from my back then, sliding it up to my shoulder, his free hand moving from the bar to rest on my hip. Spencer brushed my hair back before he leaned forward. Slowly, slowly, slowly, I felt his lips touch the tender skin of my neck. My eyes fluttered shut, unable to suppress a gasp at the contact. Spencer Reid’s beautiful lips slid down to the place where my neck and shoulder met, then I felt his teeth nip the skin before he placed another kiss there. He worked his way back up towards my ear, the hand on my hip moving slightly so he was almost grabbing my ass. “I don’t think you’re gross,” he breathed, causing me to shudder. I could hear the smirk in his voice. “Germs don’t bother me in that way, especially around people I know. I wouldn’t have a problem kissing you, baby.”
I was going to need new panties after this. Spencer Reid, awkward, sweet, Dr. Spencer Reid just called me Baby.
“…Oh.” Really, y/n. Oh; you went with oh?
The good doctor pulled back, his face close enough to mine that I could see that he had freckles under his eyes and that those beautiful eyes got more golden towards the center. "Oh."
-
Michael Watkins was the name of our unsub. He was a short white man with a receding hairline and a bad temper. His last relationship had ended 3 months before the first attack; Spencer was right to pick this bar. Shortly after he tried to make my pussy combust with his neck kisses, Reid suggested I walk to the bathroom, assuring me he’d be watching if anyone followed.
Watkins’ hand was in my hair, dragging me outside before I made it to the ladies’ room. I felt a jolt of fear as I struggled to escape, strands of hair being ripped from my head. I shouldn’t have worried, because no sooner had the outside door opened than I heard the velvety voice of Derek Morgan. “FBI! Put your hands where we can see them.”
He attempted to run. Why would anyone try to run from Derek Morgan?
After the medics confirmed I was okay, I was sent back to the hotel while the rest of the team went with the local police to book Watkins and try to get a full confession.
“Good work,” Hotch said, his hand clapping down on my shoulder.
The highest praise I’ll ever need.
I hopped into the shower right when I got back to my room, not wanting Watkins’ touch on me for a moment longer.
Spencer’s touch, however,…That was a touch I wouldn’t mind having on me. But he’d barely looked at me once he made it outside. I knew he was being affectionate in there because of the case, we were playing a role. I knew that. I still couldn’t stop the twinge of hurt I felt.
But he doesn’t think I’m gross. That had to count for something.
I had just got done blow drying my hair enough so that it wouldn’t look too crazy when I woke up when there was a knock on my door. Figuring it was Emily, I didn't consider the fact that I was in my pajamas, and my face was scrubbed free of makeup.
It wasn’t Emily. Spencer Reid stood on the other side of my door, his eyes running down my body before he met my bewildered stare again. “You look comfy,” he commented with that damn little smile on his lips again.
“Oh. Yeah. I took a shower.” Way to go, y/n, you’re really killing it tonight.
“I see that,” he said, his cheeks going a little bit pink. “Can I come in? I thought we should talk.” Was he nervous? Why would he be nervous?
I ushered him in, shutting the door behind him. He sat on the bottom edge of my bed; his body angled towards the headboard. I briefly debated about where to sit before I joined him. Don’t make it weird, y/n.
He cleared his throat before he began. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable tonight. I just wanted to make sure we got the guy.”
Right. “Oh, it’s okay, Spencer. I get it. I wasn’t uncomfortable.” I picked at the frayed edge of my sleep shorts, my eyes dropping so he didn’t see anything on my face that betrayed how I was feeling; you can’t be too careful around profilers.
His hand reached out to cover my own fidgeting hands, one of his hands covering both of mine. His hands were so big. His fingers were so long, the veins in his hands were so pronounced. I bet those fingers would feel really – FOCUS.
“I’m also sorry you thought I didn’t like you.” His thumb had started to move slowly over the back of my hand. “I do like you. I like you a lot, actually. I just…” I brought my gaze back up to meet his eyes. “I just get nervous sometimes.”
“You didn’t seem nervous in the club.”
“No,” he chuckled. “I wasn’t nervous then because it was my job. I wasn’t worried about misreading a signal…doing the wrong thing…I’m not the best with social cues.” I had noticed that about him before. “But I am a really good profiler.” And he’s humble too, apparently.
“I know that you couldn’t fake your reaction to me in the club. Your breathing became quicker, I felt your pulse jump under my lips when they were on your neck. I saw how blown your pupils got." He shifted closer to me then, bringing his other hand up to push my hair behind my shoulder like he did earlier in the night. "Just like they are now."
He leaned closer to me, his voice was lower, and it made my stomach flutter. "You're clenching your thighs together, Y/n. Your shirt may be baggy, but I can see how hard your nipples are too." His tongue ran out to wet his lips. "If I'm wrong, just tell me now. If I've misread this, I will leave right now, and we can pretend this never happened." Spencer brought both his hands up to cradle my face; despite how wet my panties were, how tight my nipples are, how badly I wanted him to touch me, this gesture made me feel special. He was holding me like he actually cared about me like I was precious. "But, if I'm not wrong, and you want this too, Y/n, tell me. Tell me you want this too and I won't stop touching you until you scream my name."
I let out a soft whimper then. Like it’s a choice. “I want this,” I leaned into his touch. “Please, Spencer.”
His thumb brushed over my cheek, his eyes never leaving mine. “Please, what, baby?”
“Kiss me.”
No sooner had the words left my mouth than his lips were on mine. His lips were softer than I imagined, they were firm and almost…questioning. When I nipped at his bottom lip, something seemed to break free inside of him. His lips slanted over mine with a hunger I had never felt. His tongue ran over my bottom lip before I opened for him. Spencer’s tongue moved into my mouth while his hands moved; one hand moved back to grip my hair at the base of my skull, tugging firmly, the other moved down to my neck, not applying any pressure, just resting it there in a gesture that felt possessive.
The need for oxygen broke us apart, his lips moving across my cheek to my jaw, then down to my neck. “How could you think I didn’t like you?” he mumbled into my skin. “You have no idea what you do to me. None.”
I threw my head back when he sucked on my pulse point, a moan ripping from my throat. “W-what…what do I do?”
Pulling back from me, he gripped the bottom of my shirt, looking at me for consent before he pulled it over my head. His eyes were firmly on my chest, his lips parted, his breathing heavy. He pushed me down slowly on the bed; I was on my back and he was hovering over me. I felt his mouth place hot, wet, kisses from my collarbone down towards my breasts. His right hand landed on my breast, his thumb brushing back and forth over my nipple while his lips moved closer and closer to my left. I tangled my hands in his hair, urging him forward.
“You want to know what you do to me?” he raised his head slightly, making sure my eyes were on him when he flicked his tongue over my nipple, causing me to gasp. “What do you do to me in your little skirts, with your little smiles, and your little laughs?” He gave my nipple a sharp pinch. “You’re all I fucking think about, y/n.” With a growl, he finally took my nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his teeth and tongue. He switched to the other breast while he adjusted himself over me, bringing his pelvis down to rest at the seam of my body between my thighs. I shifted restlessly under him, trying to grind my pussy against him. He was so fucking hard.
With a groan, he lifted his head and started kissing his way towards the middle of my chest, moving down to the curve of my stomach. “Do you know how many times I came back to my hotel room after spending all day with you and was so hard I had to cum before I could think of anything else?” he peppered kisses down my body as he spoke.
My eyes shot open at this confession that he seemed to think was no big deal. “What?” I couldn’t believe this. “You…you touched yourself and thought of…”
He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my shorts and panties, taking my raised hips as an invitation to remove both from my body. "You. I thought of you." He threw my clothes on the floor, pulling my legs open. His eyes moved over all of me, his Adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed hard. “I thought about kissing you. About making you squirm for me.” He ran his fingers up and down my thighs, his mouth running slowly over my inner thighs. Spencer’s hands hooked around my upper thighs, moving me to where he wanted me. “But, most of all, I thought about this pretty pussy.” He placed a kiss on my clit, chuckling at the wanton moan that came from me and how my fingers tangled in his soft brown curls. “I thought about all the different ways I could make this pretty pussy cum all over me.” With that, he ran his tongue up my slit before flicking it over my clit.
Dr. Spencer Reid was good at everything, so of course, he was good at this too. His mouth moved over me, watching my reaction to see what I liked best. His tongue moved in circles around my clit before slipping down to my opening. His tongue plunged inside me, fucking me, while his thumb came over to rub my clit.
“Spence- fuck- Spencer, please.” My hips tried to shift restlessly, but his arms were iron bars holding me still. He slowly moved his left forearm to rest across my hips, bringing his right hand down to my throbbing pussy. He pulled his mouth away from me, much to my dismay. He pushed one finger, then another into me. My head thrashed wildly, and my thighs started to shake. “Spencer!”
He just smirked and curled his fingers, hitting the spot inside me that made everything in my body pulse. “What, baby?”
My breaths were coming in gasps, my voice was a needy whimper. “Make me cum, Spencer. Please, please make me cum.”
He needed no other encouragement. His fingers continued their steady thrust in and out of me while his mouth covered my clit again. He alternated between flicking my clit with his tongue, then circling it before pulling it into his mouth, sucking lightly.
“Spencer.” I felt my orgasm rising. “Spencer don’t- don’t stop. I’m gonna cum, please make me cum.”
He kept his pace steady, sucking on my clit, moaning at my words. His eyes had been closed, but at that moment they opened and met mine. Then I felt his teeth ghost over my clit, I saw the want in his eyes. That was my undoing. My back arched, my mouth hung open in a silent scream. I heard myself say his name over and over again. Spencer pushed his fingers inside me, massaging me through the most powerful orgasm I had ever had. With one final kiss on my oversensitive clit, he withdrew his fingers, putting them into his mouth to suck my orgasm off of them.
He kissed back up my body, and I tried to respond, but I was still so shattered. I had never felt anything so powerful before. He cupped my face in one hand and kissed me slowly. I returned the kiss, moving my hands to the buttons of his shirt.
Spencer broke the kiss, pulling back to look at me again. “Hang on, baby.” His hand came up to still my own. “We can take a second. It’s okay. Just breathe.”
This beautiful man smiled at me then. I felt my heart flutter when he leaned down to pepper soft kisses along my jaw, his thumb coming up to wipe a tear that fell from the corner of my eye that I hadn’t even noticed.
I don’t know how long we stayed like that. He shifted to lay beside me, whispering reassurances to me while I came back down. This was just one of the ways that Spencer was so different from every other man. I didn't feel rushed, or pressured. I could feel how hard he still was, I could feel the tension in his body, but he simply kissed me while he cupped my jaw.
He made me feel…cherished.
I moved my hands to tangle in his hair again, deepening our kiss. He didn’t move my hands away when I started to work on the buttons of his shirt. The fire that I thought had been calmed by my orgasm had come roaring back. Spencer moved his hands to his belt while I finished with his shirt. His shirt came off, tossed in the same direction as my clothes. I pulled his pants and boxers down his legs, watching his cock spring free.
Everything about him was painfully beautiful. His angular cheekbones, the jaw that looked like it was carved from granite, even the toned muscles of his body. He had a small trail of hair that went down from his belly button to his groin. His cock laid against his stomach, the head glistening with precum.
“You’re beautiful,” I whispered, kneeling beside him, running my eyes over his body.
His soft hand came to grab mine, pulling it to his lips. He kissed the back of my hand, smiling softly at me.
I moved to straddle him, lower on his thighs. I took him in my hand, moving up and down, twisting my wrist as I neared the tip, swiping my thumb over his head.
“Baby,” he groaned. “Y/n, as much as I want you to do…whatever the fuck you want with me, I’m so close. I feel like I’m going to explode.” I bit into my bottom lip, unable to totally stop the smile spreading over my face. “Please, I need to feel your pussy wrapped around my cock.” He moved his hands to my hips, urging my body forward.
I raised up on my knees, taking him in my hand again, lining him up with my entrance. The tendons in his neck were strained, his fingers gripped my hips so hard I knew I was going to have bruises tomorrow. As I slowly started to sink down on his cock, Spencer let out the sexiest groan I had ever heard. His eyes were fixed where our bodies were joined, watching his dick slid deeper inside of me.
“Come on, baby,” he whispered. “You’re doing so good. Just a little bit more.”
He was so long, he wasn't overly thick, but just thick enough to cause a pleasurable stretching when he breached me that was almost painful. I gasped out a sound that might have been his name when he bottomed out inside me. I slowly circled my hips, adjusting to him. Spencer’s nails dug into my hips as he forced himself to stay still.
“Please move, y/n. Please. You’re so fucking tight.” He groaned as my walls fluttered around him. “Do you like it when I talk to you? Does that make your pretty pussy wetter?” He smirked at my whimper as I tightened around him.
I began at a slower pace, trying to tease him. Spencer quickly lost patience with that; he thrust his hips upwards, meeting my movements, his hands pushing me down onto him. I leaned forward, bracing on hand on his shoulder, the other on the bed. He pounded into me while I tried to match his pace. Spencer’s hand moved from my hip up to wrap around my throat. I nodded, forcing my eyes to stay open as he moved inside me.
His fingers squeezed slightly, pulling my face closer to his. Our lips met in a sloppy kiss. My thighs burned from matching his movements. “You feel so fucking good, y/n.” His grip on my neck tightened ever so slightly, which only heightened my arousal. “I want to feel you cum on my cock. Can you do that for me, pretty girl?”
He flipped us over quickly, never pulling completely out of me. Spencer moved to push my legs further apart, the change in angle allowing him to fill me deeper than I thought possible. His hair was sticking to his brow, his cheeks were flushed, his breathing erratic. He was the most fucking beautiful thing I had ever seen.
One hand held my leg, the other went down to my pussy, his thumb moving over my clit at a rapid pace. “Tell me what you need, Pretty Girl. Tell me how to make this pretty pussy cum all over me.”
I whined at his words. “Spencer, I-“ my voice broke off. I was so fucking close. "I need you." He seemed to understand my broken plea. He brought his body down, his chest flush against mine. He rocked into me at such a fast and hard pace. His hand still in between us rubbing circles around my clit.
I felt his lips ghost over my ear. “I want to fucking hear you, y/n.” His speed increased, his thrust getting choppier. He was close. “I want this whole fucking town to hear what you sound like when I make you cum. When you cream all over my dick, I want you to scream my name.” With that, he moved his mouth down my neck. He bit the same tender area he had kissed in the club, where my neck met my shoulder.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck yes, Spencer!" I felt myself begin to splinter apart. “Please make me cum, fuck please.” My babbling finally broke as my orgasm tore through me. I couldn’t hear his deep groan when I came, my scream was too loud. I felt the vibration against my neck. It was only as I started to float down that I realized my nails were dug into his back. With a few last thrust and my name on his lips, I felt Spencer pulse, cumming inside me.
We lay there for a few minutes, just breathing before he rolled off of me. I felt overwhelmed, so I was relieved when he tugged me over to him. He wrapped his arm around me when I laid my head on his chest. I felt his lips on my forehead. “It’s very important for women to urinate after sexual intercourse to avoid UTIs, but you have another minute or so before that becomes more urgent.”
I couldn’t control my laugh at his comment. "Thanks, Doc." I kissed his chest. "Only you could make me cum so hard I almost blackout, then go back to being…you." I slowly untangled myself from him, going to the bathroom to handle business. When I returned, I found Spencer where I left him, his eyes were fixed on the ceiling, one hand resting behind his head, the other over his heart. He looked so lost in that moment.
“Spencer?” I asked, crawling on to the bed. “What’s wrong?”
He didn’t pretend that something wasn’t bothering him. “When you said that I just go back to being me…Do you not like that?”
My heart broke a tiny bit at the question. “Spencer, no! I love that! I love your little facts and statistics!” How did he not know that? “The best part of my day is listening to you talk. Just being with you is wonderful.” I cupped his face, bringing his gaze to mine. “Sure, I like what we just did; but I liked you before that. I want both.” Fuck. “Assuming you want me,” I rambled quickly. “This doesn’t have to mean anything, I know that it doesn’t always-“
He cut me off by pressing his lips to mine in the sweetest kiss I had ever felt. It was filled with hope and promise and…Spencer.
“It means everything to me, Y/n.”
-
I didn’t see the rest of the team until the next morning when we all boarded the jet; I was so ready to go home. I personally didn’t think anything appeared that different. Spencer sat beside me on the couch, but that wasn’t weird…right? We were just co-workers, sitting beside each other super casually. Had we spent most of last night and a little bit of this morning screwing each other’s brains out? Certainly. But you couldn’t see that…right?
Morgan’s chuckle is what confirmed I was so wrong. “Hey, y/l/n,” he called, smiling so hard it looked like his face would split from his amusement. “You missed a spot.” He pointed towards his own neck.
There was a beat of silence before Hotch snorted. SSA Aaron Hotchner, the man who never found anything funny was laughing at me.
I felt myself turn tomato red, angling my body towards Spencer’s, burying my head against his shoulder, away from the rest of the team.
“I bet you’re glad pretty boy was your partner now, huh?”
I may have wanted to melt into the floor in embarrassment, but it was sort of worth it to see the blush on Spencer’s cheeks.
--
#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#Dr Reid#Spencer reid fic#Spencer reid smut#dr spencer reid smut#dr spencer reid fics#criminal minds#criminal minds fan fic#criminal minds smut#Spencer reid x you#Spencer reid x reader#Spencer reid x y/n
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The Shield and the Sweater
Hello lovelies! This little fic came to me when the lovely, beautiful, talented @stargazingfangirl18 asked a very important question on her blog. Would you rather be enemies to lovers with Steve Rogers or friends with benefits with Ransom Drysdale. Well my greedy ass wanted both. Thus the birth of this story. I also turned it around a little to make it fit into Siri’s 5k Soft Dark Challenge! I’ve never written anything dark before. Also not sure if this classifies as soft!dark or if it’s more dark. But it’s one of those! If that makes you uncomfortable, then please don’t read it. This is also my first time writing a threesome, so let me know if it sucks! I hope you enjoy it! 😘
General prompts:
8)The town golden boy isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks.
Dialogue prompts:
3)”Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”
11)”I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.”
Rating: Explicit(if you’re under 18, please leave)
Words: 6.2k(this one got away from me, sorry)
Warnings: soft!dark/dark themes, unprotected sex, anal sex, vaginal sex, threesome(M/M/F), manipulation, language, model!Ransom being an asshole, Steve not being who you think he is
“And I really think if everyone pitches in to make these changes, it’ll really make a difference in the long run.”
Wow, so this is how you were going to die. In your whole 20 something years of existence, you never thought boredom would be your cause of death.
Sure, you were the lead Accountant at Stark Tower and these monthly meetings were mandatory. But did you really have to be here to listen to Rogers go on and on about how we can ‘improve our working environment’? Why did he even care anyway? He was barely ever here as it is.
You must have been zoning out worse than you thought because next thing you know your coworker, Janet, is poking you in the side and pointing towards Steve.
With a quick glare sent her way, you move your gaze to the Captain. He is giving you the same look he always does. Like he’s disgusted with you. “I’m sorry Miss Y/L/N. Am I boring you?”
A scoff escapes your mouth. “No, not at all Captain Rogers. I just love when people who are never here seem to always have an opinion on how things are run and how they could be better.”
He narrows his eyes at you. “Do you have a problem with me, Y/N? Cause if you do, I’m sure there’s a way to solve that.”
You stand up and match his expression. You lean forward with your hands resting on the table. You can’t help but notice the Captain drops his gaze to your cleavage that’s now on more display than before. But just as quick as it was there, his gaze rises back up to meet your face. “Is that a threat, Captain Rogers?”
“Oh, it’s more than a-“
Tony quickly stands up and claps his hands together. “Okay! Meeting adjourned! You two, come here!”
You quickly straighten yourself up and make your way over to Tony. You always try to make sure you show him as much respect as you can. He’s your boss after all.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. My emotions got the better of me. It won’t happen again.”
He nods to you. “Thank you, Y/N. I accept your apology. But what I’m not understanding is why Steve here wanted to fire you?”
You both turn to look at Steve who has a sheepish expression on his face. “Yeah, sorry about that, Tony. She just seems to bring out this ugly side of me. I’ll try to keep it more contained next time.” He then moves his gaze to you. “Sorry, Y/N. I promise to be more professional moving forward.”
He makes a quick exit, leaving you shocked that he apologized at all. Ever since you started here almost a year ago now, you’ve been at each other’s throats. It was your fault really.
It was your first week and you were in the break room grabbing some coffee when you overheard a few of your coworkers making fun of Steve for being a virgin. Now, you weren’t sure if it was true but you wanted to fit in so you made your way over to the group and asked if anyone calls him Captain Virgin. That earned you some big laughs. But the laughter died down quickly as Steve entered the room to grab some coffee. Judging by the glare he gave you, he heard what you had called him.
You went straight to Tony after that to apologize. You really didn’t want to get fired. But you wanted to make sure Tony heard the story from you before Steve got the chance to talk to him. To your utter surprise, Tony found the name hilarious and gave you a high five, saying you were going to fit right in.
Well long story short, it’s almost a year later and Steve is still getting called Captain Virgin. Oh but don’t worry, he has names of his own for you. His favorite is Tony’s Pet. For some reason, it really eats at you when he calls you that.
But the one thing you hate the most about Steve?
Is how utterly, hopelessly, and desperately attracted you are to the son of a bitch.
That happened in your second week when you went to use the complimentary gym and saw him beating the shit out of some poor punching bag. Your panties and your workout were definitely ruined after that.
The more you fought with Steve, the more you just wanted him to bend you over any surface and have his way with you.
It was despicable how horny you were for him. You were pretty sure all he’d have to do is snap his fingers and point to the floor in front of him and you’d happily drop to your knees and take him down your throat.
So that left you leaving work every day in a horny state. You started by taking care of it yourself when you got home. But after a while even that wasn’t cutting it. Then you started bringing home one night stands. But after the 4th disappointing non-orgasm, you gave up and just learned to live with it.
Sure, you could attempt to start being nice to Steve and maybe ask him out. But you were pretty sure he hated you. Plus you have way too much pride to actually do that.
So that leads to now. It’s Friday night and your workday is almost over. You’re inputting the last few numbers from the last expense report in your pile.
You get the last number put in when Janet approaches you. She sits on the corner of your desk. “So, you coming tonight?”
You take your glasses off and lean back in your chair, stretching your arms over your head. “Coming where?”
She rolls her eyes at you. “Oh, come on Y/N! You know we go out almost every Friday night. You never come and you always say you will!”
You start to clear off your desk and put things back in their place. “Yeah well I could. Or I could go home and sit on my ass and do nothing.”
“Well, that explains why it’s looking a bit bigger lately.”
Janet’s jaw drops as she directs her gaze at Steve, who is now standing in front of your desk.
You smirk and lean on your elbows towards him. “You like looking at my ass, Rogers?”
He scoffs. “Well when it takes up that much space, it’s hard not to notice. But here, I came to give you this.”
He hands you what looks to be a 10 page expense report. “Sorry it’s late, I’ve been busy, you know. Saving the world.”
You ungraciously take it from him and throw it in your to-do pile. “That can wait until Monday. I’ve got plans. We’re going to-” you look towards Janet for clarification. “Lavo.” You turn your gaze back to Steve. “Yeah, we’re going to Lavo. So this will wait til Monday if that’s okay with you, sir.”
Steve does his best to move his bag and jacket subtly towards the front of his pants so you won’t notice his growing hard-on. He hates how turned on he gets when you guys get into it. And then you call him sir? Jesus. He clears his throat. “Of course, I'm the one who turned it in at the last minute.”
Janet speaks up quickly. “You could always come with us! It’ll be fun!”
You grin widely at him. “Yeah! You could finally get your cherry popped, Captain Virgin.”
Steve can’t help the blush that covers his cheeks. “Uh, I can assure you my cherry has been popped since the 40’s. But thank you for your concern. And thank you for the invite, Janet. But i think I’ll stay in tonight.” He takes out his phone and sends a quick text before turning around and walking towards the elevators.
Wow. He didn’t even try to retaliate. You shrug your shoulders and grab your purse before standing up. “Alright, I’ll go! But on one condition!”
Janet claps her hands in excitement and starts walking with you towards the elevators. “Sure, anything!”
You press the button for the lobby. “You are going to be my wingwoman. Cause this girl definitely needs to get laid.”
😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈
Lavo is super packed by the time you guys arrive. Of course you all had to go home and change.
You decided to go with a simple, yet effective, little black dress that showed off just enough to get men’s attention.
Thankfully you are able to score the last table. The waiter comes over and gets everyone’s drink order. You decide to stick with your favorite. You don’t want to get too drunk on the off chance you find someone to take home.
About a half hour into hot office gossip, Lucy, who is sitting across from you, taps your arm. You raise your eyebrows in question towards her.
She subtly nods her head towards the bar. “Okay I’m pretty sure the hottest guy I have ever seen is checking you out.”
You can’t help the smirk that crosses your face. “Yeah? Which one?”
“You can’t miss him. He’s fucking hot. Like no comparison to any of the other dudes sitting up there.”
You glance down at your drink and quickly finish the remainder. You stand up and adjust your dress, pushing up your breasts in the process. “Well, then I guess it’s time for a refill.” You wink and turn to make your way towards the bar.
It doesn’t take long for you to spot him. And boy was Lucy not kidding. He was fucking hot. Brown hair, blue eyes, and a smug smirk that would normally turn you off. But on him it worked. And who even looks that good in a fucking cream colored cable knit?
You go up to the bar, not too close to Mr. Hottie of course, and patiently wait for the bartender.
Hottie McHothot not so subtly moves his gaze up and down your body. He must like what he sees. “Hey honey, have you ever raised chickens?”
Uh. That’s definitely not the first thing you expected to come out of his mouth. You look over at him with confusion on your face. “Uh, no. Why do you ask?”
He just shrugs his shoulders. “Just kinda figured you might. Cause you sure can raise a cock.”
Okay, you’ve definitely never heard that line before. You crack up. You’re pretty sure you even snorted on accident. Once you collect yourself you ask, “Has that line ever worked for you?”
The bartender makes his way over to take your order. After reordering what you had before, you turn towards Hottie and wait for his answer.
“Not sure, my buddy told it to me yesterday so this is the first time I’m using it. Did it work?”
You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know. It was pretty cheesy.”
“Yeah, maybe. But it got you to laugh. So I’d say mission accomplished. Name’s Ransom. What’s yours, pretty girl?” He holds out his hand for you to shake.
Ransom. Now where have you heard that name before? You accept his hand shake. You can’t help but notice how much bigger his hands are than yours. Jesus. You could already feel your panties getting wet.
“My name’s Y/N. Ransom, that sounds familiar. Do I know you?”
He releases your hand and goes to take a sip of his bourbon. “Well, I guess that depends. Do you read magazines or have you seen the side of the city bus lately?”
You quickly wrack your brain. You don’t read many magazines. But the bus drives by you everyday on your walk to work. Holy shit! That’s it! He’s in his underwear on the side of the bus. You’ve drooled over that picture plenty of times.
“Oh, yeah! I remember now! I’ve seen you on the bus! What’s it an ad for? I can never really get past the almost naked man. A bit distracting on my way to work.”
He smirks as he briefly glances down at your breasts. “I’m glad you know my work. It’s an ad for Calvin Klein. For their new line of men’s briefs. Sorry I’ve been a distraction.” He sends you a wink.
Fuck. He was a model. And a popular one at that if he’s in an ad for Calvin Klein.
“I didn’t say I minded. You can make it up to me you know.” You wink back. Holy shit. Were you really flirting with a model?
“Yeah? Well, how about we get out of here and I’ll show you a fully naked man.”
Okay. Cheesy line number 2. Was that really going to work on you?
Yes.
Yes it was.
“Let me just go grab my purse.”
Drink forgotten, you go back to your table as quickly as you can without looking desperate. “Sorry, girls. But this is where I leave you.”
Janet glances down at her phone. “We haven’t even been here an hour yet! Where are you going?”
You send her a wink. “I’m leaving with that guy! You guys know him! Remember that ad on the side of the bus?”
They all turn their gaze to him. And they all make it very obvious. He just waves and sends them a smirk.
“Holy fucking shit! That’s the new Calvin Klein guy! Oh my god you lucky bitch!”
“Wait! Listen. We’ll let you go on one condition.”
You furrow your brows in confusion. “Okay?”
Janet gives you a naughty smirk. “On Monday I’ll need a report on if they had to stuff his briefs to get that delicious looking bulge or not.”
You give her a naughty smirk of your own. “I can totally do that.”
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Monday morning you were all smiles as you stepped off the elevator and headed towards your desk. You give Janet a wink as you pass by her. She quickly makes her way over just as you sit down. “Um, excuse me hoe. But is that the same dress you were wearing Friday night?”
You quickly grab the cardigan you always keep in your desk out and put it on and button it up, attempting to look a little more professional. “Maybe.”
Janet opens her mouth in shock. “You stayed the whole weekend with him? You little slut! How was it?”
You turn on your computer and grab for the expense report of Steve’s you left in your to-do pile. Then you turn towards your nosy coworker. “Well, if you must know, yes. I did stay the whole weekend with him. And I’m pretty sure I was in an orgasm-induced coma the whole time. It’s all kind of a rough, sticky, mind-blowing blur.”
“Are you going to see him again?”
You shrug your shoulders as you put in your login information on the computer. “I haven’t decided yet. While the sex was the best I’ve ever had, he’s kind of an ass. Talked about himself and all the famous people he’s hooked up with since becoming a model. I honestly kept initiating sex just to make him shut up.”
She gives you a look like you’re stupid. “I’m not seeing the issue here. So what if he talks about himself a lot? The sex was amazing. You need to lock that down girl.”
You roll your eyes at her. “That’s the thing, Janet. He doesn’t do relationships. He told me so multiple times. Plus I’m pretty sure he was texting another chick in between our ‘sessions’. I suppose if I’m desperate, I’ll get a hold of him.”
“You know you could always just have him on backup for sex. Like a friends with benefits situation.”
“Janet, I’m in my late 20s. I’m too old for that kind of relationship.”
“Exactly, you’re in your late 20s! This is the perfect time for that kind of relationship before you settle down and get married! Have one last final hoorah!”
“I can’t have this conversation before caffeine. I’m going to get coffee. You act like I’m dying soon or something.” You turn to walk away but then remember you were supposed to tell her something. “Oh yeah and by the way. The bulge is definitely not stuffed.”
You give her a wink and then head to the break room for some much needed coffee. When you see who’s in there, you almost contemplate going downstairs to a different break room.
Steve is standing at the counter, preparing his coffee. He turns when he hears you come in and gives you a once over. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”
You grab a mug out of the cabinet beside him. “Sorry my appearance isn’t up to your standards today, Rogers. I was a little...busy this weekend.”
He takes a sip of his coffee to make sure it’s right. Then he moves out of your way so you can get to the coffee, but still staying close. “Busy getting run over by a truck? Cause that’s kind of what you look like.”
You pour yourself a generous amount of coffee and take a long sip, letting the bitter liquid slowly make you human. “Yeah, well. I was busy getting fucked all weekend, Rogers. But I know your little innocent mind wouldn’t know what that’s like.”
That wipes the stupid little smirk right off his face. He almost looks pissed. He moves even closer to you. Almost pressing himself right up against you. So close that you can smell his coffee-scented breath. If you were wearing panties, they’d be ruined.
“Not all of us feel the need to sleep around. Some of us are looking for a real connection. Not just a one night stand of meaningless, mediocre sex.”
You press yourself just a little closer to him, his chest now touching yours. “Oh, it was anything but mediocre. Maybe if you actually got some, you’d know what that feels like.”
He leans his head down until his mouth is next to your ear, his left hand now resting on your hip. “You really need to stop insinuating that I’m a virgin sweetheart. If you were nicer to me, I’d show you that I know how to fuck.” With that he backs up and heads out of the break room.
You let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Jesus Christ. You swear you almost came.
And if you were nicer to him? Fuck him. He’s not nice to you either. That’s okay. You have someone who can scratch this itch.
You pull out your phone and send a quick text.
To: Fuckboi
You busy tonight? I could really use a release.
The reply came almost immediately.
From: Fuckboi
Didn’t get enough of my cock this weekend huh? I suppose I could make myself available.
You roll your eyes and quickly reply with your address and what time to be over.
The rest of the day passes by slowly. It takes you half the day to enter Steve’s expense report. God he’s descriptive. At least it’s completed. You can’t really say that much for the other Avengers. They usually half assed them and made them barely acceptable.
You are shutting down for the day when Steve approaches your desk. You remove your glasses and look at him expectantly. “Is there something I can help you with, Steve?”
A blush creeps it’s way across his cheeks. “Um, I was actually just wondering if you had time to go over the new expense report forms? They should be a lot easier to fill out.”
You glance down at the clock on your computer. Ransom is going to be at your place in about 20 minutes.“Can we do it tomorrow? I have company that’ll be showing up at my apartment in like 20 minutes.”
His hopeful smile falls. His face is now unreadable. “Would your company happen to be whoever you spent the weekend with?”
Confused, you grab for your purse after getting your computer shut down. “Actually, yes. Should I have asked your permission first?” You attempt a joke to ease the sudden tension.
He pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously. Wow. You weren’t aware he knew how to text. You hear it ping with a reply before he angrily puts it back in his pocket. “Sure, we can do this tomorrow. Wouldn’t want to get in the way of your whoreing around.”
Your jaw drops in surprise. Sure you guys were always throwing jabs at each other. But he’d never said anything like this before. And in such a mean tone.
You round your desk and stand right in front of him. “Fuck you, Steve.”
You hurry towards the elevators before he can see the tears that have welled up. You couldn’t let him know he had that power over you. Asshole. Thank god Ransom was coming over. Hopefully he could fuck what Steve just said right out of your head.
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You’ve lost count of how many orgasms Ransom has pulled from you with his mouth when there’s a knock on your door.
Ransom looks up at you from his kneeling position on your living room floor. “Did you invite someone else to join us, pretty girl?”
You scoff and push him away so you can stand up. You pull your dress down as you make your way towards the door. “Yeah. I can barely handle just you. I’m pretty sure if we added someone else, I’d actually die.”
You open the door and gasp in surprise. “Steve? What are you doing here?”
He rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Look, I know you probably already have company but I felt really bad about what I said to you earlier today and wanted to apologize.”
You have so many questions. “How did you know where I lived?”
That sheepish smile makes its appearance again. “I may or may not have looked in your employee file.”
You shake your head. “And you felt the need to come all the way here and apologize? Why not just text me?”
“It would only have felt right to me to do it in person. I really am sor-”
You feel a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. “Well, who do we have here? Why is Captain America at your door?”
You turn your head to address Ransom. “He just came by to apologize to me. I think he was just leaving.”
Steve has a disappointed look on his face. “Yeah, I suppose I was.”
“Awe, what a shame. I thought you were gonna ask him to join us, pretty girl.”
Steve’s eyes grow wide at the thought. You quickly speak up. “No, I don’t think he’d be comfortable with that. He’s a little old fashioned.” You give him a sincere smile. You didn't think that was a bad thing.
Steve looks back towards the elevators and then back to you. He clears his throat. “What if I wanted to join you?” Seeing your wide eyed look, he quickly adds, “Only if Y/N would be comfortable with that of course.”
You contemplate what the consequences could be in your head. But then you get distracted when Ransom starts grinding his hard on against your ass. “Come on, pretty girl. Make a decision.”
The next word comes out of your mouth faster than what your brain can process. “Okay.”
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Now you were standing awkwardly in your bedroom with Steve and Ransom looking at you expectantly.
You’ve never done this before so you’re not sure how this is supposed to go. “So, um. How do we start exactly?”
Ransom smirks and comes up behind you. “I think you should call the shots, pretty girl. If you’re okay with that, Steve?”
With the mention of his name, he walks towards you and places his hands on your hips. “I think that’s a great idea. Can I kiss you now?” He places his hand under your chin and raises your face up to meet his. “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.” With that, his lips meet yours. It’s explosive. You quickly wrap your hands around his neck and press yourself up against him.
You get so lost in the kiss, you forget that Ransom is there. That is until he presses his lips against your neck and presses himself against your ass. It presses you even further against Steve, making you feel his excitement against your lower belly.
You’re so overwhelmed already and you’d barely started. You may not survive this evening.
As you move your hands down to remove Steve’s shirt, Ransom is unzipping your dress, pressing kisses to every inch of exposed skin.
Without breaking the kiss, Steve moves his hands around to unhook your bra so he can get his hands on your breasts. He pinches your nipples, causing you to moan into his mouth. He moves his lips to your neck, sucking on your pulse point.
After successfully removing your dress, Ransom stands back up and turns your head to connect your lips. He starts rutting his clothed hard on against your naked ass. His left hand reaches around to bat one of Steve’s away so he can squeeze your breast.
Steve takes the hand that had been swatted away and moves it down to your soaking wet core. He starts lightly circling your clit. Just enough pressure to make you mewl.
You reach behind you with your left hand and tug at the waistband of Ransom’s briefs. “Off.” You moan out as you take your right hand and start attempting to take off Steve’s jeans. He smirks into your neck and helps you out. He barely gets them unbuttoned and unzipped before you’re reaching your hand into them and his boxers to grab his cock. It feels big.
Ransom grabs your left hand and places it on his now free cock. You wrap your hand around it and give it a squeeze before you start pumping your hand up and down. You do the same to Steve’s, making the both of them let out grunts against both sides of your neck. Steve increases the pressure on your clit a little. Still not enough.
“Nee-need, you. Please.” You weakly moan out. Ransom moves his mouth up to your ear. “How do you want us, pretty girl?”
You reluctantly pull away from both of them so you can think. You decide to be greedy. You point to Steve. “I want you to lay on the bed, please.”
He does as you ask. Putting his hands behind his head as he awaits further instructions.
You get on the bed and straddle him. You turn around and reach your arm out for Ransom. “Want you behind me.” You lean over and open your bedside drawer to grab the lube and toss it at Ransom. He smirks as he straddles Steve’s legs and gets behind you. He uncaps the lube and starts coating his cock with a generous amount. “Need my cock in that ass, pretty girl?”
You hold up your hand. “Wait.” You lean down towards Steve and give him a quick kiss. “Are you okay with this?”
He nods his head. “As long as you are.” You raise back up and smile at him. You turn your head and look at Ransom. “I’m assuming you're okay with this?”
He just smirks and squeezes some lube out so that it slides down the crack of your ass. “More than okay, pretty girl. Need me to stretch you out first?”
You smirk and pull him in for a quick, filthy kiss. “I think it got plenty stretched out this weekend.”
He matches your smirk. “You little slut. Wanting both of our cocks stuffing you full.”
You whimper as he lands a smack on your ass. Leaning up on your knees, you grab a hold of Steve’s cock and start running his tip up and down your folds. He places his left hand on your right hip and his right hand on your left thigh. “Condom?”
You quickly shake your head and pause your actions. “On the pill. Unless of course you’d be more comfortable with one.”
He shakes his head. “No, just making sure.”
You turn back to Ransom. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you.”
He nods and places his hands on your shoulders, waiting somewhat patiently.
You slowly sink down on Steve’s cock. He’s stretching you out so deliciously. It burns in just the right way. Ransom may be longer, but Steve is definitely thicker.
After you get fully seated on him, you take a minute to adjust. It only takes a few seconds. You turn your head towards Ransom. “Okay, I’m ready.”
He removes his right hand from your shoulder and grabs the base of his cock and starts pressing against the tight ring of muscle. He’d been in there a lot over the weekend. But it was still a tight fit regardless. He doesn’t go as slow and sheaths himself to the hilt, causing you to moan out in slight pain and pleasure.
Holy fuck. You feel so full. You think you might die. That is until Ransom removes his cock until just the tip remains and then forcefully thrust back in, causing you to grind on Steve’s dick.
Steve grunts out from the movement and starts thrusting up into you the best he can from his position. Ransom wraps his left arm around you and continues his thrusts, not letting up his pace. You don’t even really have to move, the both of them doing it for you. They somehow find the perfect rhythm. Each of them pulling out and pushing in at the same time. One of your hands is behind you, resting on the back of Ransom’s head while the other is resting on Steve’s chest.
Steve sits up suddenly and pulls you in for a kiss. “Like being stuffed with both of our cocks, pretty girl?” You hear from behind you. “Yes. So good. So full. Gonna cum.”
Ransom removes his arm from around you and reaches down and starts circling your clit. “Do it. Cum all over us. Make a mess.”
Steve can feel you squeezing him. “Please, sweetheart. Need to feel you cum on my cock. You’re gripping me so good.”
You explode. You clamp your eyes shut, seeing stars behind your eyelids. You let the both of them fuck you through it.
Ransom’s hips stutter. The fluttering around his cock is too good. He cums with a shout of your name, filling up your ass to the brim. He gives you a few more thrusts before he pulls out and collapses beside you two.
Steve’s been patient while you come down from your high. He lays back down, pulling you with him so that your chest to chest. He bends his knees and grabs onto your hips. “You ready, sweetheart?” You raise up, both of your hands on each side of his head. You give him a nod.
That’s all he needs. He starts fucking you, hard and fast, chasing his release. He can feel it building. He just needs to feel you come undone around him again. He moves one of his hands and starts circling your clit with his thumb. “Need you to cum for me again, Y/N.”
You shake your head. “Can’t. Too much.”
Ransom sits up beside you. “I know what she needs.” He reaches over with his left hand and wraps it around your throat, squeezing gently.
It makes you clench down on Steve’s cock. “Yeah? That all you needed, sweetheart? A hand wrapped around your pretty throat? I know you like it. Can feel you squeezing me.” He picks up his pace. The only sounds that can be heard are his grunts, your breathy monas, and skin slapping against skin.
It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to hit you. This one is somehow even more intense than the last.
You must’ve blacked out for a few seconds because the next thing you know, you’re waking up in between Steve and Ransom.
Steve smiles down at you. “There she is. We lost you for a second, sweetheart.”
You feel drunk. You smile goofily up at him. “Did you cum?”
Just as you ask that, you can feel his release seeping out of your overused cunt. Then you feel cum leaking out of your ass. You hide your face behind your hands in embarrassment. “I can’t believe we just did that.”
Ransom removes one hand while Steve removes the other. “Nuh uh uh. No hiding allowed, pretty girl. I have no regrets.” He looks at Steve. “Do you?”
Steve smiles down at you and leans down to press a soft kiss against your lips. “None from me. You tired, sweetheart?”
You let out a big yawn and nod your head, slowly closing your eyes. “Get some rest, pretty girl.” That’s the last thing you hear before sleep takes you.
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You wake up sometime in the early morning, stretching out your sore limbs. You know you have a dumb smile on your face. But you can’t help but notice your empty bed.
You sit up and hiss at the deliciously sore feeling between your legs. You grab your robe and slip it on. You can smell coffee coming from the kitchen. You giddily make your way out of the room and down the hallway. They both barely just come into view, still unaware you’re there, when you hear Steve speak.
“I thought you were going to be an asshole to her? Make her see I’m not that bad.”
You hear Ransom next. “I was an asshole to her. I’m sorry I dicked her down so good that she wanted more.”
Steve scoffs. “I never gave you the okay to fuck her!”
“You also didn’t tell me it was off limits. Look you got what you wanted right?”
“No, actually I didn’t. I didn’t pay you so we could have a threesome together.”
What the fuck? Steve paid Ransom to help him get in your pants?
“Ok, how about this? I’ll give you all of your money back if I can fuck her one more time before I go? Then we’ll be squared away.”
Steve seems to be conflicted. “Fine! But this is the last time Ransom. I have to get to work anyway. After this, she’s mine. And make sure she’s not late for work herself.”
Before you have time to react, Steve rounds the corner and sees you standing there. He has a deer caught in headlights look. Ransom comes up beside him and sees you. “Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”
You slowly start backing up towards your bedroom. Steve moves towards you, stopping once you put your hands up. “Stay away from me! Both of you! I want nothing to do with either of you!”
Ransom moves past Steve and grabs onto your arms. “Oh, please. You’d fuck us again if we wanted. Wouldn’t you?”
You spit in his face. “Fuck you, Hugh.”
He gets a sinister look on his face. “Wrong move, pretty girl.” He looks toward Steve. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck the brat out of her. You better tell her boss she won’t be in today.”
Your eyes go wide at his words. You start thrashing against him, trying your best to get away. Steve has had enough. He comes over and yanks you away from him and presses you against the wall. “You better calm down, sweetheart. I’ll treat you like a princess if you can be my good girl. Can you do that?”
You shake your head. “Why would you think I’d want anything to do with you after finding out you paid someone to help get into my pants?”
He gives you an evil smirk. “Because if you don’t, I’ll just have to release the tape of last night on the internet. Let everyone see how much of a slut you actually are.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re bluffing.”
He smirks and turns his head towards Ransom. “Show her.”
Ransom gets his phone out of his pocket and swipes at the screen for a second before turning it in your direction.
Holy shit. They weren’t bluffing. There you were, getting fucked by the both of them. That would ruin you if it got out. Not only would you get fired, but your parents would probably disown you. You’d never have a normal relationship again. You’re fucked. Even more than you were last night. How had you not noticed they were recording it?
Ransom must have read your mind. “I set my phone up while you were busy with Steve’s fingers on your cunt and his tongue down your throat. I think you need to ask her again Steve.”
Steve grabs your chin and moves your gaze onto his face. “I’ll ask you again. Are you going to be my good girl? Let Ransom fuck you one more time and then it’ll just be me and you?”
You drop your gaze to the floor. You feel a tear run down your cheek as you whisper out, “I’ll be your good girl.”
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The Naked Thing
Hello! I was dying without air conditioning a few weeks ago and decided to make it Mando Smut Mandalorian/f!reader Rating: Explicit | No Warnings Word Count: ~2900
The Crest falls out of hyperspace too soon, and you go flying. Curling around Grogu in your arms, you twist in midair so that your back hits the console to avoid crushing him. A lever digs into your spine, and you curse loudly. That’s going to bruise. Oh well. What’s another?
“What the kriff, Mando?” you snarl. Grogu seems unbothered, blinking at you and probably learning way too many swear words for a child of his size.
Mando pulls himself off the control grid with a pained groan, helmet swiveling as he takes in the damage.
“The good news,” he begins after a moment, “is that we lost them.”
That is good news, you agree. You were lucky that the army of bounty hunters and ex-imps hadn’t kept track of you. If you had shaken them off your trail, then that would earn you a head start to a safer system.
“The bad news is that they shot out our hyperdrive.”
“Dank Farrik,” you curse again, then glance at Grogu. Maybe you should watch your mouth more?
“...And our temperature regulator and our heat shields.”
You decide that it is an appropriate time for as much foul language as you please.
“What does that mean?” you ask. You hadn’t grown up around ships -- spent the last dozen years on the same dead-end planet until Mando picked you up. The most you were good for was turning a knob or flipping a switch here and there. Usually you just kept an eye on Grogu while Mando did all the piloting and bounty hunting and whatnot.
“We’ll have to travel sublight, but we can’t land planet side because without the heat shields any atmosphere worth a damn would burn us up. Our only option is a New Republic Outpost. We’ll be able to land there, and we’ll be safe while they repair the Crest. I’ll chart us a course and let you know how long it should be.”
“You know,” you snap, “we wouldn’t be in this mess if you weren’t so scared of droids. If we had an astromech on board, then we could get the hyperdrive repaired without having to crawl our asses through deep space in the hopes that whoever picks us up doesn’t want us dead.”
Mando doesn’t say anything. You don’t know if your words meant anything at all to him because you can’t see shit behind his helmet. Huffing, you take Grogu down to the hold. Not long after, the engines fire up again.
It takes a few minutes to set in, but its quick enough to be noticeable. The ship is getting hotter. Like… unbearably warm.
You fill a canteen with water and make sure that you and Grogu are both hydrated. After a little bit of digging, you manage to find a portable air circulator. You and Grogu sit directly in front of the current, doing your best to keep cool.
Mando comes down after a little while, he cocks his helmet when he sees you.
“It’s hot,” you whine.
“The temperature regulator is shot too. We don’t have a way too cool the ship down or shield the heat of the engines.”
You sigh. “How long until we can get repairs?”
“34 hours. Will the kid be okay for that long?”
Grogu hasn’t outwardly complained about the heat, mostly just sitting in front of the circulator with his eyes closed and ears flapping, but you’ve been worried as well. “He’s kind of… amphibious,” you frown. “I’ll get him a basin of water to sit in and put him in the fresher with the circulator. That should keep him cooled off.”
Mando nods. “Thank you. Will you be okay?”
You shrug. There’s not much you can do. As long as you stay hydrated then you should be able to last 34 hours.
“Thank you,” he says again.
“For what?” All you’ve done is curse at him and berate him for not having an astromech droid.
“For looking out for him back there. You saved all of us with that droid popper. And the move with the cannon was impressive.”
You aren’t expecting genuine praise from Mando. It always felt as though you were dead weight to him. Through all the planets you’ve been on -- and been chased off of -- you’ve always felt useless.You can’t fly, you’re not the best shot, you can barely take care of his kid. It means a lot that he doesn’t actually hate you.
“I’m starting to get the hang of this,” you grin. You had never considered yourself a hero or adventurer, but you had commandeered a cannon and shot down three imperial fighters.
“I’ll be up in the cockpit if you need anything. Just knock.” And he’s gone.
‘Knock’ means that Mando is probably going to take his helmet and armor off, which means you also get a few hours of total privacy. You set Grogu up in the fresher with a basin of water and the circulator -- though it pains you to give up the weak, artificial breeze.
It’s only gotten hotter, and your already filthy clothes are starting to became unbearable. You had gotten splashed with gore and grime and who knows what in your escape, and it wasn’t pairing well with the heat onboard.
Stripping out of your clothes, you sprawl naked on the metal floor. It’s dusty, but slightly cool, and you plaster as much of your skin to the durasteel as you can manage.
Time passes with you systematically rolling across the floor of the hold to try and keep from baking. It’s bearable only because you know there will be an end. As long as the ship keeps chugging along towards the space outpost, then you will be saved.
The hatch to the cockpit opens, and you leap to your feet. Mando clambers down, jumping when he sees you.
“You’re naked,” he raises his hands -- his bare hands -- and backs against the ladder.
“You’re naked.” you point.
“I have a helmet and pants on,” he says. But that’s all he has on. His chest and arms are bare, and it’s more skin than you’ve ever seen before on the man.
“I’ve never seen you out of your armor. That has got to be more scandalous than me being naked.”
You must have made a point, because Mando doesn’t respond. Instead, you both just kind of… stand there. You can’t tear your eyes away from his chest and from the angle his helmet is pointed it seems he’s having a similar issue.
“Did you, uh, need anything?” you finally manage to ask. Your mouth is dry, and you take another uncoordinated drink from the canteen, shivering as some of the water spills down your chest.
Mando coughs. “I just wanted to make sure the kid is okay.”
“Oh,” you turn to open the fresher door just a crack. You had checked on him just a few minutes ago, and he still seems fine. After a moment of pause, Mando comes up behind you and you can feel the heat of his skin against your back.
Grogu is asleep, curled up just in front of the circulator and the basin of water so that the cool air blows over him. The fresher is several degrees cooler than the rest of the ship, and while it feels amazing, you don’t want to let the heat in.
“I’m going to go back up now,” Mando says quickly, and then he’s gone through the hatch once again.
You resume your circuit of laying on the floor, but it feels like the ship is only getting hotter.
That’s when you take to banging on the hatch to the cockpit. “Mando, I’m going to kick your ass! You had better get us to that outpost or find a way too cool this ship down! I spent years on Tatooine, and this is the hottest I have ever been in my entire life!”
“I can cut the engines to stop generating any heat, but then we’ll just be coasting through empty space and we’ll never make it to the outpost.”
You huff. “At this point you should just freeze me in carbonite.”
Mando does not freeze you in carbonite, but you do eventually make it to the New Republic outpost. They give the three of you a small dorm and Mando arranges for the Razor Crest to be repaired. You don’t have any credits between you, so you wonder what he offers in exchange.
You toss your gear into the room and head out to get food for everyone. You always enjoy being in New Republic space. No one is out to murder you or imprison you. The officers are usually nicer. Everyone likes the Skywalkers.
A friendly droid loads you up with several plates of food, and you stop to check out the holonet broadcasts on your way back. Things in this corner of the galaxy are a little hectic -- something you just witnessed firsthand -- but its less gloomy than it used to be.
Mando is sitting on the lower bunk when you get back. He’s back in his full armor, but you can read his posture pretty well. Grogu is playing in the corner, levitating some rocks you had found for him a few planets back. You set the tray down, fully intending to take your portion and eat out in the hall or in one of the communal sitting rooms. Before you can even turn away, Mando has already grabbed a plate of food and tugged his helmet off.
“WOAH,” you raise your hands in front of your face, ducking your head before you can see too much. Curly hair. Tan skin. Moustache. If there is one thing you’ve learned, it’s that Mando doesn’t let anyone see him without his helmet. It’s a cultural thing, and you respect that. “What is with you being naked today?”
Your eyes are open, but very pointedly looking at a wall nowhere near him. He shifts for a moment, and you wait for some kind of explanation.
“Look,” he finally begins, “we’ve been through a lot together at this point. I’ve traveled with you longer than anyone since I was a foundling with the watch. You’ve saved my life as well as Grogu’s many times, and we just survived one hell of a fight. Not to mention, I saw, um, all of you today. I figure it’s only fair.”
You’re touched. It’s an honor that Mando trusts you enough to remove his helmet. For as long as you have been travelling together, you’ve assumed that you care for him far more than he cares for you. “You don’t have to,” you say. “I don’t want you to feel obligated.”
“I trust you,” he repeats.
You turn to face him. His eyes are so soft. Tired and kind and the warmest brown. He stares at you, taking you in for the first time with his own eyes and not the visor in his helmet. It’s unreasonably intimate considering he was staring at you naked with the helmet on just 16 hours before.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re kind of cute?” you laugh and look away, smoothing your hands over your pants. There’s food in front of you, and you use that as a welcome distraction.
“I’ve never trusted anyone enough before now to see me.”
How can he just say things like that? You try to drown the rapid beating of your heart behind some kind of bitter vegetable.
Mando begins to eat as well, slowly and unsurely. He picks at a few different dishes before finally speaking again. “You’ve, uh- I mean… you’re beautiful as well.”
You laugh loudly at that. It’s so shy. This man had seen you overheated and completely naked lying on the floor of his ship. You roll your eyes and shoot him a wink. “Something you like in particular?”
Mando chokes, coughing for a minute before chugging down half a glass of green jelly juice. He finally regains his composure, but his voice is rough when he speaks again. “I’d say the best view was from behind.”
It’s the last thing you expect from him. He’s so shy and reserved and has always backed down from your defensive teasing. It’s a moment before you can pull yourself together. Still, you aren’t sure what to say. Instead, you cram some shredded raw crustacean in your mouth and hope you aren’t too flushed.
Mando offers to take the trays back. The dorm bathroom has a shower with running water and you intend to take full advantage. Grogu rolls a rock at your feet as you head into the bathroom, and you lightly kick it back to him. “Are you tired of putting up with us yet? You’ve been a baby longer than I’ve been alive. I bet we seem like idiots to you.”
Grogu, predictably, says nothing. He makes a raspberry noise with his lips and plops down into a sit.
The shower is one of the greatest gifts you’ve ever enjoyed in life. Hot water, high pressure, steam and soap. You take your time washing up and letting the jets work out all of the kinks in your muscles.
When you slide the stall door aside, Mando is standing at the sink. Helmetless. Shirtless.
He jumps slightly, staring at the floor as you step out of the shower.
“We have got to stop doing this naked thing,” you say. It doesn’t actually bother you. You like that Mando trusts you, and you’ve never been shy about being naked around others, but he’s too attractive and it drives you nuts.
“I rather enjoy it,” he manages to pull his gaze from the floor to shoot you a wink. Your pulse speeds up.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Mando,” you step forward. You’re still steaming from the shower and dripping wet. He’s never been this cheeky before, and you kind of enjoy it.
His gaze darkens, eyebrows rasing. He reaches out to grab your waist, pulling you in and pinning you against the sink. You gasp at the feeling of his skin on yours, leaning back as he crowds you against the basin.
“Grogu is napping,” he whispers.
“I think the shower will fit both of us,” you breathe.
He’s already working at the buckle of his pants, toeing out of his boots. You drag him back into the shower with you. The jets hit his back, and he melts a little. You wrap your hand around his cock, and he looks like he may collapse. His eyes flutter shut, one of his hands slamming against the wall by your head.
You lean in to brush your lips over his skin as you stroke his cock. You’d never even seen this man’s face before today, and now you’re kissing your way over his jaw and down his neck. His other hand grabs your ass, kneading the flesh and pulling you closer so your hips brush his.
Your thumb swipes over the tip of his cock, and he shudders. It happens so fast, you didn’t know he had spun you around until your cheek is against the shower wall. His hands are glue to your hips, digging into your ass and pulling you to him so he can grind his cock against your slick skin.
“Please,” you whine. You haven’t had sex with anyone since you began travelling with Mando, and opportunities to get yourself off come few and far between with three of you on the Crest. You’re desperately horny, and you’ve wanted to fuck this man since you found him in that godforsaken desert.
He lines himself up and drives his hips forward, sinking into you with one solid thrust. You bite your forearm to muffle your moans, panting as you try to get used to the sudden stretch.
“You good?” he asks, leaning forward to kiss your cheek.
“Move,” you say, demanding but desperate.
It takes a moment to find leverage in the tiny -- smaller than you first assumed -- shower stall, but Mando begins to fuck you at a steady pace. You reach down to rub your clit, clenching around him. You’re going to finish quicker than you’re used to -- probably because you’ve been turned on since you saw Mando shirtless on the crest.
From the way Mando’s hips twitch and his rhythm falters, you guess that he’s close to coming as well.
His hands are everywhere. Your hips, your ass, trailing over your stomach and and reaching up to squeeze your breasts. His fingers brush your throat and you nearly come from the touch alone. He feels the way you tighten around his cock and places a hand on your neck, squeezing your jaw between his thumb and forefinger.
You come so hard your knees give out and your vision goes white. Mando keeps you from collapsing in a bruised heap on the shower floor by simply continuing to fuck you until he comes as well.
It’s not a lot of space, so you’re slumped together under the spray of the water. You manage to wipe yourself clean in a few swipes and stagger back out so Mando can actually wash up. He’s much quicker than you were, and he’s out of the shower by the time you’ve finished rubbing scented moisturizer over your skin. The New Republic sure knew how to treat their guests.
“I think we should definitely keep doing the naked thing,” he grins.
#the mandalorian#Mandalorian/reader#the mandalorian/reader#mandalorian x reader#mandalorian#din djarin#din djarin x reader#din djarin/reader#grogu#smut#lemons
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can you give me muggle jily recs pleaaseeee <3 :D
HOW MANY HIGH-QUALITY MUGGLE JILY FICS ARE THERE?? TOO MANY TO COUNT. *cracks knuckles* BUT I am here for the challenge. Jily AUs are my JAM.
Again, shoutout to our amazing @jilyarchive friends who tag every wonderful muggle jily au they come across. here is the link that will take you to their tags page. You'll find links to specific tropes and AUs :')
I've searched through my own AO3 bookmarks and history tabs, and I present to you 28 jily muggle fics that I LOVE. I am THRILLED thinking about all the good things in store for those that read these wonderful stories. This list took me ages to make because I went through and reread most of these brilliant fics. Happy reading !! xx
properly improper by @lizardcookie
“Marry me,” Mr. Potter repeats, closing the distance between them by striding back up towards the sofa, only to stop and crouch to one knee right there at her feet, looking up at her. Burning. “Pick me,” he elaborates. “Pick me, choose me, love me instead.”
- this fic is the reason why I comment the way that I do (spoiler it's because it's amazing)
The Wedding Ring by @mppmaraudergirl
What is undeniably worse than attending your sister's wedding looking as desolate and forgotten as a wilted houseplant? Drunkenly ringing your ex-boyfriend and asking him to be your date.
- SOBS UNCONTROLLABLY AT THE PERFECTION
Oh my god, they were ROOMMATES by @magic-girl-in-a-muggle-world
Silly one-shot, Muggle AU with Fem!Jily as pining roommates and Marlene as their matchmaker.
- the fic that brought me back to jily and inspired my deep obsession of fem!jily
Swipe Right, Swing Left by @downn-in-flames
The unspoken rule of using dating apps in D.C. is that you always start with where you work.
James Potter, it seems, never picked up on that one.
- giddy just thinking about this gem
'Tis the Damn Season by @petalstofish
It doesn't feel like Christmas for Lily Evans, not after losing her parents to COVID before the Holiday season. She anticipates spending Christmas all alone until a boy from her past shows up and offers her a mutually benefiting deal that has her calling him 'babe' just for the weekend. 'Tis the damn season, after all.
- cries in respect for lyrical writing
Watch Me Unwind by @maraudersftw
Lily Evans hates her job, hates the bigoted customers she has to serve as a bartender at the richest club in the city. But the one person who makes bearing all of it worth it has someone else in his arms tonight. (Rated: M)
- obsessed with the way the plot jumps around the time line in this
oil be there for you by @abby10fanfic
Texting/Social Media AU: Lily and James haven't spoken for 2 years. But that's all about to change thanks to Peter and his involvement in an essential oil pyramid scheme. Featuring boss babes, toxin-free lifestyles, binding contracts, and a very oily journey.
- YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE HOW FAB THIS IS
a matchmaking mission by @downn-in-flames
James Potter has a mission: get Sirius Black and Remus Lupin to finally admit that they both fancy the pants off each other by Valentine's Day.
His partner in crime? Lily Evans, Remus' flatmate, who he also happens to be slightly in love with
- DOUBLE the amount of pining idiots in love :")
about time by @jilyss
'sure, yeah, I can accompany you to that black tie event for your work tonight. wait. why are we on a red carpet?'
- this is my emotional comfort fic, your honor
whiskey business by @elanev91
Sirius Black has a (bad?) habit of picking up hobbies that take over his and James' flat -- this most recent one? Homemade vodka that James now has to try and peddle to everyone in the building.
- hysterical! must read!
Fashion Disaster by @maraudersftw
James Potter is roped into an awful dare by his best-mate, which involves him wearing atrocious pieces of clothing for all days until Christmas as dictated by Sirius. If this wasn't terrible enough, he now has to contend with his maddening crush on the beautiful saleswoman at the clothing store.
- classic hijinks that I live for
it wasn't a pity invite by @elanev91
Part of the December "Winter Tropes" Jily challenge. Prompt: my family invites you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and omG i’m so sorry
- awkward Christmas date that owns my heart
spice and honey by @clare-with-no-i
tagging along with her food reporter sister to profile James Potter, London's hottest young chef, is not how Lily Evans pictured her Monday going - especially if he's anything like Petunia’s described.
needless to say, she's in for a whirlwind at Chez Maraudeur.
- I'm one re-read away from printing this out and putting it on my bookshelf.
Waffle Wars by @elanev91
There's only one waffle maker in the dining hall and it literally always breaks. So, naturally, the only reasonable course of action is to meticulously map out when it's working and, ultimately, do a heist.
- the witty narration in this fic can not be matched
You Can Hear It In The Silence by @alrightginger
Lily is non-verbal and deaf in a world where the things your soulmate says about you end up written on your skin. She has known about her soulmate since she was seven, but knows they don't have a clue she exists and possibly never will.
- exquisite, cue me sobbing forever
out the window by @displayheartcode
A new family moves to Ottery St Catchpole.
- everything I could ever want in a fic, forever in my mind rent free
The Christmas Guest by @thegodmachine
An Evans Family Christmas: Petunia is bringing her fiancé and Lily is bringing her…Friend…
- petunia pov that gives me WINGS
Football, Calculus, and Cappuccinos by @moonawrites
At eighteen years old, James Potter has a lot going on. He's a rising star navigating the politics of professional football, the pitfalls of sudden fame, the fallout from choosing his dream over his father's company... and a serious crush on the red headed new barista at his favourite coffee shop.
- I'm still working my way through this fic, but trust me when I say its a GEM
if u like pina coladas by @zephyrcove
Lily is desperate for a date to Petunia's wedding, James has been pining, and their friends meddle ;)
- explain to me how characters can be so perfect via texting fics?
Shelf Awareness by @ghostofbambifanfiction
It's too far out of her way and she's wasting so much money, but Lily can't help but return to the bookstore every weekend, where her passion for good literature has, perhaps, been unexpectedly reignited by the messy-haired, pun-making, rather handsome bloke who works there.
- you absolutely must know that I binge read this and then immediately REREAD it
How to win a witch in 10 days by @adenei
“She’s going to find some unsuspecting wizard, get him to fall for her, and then do all the things that turn men away to get him to break things off! Won’t it be the best way to see what witches do that drives men crazy?” But what happens when the man in question is a blast from Lily Evans's past? A Jily Magical AU based on the romantic comedy "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days."
- fic based off of a rom com? YES PLZ :’)
The Fight Before Christmas by @ghostofbambifanfiction
The heartwarming Christmas tale of Lily Evans and James Potter - two plucky kids who hated one other, until the day they really, really didn't.
- complete sucker for this one
All This Time by @thejilyship
James and Lily grew up next door to one another. Their bedroom windows giving them glimpses into the others life, and also offering prime opportunities to argue with each other over every little thing. They never figured out how to be friends when they were kids, but now that they've graduated from college and are home for the summer, they have a second chance to get things right.
- one of my favvvv tropes
Let Me Love You by @thejilyship
With only a month until she's set to take the throne of Gryffindor, Lily is informed that she'll have to get married or choose to give up her throne. She never thought she'd have to even entertain the idea of an arranged marriage. Enter, James Potter.
- cries in princess diares AU
The Fabulous Baker Brothers by @frustratedpoetwrites
Lily walks a different route home from work and stumbles upon a cute little Bakery with an even cuter baker in the window.
- yes yes yes to embarrassed pining.
Marigold Mornings by @mppmaraudergirl
This is a fun game she thinks, as she removes her hand from his side and reaches up to run it down his chest. He catches her hand in his own, takes a step forward so that her nose nearly brushes against his shirt. She can feel the heat radiating off of him—or maybe it’s from her. He licks his lips and her eyes are drawn to the motion. She knows it is a bad idea, absolutely knows it.
- incredible storytelling featuring dynamic characters :') a favvv
Welcome to Pettyville by@women-inthe-sequel @alrightginger
When Lily Evans accidentally sends a text to the wrong number, she isn’t expecting to find the right person behind it. She can’t stop talking to Prongs. The only thing is, Prongs can’t stop talking about the girl in his class. What could go wrong, other than the number?
- LOVE SQUARE ANYONE
The Kiss a Stranger Project by @alrightginger
“What’s your name, then?” she asks, realizing they haven’t even properly introduced themselves yet. She nervously crosses her arms.
You shouldn’t kiss a guy without knowing his name first.
Right?
- THIS ONE WILL LIVE IN MY MIND FOREVER
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falling into you (pt. 8) PREVIEW
pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7
→scenario: Jungkook’s innocence is like a breath of fresh air in your wild life, and though you know you’re toxic for him, you just can’t seem to stay away.
→genre: college au, slow burn, mutual pining, shy/nerd jk + bad girl oc (mature themes)
→a/n: so i’m not finished with pt 8 yet, since it’s such a climactic chapter it’s taking a bit longer than i anticipated unfortunately BUT i dont want u guys to think ive forgotten about it!!! i know u all are waiting so patiently, and i cannot thank you enough from the bottom of my heart <3 i hope this preview keeps you excited for what’s to come!
Jungkook could never face Y/N again.
God, how could he, knowing that he’d not only finished in five minutes like a pubescent teenager, but also in his pants while she was on top of him?
Embarrassment didn’t even begin to describe the mortification he felt. He’d never wanted the earth to swallow him whole as much as he did in that moment. Sure, he was aware of his slight social anxiety, the way he was constantly looking to bolt from uncomfortable situations—but this was different entirely. This was new territory for him; he’d never done anything remotely sexual with someone else, period, much less with the girl who hung the stars, moon, and sun in his eyes. What was he supposed to do? There was nowhere to escape to in his own bedroom, no running away from his problems that made him uncomfortable. No, he had to stand there with his head down and his crotch dripping wet while he practically begged her to leave. He had never been so ashamed of himself. He had never felt so pathetic.
But then Y/N surprised him like she never failed to do: she’d given him reassurance, another kiss even, while telling him that she actually enjoyed the experience—went so far as to say it was the best in her life. Now he knew she was lying to spare his feelings. Of all the men Y/N had been with, there was no way a virgin cumming untouched in his pants was the best of them. She was cruel to make him believe otherwise, to give him false hope.
He wouldn’t allow himself to think any differently. He couldn’t allow himself to get hurt.
Which was why he made it his mission to avoid her at all costs—something he’d gotten very good at over the past few months, and the past few weeks, specifically.
But in the same way he’d learned from the patterns of her daily routine and used them as a means to remain hidden, she’d also learned his and utilized them to her advantage as well. It was the only explanation as to how he was turning a corner inside the art building (about to take the rear exit, since she usually waited for him out front) and suddenly she was standing right in front of him.
He instantly skidded to a halt, heart rate shooting to astronomical levels and eyes widening on their own accord. “Y-Y/N,” he stuttered out involuntarily, the sight of her causing every single detail of their time spent together to come rushing back to him like a tidal wave ready to wipe him out.
As if he needed another excuse to think about the moment they shared that had changed him forever, about the way her moans sounded in his ear and her body felt on his lap and the way she touched his cheek, his neck, the way her lips felt on his skin, god help him—
Already he could feel the beginnings of a blush start to rise to his suddenly hot cheeks, and he cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other to keep from springing yet another boner in front of her.
He slid his books in front of his waist, just in case.
While she usually approached him with the natural ease of self-confidence and charm, today she seemed worried, unsure. She chewed at her lower lip—something he didn’t think she really ever did, as he would certainly remember the way it stirred within him—and looked up at him beneath delicate lashes that framed her eyes.
He didn’t have it in him to keep from outright staring at her beauty.
“I… I missed you,” she finally murmured, and he felt the breath physically whoosh from his lungs to join his butterfly-filled stomach all the way at the floor.
It had been a few days since he’d last seen her, since she’d been in his room that night where they opened up about their past and confessed how they truly felt about one another and shared the most life-altering moment he’d ever experienced. He missed her too, god he missed her. He missed everything about her the moment she left his side—would picture her face in his mind as soon as she left his field of vision. But for some reason unknown to him, she was too kind to him, spared his feelings despite knowing what little experience he had. There was no way he’d be able to satisfy a girl—mentally, physically, emotionally—who could have anyone she wanted. Perhaps she pitied him. Either way, if she wouldn’t put a stop to it, then he would.
Or so he’d try, but alas, nothing ever went according to his plans where Y/N was concerned. And here she was, three simple words mumbled into existence and he couldn’t even remember his own name, much less why he’d been trying to fight this.
She seemed to expect he would say nothing—either that or she’d grown used to his silence—because before he had enough sense in him to even think about responding, she was speaking again. “How have you been?”
The question was asked with deliberate, genuine curiosity and concern; she really wanted to know if he was okay, how he was handling things after what had transpired between them. And no matter how hard Jungkook tried to fight this, fight her, fight himself, he was only human.
And so he stopped fighting.
“I– I missed you too,” he breathed out, and it was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and relocated to his gut. He tensed at his confession, mentally berated himself for his words even though she’d been the one to say them first. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, what with the way his throat locked up.
Though the second he witnessed the smile that sprang to her tantalizing lips, he felt as light as a feather floating in the breeze.
“You did?” Her eyes lit up, sparkled under the fluorescent hallway lights that still managed to capture all of her beauty despite the unflattering lighting. He didn’t think it was possible for any scenery, not even that of a dull and stuffy university building, to make her appear any less breathtaking than she always was.
“I was so worried after I left last week,” she continued without prompt. The mention of his premature finish had him stiffening in dread, though she didn’t let enough silence fester between her words for the anxiety to claw its way up his throat. “I didn’t want you to beat yourself up. I’ve noticed you tend to be too hard on yourself sometimes.” She glanced up at him with the hint of a sheepish grin dancing on her lips.
Her expression said it all: that’s an understatement.
And this shocked him to his core, because she was absolutely right.
Just how well had she gotten to know him in their time spent together over the last few months? And how? And why?
The last question would always boggle him until the end of time; he would never understand why she was interested in him. Why was he the one she had feelings for, when she claimed she never had feelings for anybody? Though he supposed he could ask himself the same thing: why did he feel things for Y/N that he had never felt for anyone else in his life? And the answer was quite simple, really: because it was her.
He didn’t know what about himself was so special to make him stand out in her mind, and as a result he still couldn’t help but be skeptical, even after her confession. But it wasn’t like he had any choice in the matter on what to do with that skepticism—not when his heart kept leading him back to her.
At some point after her accurate description of the inner turmoil that’s been plaguing his mind, his mouth had fallen open slightly. He couldn’t hide the surprise from his face even if he tried; he was speechless.
Y/N gazed up at him, not seeming in any hurry to rush the conversation along, and for that he was grateful. He’d never met somebody so patient and understanding before—just another reason to make Jungkook’s heart flutter with endearment. And it was no secret to himself anymore that he yearned to be in Y/N’s presence for as long as possible whether he was aware of it or not.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know,” she continued as if she could read his mind, and that was when he realized the way his eyes avoided hers and the fact that his skin was the color of tomatoes must’ve been dead giveaways. “I meant it when I said that was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.”
Jungkook balked, practically choking on his spit at her forward, shameless words. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way she spoke her mind so openly without any fear holding her back. She’d gone through so much in her childhood, in her life—Jungkook not even knowing the half of it, he’s sure—and yet she was still so strong and brave and everything he wasn’t. He couldn’t help but admire the person she was today, despite all the prejudice and judgment he’d held for her when they first met.
He realized now that he was too quick to judge her, to write her off based on rumors and first impressions. He realized now that he was too quick to do that to a lot of people. Just how long had he closed himself off from others based on his skewed, morally righteous perspective? His whole life, if he had to say.
The epiphany that she was physically prying open his third eye with a crowbar, that he was now self aware and changing for the better for her—for himself—hit him all at once.
It was the most frightening sensation of his life, the introvert in him wanting to crawl back into his shell where it was safe and comfortable and dull. But deep down he knew it was also for the best.
“W-why?” He heard himself asking before he knew what he was doing. “Why do you keep saying that?”
He had to know why she insisted on standing by her statement that his mishap was not only hot, but the hottest ever. Why did she insist on lying to him, on giving him false hope? She spoke her mind in every other situation, or at least that’s what he assumed; why did she insist on sparing his feelings in this incident? Was he really that pathetic? Did she pity him that much?
She simply blinked at him once, twice, before: “Because I really like you, Jungkook.”
As if in slow motion, you could visibly see his eyes expand to the size of saucers at your words.
You would’ve found the sight comical had the situation been any different. But the way he continued to disbelieve that you could have feelings for him, that you could be attracted to everything about him despite who he was, despite his inexperience—it made your heart break in your chest. You now knew from where this inferiority complex stemmed—he’d told you himself about his family situation—and if anything, it made you want to rebuild his confidence that much more. He needed to see himself the way you saw him.
But you also didn’t want to overwhelm him, either. And you were more than willing to walk that fine line with Jungkook no matter how long it took.
“So are we on for a study sesh tonight?” You continued nonchalantly, wanting to return things to normalcy for him as much as possible before he ran away mid-conversation as he’d done so many times before. You wanted to ease his self-doubt so he’d stop avoiding you—like he’d been doing the past few days—as much as possible.
Jungkook blinked as if trying to adjust from the whiplash of your subject-change. “U–uh… if you want?”
“Of course I want to,” you replied without missing a beat, not caring how desperate you seemed so long as he didn’t question where you stood. You took a step forward, unable to help the intangible, magnetic draw you felt to him as you gazed up at him beneath your lashes. “That is… if you want to.”
You watched in agony as a gulp slowly raked its way down his throat.
“I–” his voice was hoarse before he cleared his throat. “I uh, can’t tonight. I have to study for math.”
You weren’t even sure how one studied for math, but you weren’t about to question the expert. “That’s fine! We could… do it tomorrow?”
Jungkook chewed at his bottom lip, an action he always did when he was internally struggling with something before he finally nodded his head yes in a slow, hesitant manner. “N–not in my room though,” he added as an afterthought, and when your gaze snapped to his he had a pleading expression in his eyes.
A mix of emotions rolled through you. On one hand, you were horrified at the possibility that he thought the only reason you wanted to study again was so that you could get in his pants. Which—okay, you’re not going to lie, you would love to have a repeat of last week—but that definitely wasn’t why you wanted to see him. He meant more to you than just a means to get off, which was what you’d thought of flings in the past. You didn’t want him to be just a fling, though.
You didn’t want to think of the meaning behind that fact right now, either.
But on another hand, you understood where Jungkook was coming from. Maybe it was because you’d studied him enough over the past few months to learn some of his behavior (for once you finally saw the appeal of studying), so you knew that level of intimacy was probably extremely overwhelming for Jungkook and he needed a moment to step back. Hell, it was even overwhelming for you, and that was saying something. Never had your senses, your heart, your body, your soul been attacked like that with such an abundance of emotional pleasure, and you hoped with all your might that Jungkook was feeling the same—that that was the reason he needed a breather from being alone with you, and not the fact that he just didn’t want to be intimate with you.
Unless…
Oh god, had you misread the situation entirely? Had Jungkook hated everything about that night?
Suddenly you were feeling sick to your stomach. The thought of you misunderstanding his confession—or worse, him changing his mind completely—made you want to escape to a dark and desolate stairwell and cry in the hidden nooks of the windowsill again; the irony that not only would you be pulling a Jungkook by escaping mid-conversation, but that the stairwell was also the place the two of you had your first real conversation, wasn’t lost on you.
“M–my roommate is staying in, studying for finals.” The sound of Jungkook’s voice was like a breath of fresh air whooshing into your lungs after almost drowning underwater. You blinked out of your inner turmoil, focusing on him. “So he’ll be there, i–in my room, this whole week.”
And suddenly your heart was warming with relief, hope, appreciation, like flowers blooming in the spring after a torrential downpour. Just when you thought you had him figured out, this enigma of a boy continued to surprise you. It was usually easy for you to hide your emotions—you’d been doing so for years, always wore a mask around others so that they couldn’t see the real you—and yet somehow, Jungkook must’ve sensed them anyway. He sensed the doubt, the pain, the fear that you vowed never to cage you crawling up your throat and threatening to consume you whole, and he eased it. He didn’t want you to misunderstand him. He wanted to reassure you.
If anything, that was just a testament to how Jungkook had broken down your walls—how much you had let him in, how well he was able to read the emotions you wanted to keep hidden. Your mask had begun to break, the real you showing through the cracks, and Jungkook was still standing here. He hadn’t run away.
You fought the urge to grab him and slam your lips onto his.
“Not in your room, then,” is all you managed to breathe out beneath a fluttering smile.
#jungkook fanfic#jungkook x reader#jungkook smut#bts fanfic#bts smut#jungkook scenario#bts x reader#bts scenario#i hope this is good enough for the time being!!! im sorry its taking me so long to get pt 8 posted#u guys are the best i love u <3333
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In Focus: The Mummy
Dominic Corry responds on behalf of Letterboxd to an impassioned plea to bump up the average rating of the 1999 version of The Mummy—and asks: where is the next great action adventure coming from?
We recently received the following email regarding the Stephen Sommers blockbuster The Mummy:
To whom it may concern,
I am writing to you on behalf of the nation, if not the entire globe, who frankly deserve better than this after months of suffering with the Covid pandemic.
I was recently made aware that the rating of The Mummy on your platform only stands at 3.3 stars out of five. … This, as I’m sure you’re aware, is simply unacceptable. The Mummy is, as a statement of fact, the greatest film ever made. It is simply fallacious that anyone should claim otherwise, or that the rating should fail to reflect this. This oversight cannot be allowed to stand.
I have my suspicions that this rating has been falsely allocated due to people with personal axes to grind against The Mummy, most likely other directors who are simply jealous that their own artistic oeuvres will never attain the zenith of perfection, nor indeed come close to approaching the quality or the cultural influence of The Mummy. There is, quite frankly, no other explanation. The Mummy is, objectively speaking, a five-star film (… I would argue that it in fact transcends the rating sytem used by us mere mortals). It would only be proper, as a matter of urgency, to remove all fake ratings (i.e. any ratings [below] five stars) and allow The Mummy’s rating to stand, as it should, at five stars, or perhaps to replace the rating altogether with a simple banner which reads “the greatest film of all time, objectively speaking”. I look forward to this grievous error being remedied.
Best, Anwen
Which of course: no, we would never do that. But the vigor Anwen expresses in her letter impressed us (we checked: she’s real, though is mostly a Letterboxd lurker due to a busy day-job in television production, “so finding time to watch anything that isn’t The Mummy is, frankly, impossible… not that there’s ever any need to watch anything else, of course.”).
So Letterboxd put me, Stephen Sommers fan, on the job of paying homage to the last great old-school action-adventure blockbuster, a film that straddles the end of one cinematic era and the beginning of the next one. And also to ask: where’s the next great action adventure coming from?
Brendan Fraser, Rachel Weisz and John Hannah in ‘The Mummy’ (1999).
When you delve into the Letterboxd reviews of The Mummy, it quickly becomes clear how widely beloved the film is, 3.3 average notwithstanding. Of more concern to the less youthful among us is how quaintly it is perceived, as if it harkens back to the dawn of cinema or something. “God, I miss good old-fashioned adventure movies,” bemoans Holly-Beth. “I have so many fond memories of watching this on TV with my family countless times growing up,” recalls Jess. “A childhood classic,” notes Simon.
As alarming as it is to see such wistful nostalgia for what was a cutting-edge, special-effects-laden contemporary popcorn hit, it has been twenty-one years since the film was released, so anyone currently in their early 30s would’ve encountered the film at just the right age for it to imprint deeply in their hearts. This has helped make it a Raiders of the Lost Ark for a specific Letterboxd demographic.
Sommers took plenty of inspiration from the Indiana Jones series for his take on The Mummy (the original 1932 film, also with a 3.3 average, is famously sedate), but for ten-year-olds in 1999, it may have been their only exposure to such pulpy derring-do. And when you consider that popcorn cinema would soon be taken over by interconnected on-screen universes populated by spandex-clad superheroes, the idea that The Mummy is an old-fashioned movie is easier to comprehend.
However, for all its throwbackiness, beholding The Mummy from the perspective of 2020 reveals it to have more to say about the future of cinema than the past. 1999 was a big year for movies, often considered one of the all-time best, but the legacy of The Mummy ties it most directly to two of that year’s other biggest hits: Star Wars: Episode One—The Phantom Menace and The Matrix. These three blockbusters represented a turning point for the biggest technological advancement to hit the cinematic art-form since the introduction of sound: computer-generated imagery, aka CGI. The technique had been widely used from 1989’s The Abyss onwards, and took significant leaps forward with movies such as Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991), Jurassic Park (1993) and Starship Troopers (1997), but the three 1999 films mentioned above signified a move into the era when blockbusters began to be defined by their CGI.
A year before The Mummy, Sommers had creatively utilised CGI in his criminally underrated sci-fi action thriller Deep Rising (another film that deserves a higher average Letterboxd rating, just sayin’), and he took this approach to the next level with The Mummy. While some of the CGI in The Mummy doesn’t hold up as well as the technopunk visuals presented in The Matrix, The Mummy showed how effective the technique could be in an historical setting—the expansiveness of ancient Egypt depicted in the movie is magnificent, and the iconic rendering of Imhotep’s face in the sand storm proved to be an enduringly creepy image. Not to mention those scuttling scarab beetles.
George Lucas wanted to test the boundaries of the technique with his insanely anticipated new Star Wars film after dipping his toe in the digital water with the special editions of the original trilogy. Beyond set expansions and environments, a bunch of big creatures and cool spaceships, his biggest gambit was Jar Jar Binks, a major character rendered entirely through CGI. And we all know how that turned out.
A CGI-enhanced Arnold Vosloo as Imhotep.
Sommers arguably presented a much more effective CGI character in the slowly regenerating resurrected Imhotep. Jar Jar’s design was “bigger” than the actor playing him on set, Ahmed Best. Which is to say, Jar Jar took up more space on screen than Best. But with the zombie-ish Imhotep, Sommers (ably assisted by Industrial Light & Magic, who also worked on the Star Wars films) used CGI to create negative space, an effect impossible to achieve with practical make-up—large parts of the character were missing. It was an indelible visual concept that has been recreated many times since, but Sommers pioneered its usage here, and it contributed greatly to the popcorn horror threat posed by the character.
Sommers, generally an unfairly overlooked master of fun popcorn spectacle (G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra is good, guys), deserves more credit for how he creatively utilized CGI to elevate the storytelling in The Mummy. But CGI isn’t the main reason the film works—it’s a spry, light-on-its-feet adventure that presents an iconic horror property in an entertaining and adventurous new light. And it happens to feature a ridiculously attractive cast all captured just as their pulchritudinous powers were peaking.
Meme-worthy: “My sexual orientation is the cast of ‘The Mummy’ (1999).”
A rising star at the time, Brendan Fraser was mostly known for comedic performances, and although he’d proven himself very capable with his shirt off in George of the Jungle (1997), he wasn’t necessarily at the top of anyone’s list for action-hero roles. But he is superlatively charming as dashing American adventurer Rick O’Connell. His fizzy chemistry with Weisz, playing the brilliant-but-clumsy Egyptologist Evie Carnahan, makes the film a legitimate romantic caper. The role proved to be a breakout for Weisz, then perhaps best known for playing opposite Keanu Reeves in the trouble-plagued action flop Chain Reaction, or for her supporting role in the Liv Tyler vehicle Stealing Beauty.
“90s Brendan Fraser is what Chris Pratt wishes he was,” argues Holly-Beth. “Please come back to us, Brendaddy. We need you.” begs Joshhh. “I’d like to thank Rachel Weisz for playing an integral role in my sexual awakening,” offers Sree.
Then there’s Oded Fehr as Ardeth Bey, a member of the Medjai, a sect dedicated to preventing Imhotep’s tomb from being discovered, and Patricia Velásquez as Anck-su-namun, Imhotep’s cursed lover. Both stupidly good-looking. Heck, Imhotep himself (South African Arnold Vosloo, coming across as Billy Zane’s more rugged brother), is one of the hottest horror villains in the history of cinema.
“Remember when studio movies were sexy?” laments Colin McLaughlin. We do Colin, we do.
Sommers directed a somewhat bloated sequel, The Mummy Returns, in 2001, which featured the cinematic debut of one Dwayne Johnson. His character got a spin-off movie the following year (The Scorpion King), which generated a bunch of DTV sequels of its own, and is now the subject of a Johnson-produced reboot. Brendan Fraser came back for a third film in 2008, the Rob Cohen-directed The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor. Weisz declined to participate, and was replaced by Maria Bello.
Despite all the follow-ups, and the enduring love for the first Sommers film, there has been a sadly significant dearth of movies along these lines in the two decades since it was released. The less said about 2017 reboot The Mummy (which was supposed to kick-off a new Universal Monster shared cinematic universe, and took a contemporary, action-heavy approach to the property), the better.
The Rock in ‘The Mummy Returns’ (2001).
For a long time, adventure films were Hollywood’s bread and butter, but they’re surprisingly thin on the ground these days. So it makes a certain amount of sense that nostalgia for the 1999 The Mummy continues to grow. You could argue that many of the superhero films that dominate multiplexes count as adventure movies, but nobody really sees them that way—they are their own genre.
There are, however, a couple of films on the horizon that could help bring back old-school cinematic adventure. One is the long-planned—and finally actually shot—adaptation of the Uncharted video-game franchise, starring Tom Holland. The games borrow a lot from the Indiana Jones films, and it’ll be interesting to see how much that manifests in the adaptation.
Then there’s Letterboxd favorite David Lowery’s forever-upcoming medieval adventure drama The Green Knight, starring Dev Patel and Alicia Vikander (who herself recently rebooted another video-game icon, Lara Croft). Plus they are still threatening to make another Indiana Jones movie, even if it no longer looks like Steven Spielberg will direct it.
While these are all exciting projects—and notwithstanding the current crisis in the multiplexes—it can’t help but feel like we may never again get a movie quite like The Mummy, with its unlikely combination of eye-popping CGI, old-fashioned adventure tropes and a once-in-a-lifetime ensemble of overflowing hotness. Long may love for it reign on Letterboxd—let’s see if we can’t get that average rating up, the old fashioned way. For Anwen.
Related content
How I Letterboxd with The Mummy fan Eve (“The first film I went out and bought memorabilia for… it was a Mummy action figure that included canopic jars”)
The Mummy (Universal) Collection
Every film featuring the Mummy (not mummies in general)
Follow Dom on Letterboxd
#the mummy#brendan fraser#stephen sommers#action adventure#fantasy adventure#action adventure film#the green knight#david lowery#dominic corry#letterboxd
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oh all of this silence and patience (oh im pining in anticipation)
listen it’s still august in some timezones so this totally counts as posting something in august okay? okay! i hope people like this, it took me far too long to finish, but also special shoutout to the wonderful @ourstarscollided who really helped me with the whole first section of this fic, without her i truly would still be working on it, so thank you eunice, you’re the best!💜 okay enjoy!
the first firefighter!luke fic for anyone who wants to read that first, though it can be read alone: ao3 / tumblr
also on ao3!
lil disclaimer: i’m still not a firefighter and i also know that they dont use fire poles anymore but lets just ✨pretend✨ for the visual okay. this takes place between part 4 and 5 in the original fic!
trigger warnings! lots of swearing, implied sexual content.
RATED T –– there’s no graphic scenes but there’s a lot of kissing and fading to black, so rating might change if anyone needs me to 😬
Word count: 6,072
“Look who it is!”
Julie feels a grin pull up on the corners of her mouth as she spots Luke’s station captain coming around the end of one of the fire trucks Julie is walking between, sending her a wave of the clipboard she’s holding. “You’re here early.”
“Yeah, class ended early and I thought I'd pop over to see if I could get some extra time with Luke,” Julie shrugs, holding up the pale grey burlap bag that Alex had packed their food into.
And there’s a sympathetic look that crosses over Harrison’s face, because she knows that the younger woman knows she’s in charge of Luke’s shifts and the reason why Julie comes over every Tuesday to have lunch with her boyfriend.
Because that’s why she was here. To have lunch with him like she did every Tuesday between her classes and when the fires of LA would allow. Sometimes Alex would text her to stop by to pick up a packed lunch for them, sometimes she made something herself, sometimes they just ordered in. The food wasn’t really the point, it was just getting to spend some time together. Julie had never really thought about it before, but there was always something, someone, somewhere, trapped or hurt or on fire. Luke was a very busy person, and it meant sometimes their lunches got interrupted by blaring alarms and him pressing a quick kiss to her lips before rushing off.
Tuesdays were apparently very busy days for a firefighter.
“What’s the master chef prepared for you this week then?” Harrison asks, crossing her arms and clipboard across her chest and lifting one brow, “Y’know Alex used to cook for us, he’d send Luke in every Saturday he was on shift with all sorts of goodies.”
Julie bites her lip to try not to laugh at the exaggerated sigh that leaves the older woman's lips as she shakes her head sadly. There was something about Vivian Harrison that just— put people at ease. The first time Julie had officially met her there had been a warm hug and teasing remarks and there was just something that had viscerally reminding Julie of her aunt Victoria that it was kind of impossible not to like the station captain after that.
“He was pretty busy so it’s just some sandwiches,” she wrinkles her nose a little before smiling, “I’ll tell him how much you’re missing his cooking though, I’m sure the blame will fall completely on Luke.”
Harrison laughs, and tilts her head slightly as she shrugs, “That boy of yours is just very easy to blame.”
She feels a sudden flush to her cheeks at ‘that boy of yours’ that she hopes can be played off by how warm it always is in the station. She can see Harrison’s lips twitching, like she’s about to say something teasing, but Julie is saved from it by two people walking past them and a change of mind.
“Morales, can you tell Patterson his lunch is here.”
“Sure thing Cap,” one of the guys says, shooting her a wide smile that Julie feels compelled to return quickly before he’s rushing off, past the fire engines and up some stairs. And Julie’s about to ask Harrison if they’ve been busy today and if she’d found time to visit the farmers market they’d talked about last time, but another voice interrupts, and Julie hadn’t even realised the other guy hadn’t followed his friend.
“So you’re Patterson’s girl, right?” The blonde asks, eyes scanning her up and down in a way that makes her want to hide behind someone. There’s something vaguely familiar about him, probably because she’s seen him in passing for the last couple of months but never talked to him. Which wouldn’t have been weird if most of the other people in the station hadn’t introduced themselves the first time Luke had invited her to one of their station parties, and made an effort to talk to her whenever she'd stopped by since.
“Yeah, I’m Julie,” she smiles politely, trying to put emphasis on her name. She doesn't mind being known as Luke's girl by people at the station who have actually made an effort to get to know her.
“Right, right, nice to meet you Julie. I’m Nick, I’m sure Luke’s mentioned me,” he grins, teeth showing and shoulders pulling back like he’s expecting her to — what? Clap? A small furrow works its way between her brows as Nick starts up a conversation without even waiting for her response and she suddenly understands what Luke means about him. Because he has mentioned the condescending, stereotypical blonde frat boy before, and never in a good way. It was mostly followed by some very creative swear words and a mumbled ‘he’s going to get either himself or one of us really hurt one day’.
She tries to follow along with the conversation, nodding politely and laughing whenever Harrison forces one out, but Nick only seems interested in talking about himself, and normally she can feign interest, but right now all she wants is to talk to one person in particular.
There’s the sound of too many voices heading in their direction and Julie turns around, eyes searching for one person, but all she’s met with is a collection of firefighters she vaguely knows and tries not to let her disappointment show too clearly on her face.
“Wow Molina, don’t look so excited to see us!” An elbow nudges her side and Julie glances up to see Carrie Wilson has appeared in the place that Nick had just stood, eyebrows raised and a blinding smile as the other blonde frowns from behind her, still trying to carry on his conversation.
“No! I am glad to see you all it’s just—” Julie starts, eyes a little wide as she looks at the other girl because Carrie had only ever been nice to her, but Luke had a lot of stories about the blonde being ruthless and rude to people she was mildly inconvenienced by.
(One of Luke’s favourite stories was about Carrie loudly telling some girl that Nick was flirting with how he had used the same lines on her two months before. Luke told it every chance he could get, sparing no details on the look of horror that has taken over Nick’s face.)
“You’re here for Patterson,” Carrie cuts her off with a wink, elbow nudging her lightly again, “Don’t worry, we all know. He should be down soon.” There’s something about how she says it that raises more questions than answers for Julie, furrow between her brows and mouth opening to comment when Carrie just nods her head behind her, and Julie turns around to spot Luke.
It’s impossible, Julie knows it’s impossible, but she could swear time slows down. Like she’s in some rom-com movie where the main character sees their love interest for the first time.
Only she’s not in a film, she’s stood next to a fire engine and trying to care about what the people around her are talking about and it’s far from the first time she’s seen the love interest. But the world still feels like it’s in slow motion all the same as she looks up as Luke calls her name from the second floor, grinning at her from over the banister and holding up one hand in that universal signal for ‘wait’.
And Julie waits, not that she could really do anything else with the firehouse blurring at the edges and Nick's voice fading into the background. Focus entirely on Luke.
She’s never seen someone slide down the pole before, didn’t even know that they still used them in firehouses, but Julie’s pretty sure it shouldn’t be as hot as it is. Though, she supposes, it could just be Luke. His hand wraps around the metal and Julie swallows as her eyes are drawn to his arms, to where his top pulls tight and his forearms are on show. If this was a film, there’d be some stereotypical song about sex playing in the background right about now. All her slightly hazy brain can supply is the chorus to Lady Marmalade on repeat. His legs wrapped around the pole, ankles crossed and thighs pressed together, comes into view as he slides down the metal, all cool and in control, and Julie's throat goes dry.
She knows how much strength it takes to slide down a pole. Her and Flynn had taken a few pole dancing classes a few years ago in an attempt to add some sort of exercise into their day. Julie can still remember how much her arms ached and the bruises that littered the insides of her thighs after even the simplest of moves.
It was hard, and Luke was making it look so easy.
His feet hit the ground, and even though she’s too far away to actually hear it, she’s pretty sure they must make some sort of thudding sound. Because that’s what happens, right? You slide down the pole and your feet hit the floor with a thud that shows you’re ready for action. Only Luke isn’t going off to put on his uniform and fight a fire or save a life.
He’s walking towards her, suspenders swaying and smile widening and eyes never leaving her face.
And look, she knows that she’s seen Luke fully naked, fresh out of a shower or panting on his back. But seeing him slide down that fucking pole in his white t-shirt, suspenders by his knees and hair a mess? Hottest thing she has ever seen. And he knows it if the way his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he gets closer is anything to go by.
“How long did it take you to practice all that, Patterson?” Carrie asks, and Julie can hear the teasing tone in her voice and would normally enjoy seeing Luke stammer and blush, but right now she’s the one feeling too warm and is pretty sure if she started speaking right now all that would come out would be a high pitched noise.
“About the same amount of time it takes you to do your hair,” is his easy reply and Julie watches as Carrie rolls her eyes, hair flipping over her shoulder, and because he’s momentarily not looking at her, Julie tries to pull her thoughts together. To get a hold of herself. This is not the first time she has seen him in his uniform, she has seen in him in far less, and she will not turn into a blushing mess right now!
“Alright you lot, back to work!” Harrison interrupts before anyone can say anything else, and everyone starts walking away, some nudging Luke as they go, some giving her a wave, and she thinks she must smile back, at least she hopes she does. Her brain is still very much focused on Luke and how his thighs probably looked coming down that pole without the heavy duty trousers. “You tell Alex I’m still a fan of the flapjack he makes,” Harrison says as she walks past, dropping an eye into a wink and giving Luke a look she doesn’t understand.
A tense smile pulls at Julie’s lips that she hopes comes across as genuine and not just her unable to speak because of her incredibly hot and infuriatingly knows it boyfriend.
“You alright, Jules? Looking a little flushed, need me to get one of the EMT’s?” Luke asks, all innocence and anything but subtle as he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, teeth still chewing on his damn lip.
“Just—” she clears her throat, trying to glare up at him, but already knowing it’s ruined by the heat in her cheeks and how she can’t stop staring at his arms. God, she hasn’t been this distracted by his arms since their first date. Blowing out a breath, Julie drags her eyes away from where his arms are crossed across his chest — which, she’s like, 80% sure he’s doing on purpose right now, the little shit — and up to his face just as he raises an eyebrow at her.
“It’s just a little warm,” she finally manages to get out, raising her hand that’s clutching the reusable grocery bag too tight, “Alex sent me with lunch.”
Luke’s eyes light up at the mention of Alex and food, hands dropping from his chest to eagerly reach for the bag and Julie can’t help but giggle at how quickly he can switch from cocky to cute.
“Swee-et! Alex is best,” he grins down at her, drawing out the first syllable of the word and bobbing his head at her. “You wanna eat outside?”
Julie doesn’t respond, just nods her head and links her fingers through his empty hand, letting Luke lead her out of the fire station and to the little grassy area outside. There’s already a blanket on the ground, two bottles of water and a warmth spreads through her for a different reason as Luke pulls her down to the ground and spreads out the food Alex has given them.
They get an hour.
An hour to eat lunch and curl up together to talk and giggle and try to keep their hands visible at all times. It’s both her favourite and the most tortuous hour of her week so far. And Luke’s just leaning in to whisper something in her ear, his breath against her cheek sending shivers down her spine when the alarm starts blaring from inside and his head drops to her shoulder with a sigh that mingles with her own groan.
“I gotta go,” he mutters into the fabric of her t-shirt, and she can imagine how his lips would feel brushing against her skin if they were somewhere else right now.
“I know,” she sighs and carefully moves her shoulder so he has to lift his head up, eyes apologetic as they meet hers. “Be careful?”
“Always am,” Luke smiles gently at her and then he’s getting up and leaving her on the blanket and feeling the loss. Julie watches him go, knees pulled up to her chest and blowing him a kiss when he turns around to wave one last time like he always does when the alarm inevitably ends their lunch date early.
Which normally Julie was fine with.
He was at work. He had a job. He had an important job.
Running out in the middle of lunch was fine. And it would have been fine today, if he hadn’t slid down that damn pole and filled her head with all sorts of ideas and left her fidgeting in her seat. It doesn’t help that Luke clearly knows, if the way he presses a kiss to her forehead and mutters a sorry, eyes a little wide and promises to see her later.
Which is all well and good, but Julie can’t help but feel like he did it on purpose and wonders if there’s a way for her to make him feel just as flustered as she had an hour earlier.
//
It takes her a while to form a plan of revenge, and then it takes a while longer for her to gather all the things she needs. And okay, maybe at some point she forgets why she’s doing all this, and then Luke mentions the pole at the station and how it makes his muscles ache sometimes as he says he’s going for a shower and Julie remembers the sight of him coming down and redoubles her planning.
The hard part comes when she has to pick a day. Because she can’t lure him to her house, not while her dad is working odd hours and her brother is home and Victoria still has a tendency to show up unannounced. Which leaves finding a time when his apartment is empty.
Not an easy feat when Reggie works from home part time, and can’t actually be trusted to stick to his word when he says he’ll be out and Alex has a weekend routine he’s hard pressed to change and likes to get home from work and relax. Plus she has to check when Luke isn’t working on a weekend, which turns out to be the easiest part, because it turns out Harrison really likes her and was happy to schedule Luke a weekend off when she asked.
Sure, she could have enacted her plan while one or both of them were home too but, well Julie knows the boys are all very close, and she knows that they’ve accepted her into the closeness with welcome arms. But she’s not sure she wants to have sex while they’re eating leftover lasagna down the hall. Feels a little too close for her liking. Plus, she has a plan that might end up involving their bath and she’s not sure they’d want to be there for that.
So Julie bides her time. Changes her mind on what clothes she wants and practices different poses on her bed at night and drops little hints about a weekend alone together.
Alex makes plans first, announces that he’s going with Willie to an out of state kids skateboarding competition to help cheer on Willie’s little proteges. He makes a big deal out telling them all the dates and how they had plans to go to some couples spa on their way back and how his restaurant would be ‘more than happy to supply any meals for two that you two might want’.
It had gone over Luke’s head, just nodding and asking about the competition. But Julie had gotten the hint.
And then a few days later Reggie said he had ‘big plans’ with her dad and brother of all people. He’d said it one afternoon when she’d stopped by to see Luke before his week of night shifts, how they were going to go camping so her dad could take some photos for a project and Reggie could teach Carlos to fish, and then he’d dropped his eye in a dramatic wink when she’d asked if that was the same weekend Alex was also away.
(Julie knew that she probably should have found it a little weird how often Reggie seemed to talk and hang out with her family, but the first time she’d gotten home to find him sitting at the dining room table, helping her dad edit photos and offering to order pizza, had felt strangely right.
Like he had always been a part of their family.
Luke had asked her once, a few weeks after they first started dating if it was okay. If she didn’t mind that Reggie had seemed to attach himself to her family. He never explicitly said anything, but she’d known him long enough by then to see the hints, the secrets she wasn’t aware of yet. Of lonely childhoods and something lacking. The hints that he’d found that with her family. And even if she hadn’t been fine with it already, she wasn’t about to stop Reggie. The Molina’s had never been shy about taking in lost souls.)
So apparently she hadn’t been quite as subtle as she thought she’d been with her hints. Both boys clearly conspiring to get her a weekend alone with their best friend. Julie’s just glad that Luke clearly hasn’t noticed. Or if he hadn’t, hadn’t teased her about it.
And that their apartment is empty when she uses her key to let herself in on Friday evening, Hotdog already waiting by the shoes for Luke, head tilted as she looks up mewling softly in disappointment.
“Sorry sweetie, he’ll be home soon though,” Julie mummers, bending down to scratch behind the cat's ears before stepping out of her shoes, which Hotdog happily moves to sit on top of instead. “Be sure to make a big fuss when he gets in so I know, alright?”
Hotdog doesn’t respond, just fixes her eyes back on the front door to wait for Luke, and Julie moves further into the apartment, laughing quietly at the plate of brownies Alex or Willie have clearly left out for them on the counter, blushing slight as she reads the short message scrawled on a post-it note,
‘Don’t mess up my kitchen ;)’
She tries not to let herself think too hard or long about how clearly they all knew about her grand plans for the night. And the next day, and hopefully the whole weekend if things went according to plan.
Picking up the plate on her way through the kitchen, Julie shrugs out of her coat to leave on the back of one of the kitchen stools, because if Luke missed her shoes in the hall, he won't miss this, and she’s really hoping he’ll get the hint to head towards his bedroom. By the time she’s made it to Luke’s room she’s lifted the cellophane off the plate and taken a bite from one of the brownies. Definitely Willie who’d baked them, he was always doubling up the chocolate content. Where Alex was experimental in the kitchen, Willie was a traditionalist who believed chocolate was the best way to set a mood. Julie couldn’t really fault his logic as she moves into Luke’s room.
His room looks the same as it had the first time she’d seen it. Only now there’s a bottle of her perfume on his dresser, and some of her clothes on his ‘laundry’ chair, and polaroids of the two of them stuck in the corners of the photo frames of him and the boys. And Julie knows if she thinks about it, that her room at her dad's house is also littered with pieces of him as well, and she knows it’s only been a few months, but it feels like years. Like her life had been full of all these little gaps she’d never noticed until they were filled with Luke.
Putting the plate down, she starts moving around his room. Pulling out the firefighting coat he’d brought home a few weeks ago because he’d found a rip in the shoulder, rooting through his wardrobe for the plain blue cut off she’d seen the last time she was over and laying them out on his bed. Tilting her head, Julie mentally puts together her outfit one more time. Shorts, suspenders, Luke’s cut-off, coat, maybe the shoes? She bites her lip and decides to come back to it, to see how everything looks on.
It’s strange, Julie thinks as she clips one side of her suspenders to her shorts, how nervous she is about this. It’s not like this is the first time they’ll have slept together, but it is the first time she’s done anything like this. Dressed up in something other than a pretty dress for dinner that he’d taken great care of taking off her.
What if he didn’t like it? What if he thought it was weird? What if he got home and was too tired to do anything? He’d been at work all day, after a long week of working, maybe she should change her plans and do it tomorrow night? What if—
She cuts her own thoughts off with a groan, sitting down on the end of Luke’s bed to take a breath and fiddle with knee high sheer socks dotted with little stars that she’d ordered online. Logically, Julie knows that Luke will like this, that he’ll look at her with those eyes of his that can’t hide a single emotion and smile at her slowly and call her beautiful.
Because he’d been complimenting her since their first date, and every day since. Little things and big changes and all the between. He really did seem to like her just as much dressed up and with make-up on as he did when she’d just woken up on a morning with her hair a mess and pillow creases still on her cheeks.
And that in itself was scary.
Because he liked her for her and didn’t need her to change. She’d never really dated anyone before who didn’t want her to be less invested in music or spend less time with her family or who didn’t like Flynn or even one guy who thought she should try a different scent of shampoo. They’d all been relationships littered with red flags, big and small.
But not even Flynn could find a real warning sign about Luke. Maybe he was a little co-dependant on his friends, but neither of them could say anything because they were a little co-dependant too. And maybe he could be a little over enthusiastic, but he also knew when to give her space. He had a stable job and good friends and was cute and lived in a nice area and he had a cat.
And, once upon a time, he had had a similar dream to her.
One of the things Flynn had managed to dig up on him during her ‘background’ check was an old low quality video on youtube of three boys in a garage playing instruments that looked too big for them but taking the whole thing seriously. Voices cracking on the cover of Summer of ‘69 they were playing, but Julie had seen the way they grinned at each other, at the way a younger Luke had bounced around the small space and Reggie had rocked on his feet and Alex had thrown a drumstick in the air and caught it again. They were kids, but they were talented and it's at that moment that Julie realises Luke was right. They could have made it.
She wonders what would have happened if fate hadn’t intervened in the form of a fire. She’s pretty sure Luke has wondered the same thing too. He doesn’t talk about it much and Julie’s never sure how much to push because he seems happy in his life and choices. And plus, if it hadn’t been for a fire in a record store, there’s a chance they wouldn’t have met.
Julie frowns a little at that thought as she rolls on her second sock over her knee and stands up, straightening out her shorts and twisting the side of Luke’s cut off up and tying it into a knot. She’s never been the biggest believer in fate since her mom died but she thinks there’s something a little like fate that’s pulled them together. And she thinks they’d have met with a fire or without a fire, with music or without.
She wrinkles her nose at herself in the mirror at that thought, rolling her eyes at how cheesy it sounds even to herself. Fate and destiny, who did she think she was? They were just two people lucky enough to find each other.
An alarm goes off on her phone to tell her she’s got half an hour before Luke is due home and this is her last chance if she wants to change her mind.
Tilting her head a slightly to the side, Julie takes in her high waisted shorts, red suspenders dangling by her thighs, the way her t-shirt cinches at her waist and reveals just a strip of skin above her shorts where she knows Luke likes to rest his hands when he pulls her close. She’d taken extra care with her curls and all she had to do was apply some lipstick and touch up her eyeliner and she’d be ready.
It’s Flynn’s voice in the back of her head as she tucks curls behind her ears to lean a little closer to her reflection and, as she pulls back, smacking her lips once before letting them rest in a pout, she can’t help but reiterate it, “I do look hot.”
The front door shuts and Julie can hear Hotdog meowing and Luke’s muffled voice down the corridor as she’s pulling his coat over her shoulders. It’s far too big for her, hanging below her knees and she has to roll the sleeves up three times to free her hands, but the collar smells like smoke and metal and Luke and his last name is written across the right hand side and his station across her back.
That was the part that Flynn had said would really get him — his name on her. Luke wasn’t exactly possessive, but she and Flynn had agreed there was just something about it that was A Lot, in a good way. (Unlike buying a pole and installing it in Luke’s room for a weekend, that was A Lot, in a bad way. Her plan had gone through many different phases before settling on this one. Luckily, it was also the cheapest.)
“Jules?” Luke calls and Julie bites her lip as she carefully climbs on to his bed, and kneels in the middle before changing her mind and crawling off the other side to stand next to it instead.
“I’m in here,” she calls back and she hears something dropping to the floor, probably his bag she guesses, and then his footsteps sounding down the hall.
Julie’s glad she opted for the shoes, just simple black heels, but they give her an extra lift and something more for Luke to look at as he opens his bedroom door. She has one knee slightly bent and resting on her toes, coat sleeves hiding the way her hands are balled up at her sides and one shoulder raised a little higher than the other as she tilts her head at him, biting her lip.
He freezes in the doorway, mouth partly open like he’d been about to say something only to get lost somewhere between his brain and vocal chords as his eyes seem to lock on to the coat she’s wearing before traveling down to her bare legs and Julie watches him swallow, adam's apple bobbing. Just as his eyes get back up to her face she moves one hand to tuck her coat behind her hip and hook her thumb under her suspenders in a way she’s seen him do countless times.
And it gets the reaction she wants, his eyes zeroing in on her hand and tracing up the line of red that covers her chest. Luke’s tongue darts out to swipe across his bottom lip as he blinks and finally drags his eyes back up to her face, pupils blown wide and she watches as he lets out a heavy breath.
“Hi,” she breathes out, and almost immediately regrets it. She's trying for sexy but thinks it just comes across as gasping. Which she hopes she’ll be eventually at some point tonight, but would at least like to be touched a little first.
“You—” Luke starts, and his voice is rough like he’s not used it in hours so he swallows again and Julie’s momentarily distracted by the way his throat moves before his speaking again, “Is that my coat?”
“Maybe,” Julie shrugs, turning slightly so she can pull at the collar of the coat to peer down at the name stitched in the fabric, “Oh look, it does say your name. Would you like me to take it off?” She blinks up at him with a soft smile.
Julie doesn’t know if it’s the smile or her words or just everything about the moment, but Luke lets out a low groan and before she can even blink he’s stood in front of her, hands on her hips and fingers brushing against her strip of visible skin, just like she knew he would. And she’s thankful for the heels all over again when it gives her the little extra height that means Luke doesn’t have to bend down quite so far to brush his lips across her cheek.
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he mutters, lips ghosting along her jaw and Julie has to rest her hands against his chest to steady herself as her legs already feel wobbly. If she didn’t love him, she’d almost hate him for how easily he can affect her.
“Luke,” she whines as he continues to avoid her lips and trails one hand up his chest to wrap around his neck, fingers winding into his hair to tug lightly which only results in making him huff a laugh against the skin below her ear before giving in and pulling back.
“So,” he starts, press a light kiss to her cheek again again, “fucking,” he kisses the corner of her lips, “beautiful.” And he finally presses his lips to hers, soft at first and then she nips lightly at his top lip and he flexes his fingers against her hip, tugging her a closer with her suspenders to deepen the kiss.
Julie walks them backwards until the backs of her knees hit the edge of his bed and Luke takes the lead from there, lowering her down without breaking the kiss. He pulls away just enough to gasp for a breath, and she looks up at him, chest heaving and takes her chance to start her own teasing trail of kisses up his neck and across his jaw.
“Fuck,” he mutters and Julie smiles as she sucks lightly at his neck and sees the red mark her lipstick has left behind. She just hopes it lasts long enough for her full plan.
//
“This was because of the pole thing a few weeks ago, right?” Luke asks a few hours later as they lie in the middle of his bed, blankets half pushed to the floor and Julie’s spent the last five minutes kicking her legs back and forth to try and dislodge the reminder from covering her legs without having to turn around or sit up. She’s perfectly comfortably lying on her front, licking chocolate off her fingers from one of the brownies that Alex and Willie had been correct in leaving for them.
“Maybe,” she tries to shrug, but it’s awkward in this position and she quickly gives up to just look at him from under her lashes with a smile.
Luke laughs, his fingers trailing up and down her arm and over her shoulder a few times before he sits up slightly and leans over to press a kiss to her shoulder, “If I’d known it would cause such a reaction I would have slid down that pole in front of you months ago.”
“It might have still taken us months to get to this. Your roommates have very annoying schedules,” she shakes her head sadly and she thinks her hair has to be hitting him in the face, but he doesn’t say anything, just carefully gathers it in one hand to drape over her other shoulder, his lips still brushing soft kisses across her skin.
“Yeah. I’d get rid of them if Alex didn’t feed me for free and Reggie didn’t get us so many free tickets to stuff,” he sighs, breath blowing against her skin as his nose nudges over her shoulder blade until his lips follow and his rest his chin on her shoulder, and all she has to do is turn her head a little to find his eyes on her lips. “Though it would be so worth it for weekends like this.”
“Guess we should just make the most of this one first, huh?”
It’s a little awkward, and Luke must be uncomfortable with his torso twisted like it is, but it’s easy to kiss Luke, and to roll over until she can push him back down until his back hits the mattress and she can hover over him instead.
“You sound like you have a plan,” Luke comments, and his hands rest on her hips, fingers tapping against her as he looks up at her with those damn eyes of his. The ones that can’t hide a single thought or emotion. And all she can see is love, and okay yeah, probably a lot of lust.
“There might have been some bullet point list involved,” she shrugs one shoulder, her hair slipping over as she moves and Luke’s fingers flex against her, squeezing one hip as he lets out something that sounds halfway between a laugh and a groan.
“That shouldn’t be this hot,” he shakes his head, but his eyes are still shining and Julie loves him.
So she tells him. And kisses him. And wonders if it’s too soon to suggest they spend all their weekends together forever.
#julie and the phantoms#jatp fics#julie molina#luke patterson#jukebox#jatp#firefighter!luke au#serioulsy what else am i supposed to tag fics on here ghfj#*fics#i post this then i go to bed. enjoy and goodnight 😌
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The Captain’s Paramour
A/N: I worked hard write this and would really appreciate any love you can give this story. I do intend to write at least one more part to this and would love to hear any feedback or requests that you all have! If any of you have a request for a one-shot, please feel free to message me!
Pairing(s): Tooru Oikawa X Y/N; Hajime Iwaizumi X Y/N; Koutarou Bokuto X Y/N; implied Aoba Johsai X Y/N
Summary
Growing up, Y/N knew that Tooru Oikawa was someone who intimidated her, regardless of her crush on him, and she opted to stay away. When they start college together and Y/N joins as team manager, Oikawa charms his way to being her boyfriend. Happy in the start of the relationship, Y/N has yet to wonder if she was right to stay away from Aoba Johsai’s captain from the beginning.
Word Count: 4.4k
Rated M for Mature; intended for 18+ audiences.
Warning: This fan fiction contains a toxic relationship and bullying. If you are not comfortable with manipulation, dub-con, degrative language, and otherwise abusive aspects, please do NOT read this. You have been warned.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ He was someone you told yourself to only admire from afar. Regardless of the fact that you had known him since the two of you could attend school. Even then, you hadn’t spoken much to Tooru Oikawa.
It was intimidating to have him even look in your direction.
He had a god-like presence that always shines too brightly when he smiles. His eyes had a way of singling out his admirers like a lion stalking his prey. On more than one occasion, you told yourself to stop going to volleyball games because you knew that if he ended up approaching you, you’d become a blubbering mess. At least, that’s how you always pictured it.
But rather than avoiding him at all costs, you couldn’t help to watch him at his practices and games. If there was anything that no one could deny, it was that Oikawa had a talent that was nearly impossible to beat.
His talent alone had entranced you, and after years of watching him play in elementary and middle school, you found yourself applying for the manager position on Aoba Johsai’s boys volleyball team.
Purely because now you had an obsession with the game.
And since you’ve been so observant, you knew that you could at least help the boys on the team in a practical manner.
As a first year, you doubted that you would be accepted…
But after a week of waiting, you found yourself sitting in one of the school’s gymnasiums, helping Oikawa set up the net in the middle of the court for practice. You found that he was actually quite disarming in conversation, making it so that you could speak with him easily. Your anxiety about being around him slipped away with a single ‘Hello.’, and you weren’t sure if that unsettled you or not.
When you applied to be Seijoh’s manager, you expected the long hours and dedication you’d have to put in. Actually, you welcomed the distraction it gave you as an extracurricular.
What you didn’t expect was the disdain most girls had for you.
Most girls at Aoba Johsai hated you and the time you got with who they considered to be the hottest guys in school. They’d blatantly ignore you and write cruel messages on your locker and desk. In the few times that any of the boys were present during these incidents, they’d come to your defense. And you couldn’t have been more grateful to have your team back you up.
You would always assure them that the bullying didn’t bother you. It didn’t bother you much when you had friends on the volleyball teams all over the country, including the couple of female managers they had.
It was something you reminded yourself of when the crude comments written on your social media did bother you. Although, the harassment progressed farther online with absurdly edited pictures of you on certain profiles. And the comments multiplied by the day, making it all the more worse.
When the remarks got particularly bad, you would hide yourself in the janitorial closet of the gymnasium, crying in the privacy of the vacant room.
Having the girls at school, and only the girls at school, torment you was something you could deal with.
But having strangers command you to die and tell you that you were worthless hurt you more than you could have ever expected.
You were sniffling softly and nearly at the end of your tears when someone walked into the closet. Looking up at the shadow of whoever had come in, you wipe furiously at your damp cheeks, trying to erase the fact that you were just bawling your eyes out.
“Oh- sorry, I’ll be out in a sec-” Speaking softly to the intruder, you stand up, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down.
“N/N-chan?” Oikawa’s voice surprises you.
“Tooru..”
“Why are you in here?” He takes a moment to observe your features and asks another question, “Have you been crying?”
Anxiously, you tuck a lock of hair behind your ear before fiddling with the ends of it. A sarcastic, curt laugh tumbles from your throat as your red-rimmed eyes find the linoleum floor. “Yeah..” You sniffle before adding, “Pretty lame, right?”
Before you have a chance to look at him again, Oikawa’s arms wrap around you in a binding hug.
The jacket he wears feels cool against your skin and you find yourself leaning your heated cheeks against it, silent tears rolling down your cheeks from the gesture you’d never expect from him.
“No.. No, you’re not lame at all, Y/N.” His mouth rests against the top of your head and you can feel his lips twist into a small smile. “Those people are gonna get what’s coming to them for being so mean to you, I’m sure of it. In the meantime, you should just ignore it, ya?” He leans back to look at you, thumb carefully wiping away one of your stray tears.
“Maybe then they’ll get bored and find someone else to pick on.” He adds with his trademark dazzling smile.
Nodding, you agree with him, leaning back onto his shoulder as he rubbed your back to comfort you. In that moment, your personal relationship with Tooru became much more than it was before.
As far as you knew, Oikawa hadn’t spoken with anyone about what happened that day, but you did notice many things start to change.
For one thing, the atrocious bullying had stopped quite abruptly and you now only had to deal with a few harmless glares during your classes. For another, Oikawa seemed to pay more attention to you. Not that you were complaining.
He had a way of drawing you in and making you even more smitten with him, and he knew it.
It didn’t take long at all for him to claim you as his girlfriend.
And at first, you felt like you were walking on Cloud Nine. There was no way that you could’ve fallen any deeper in love with him. He was so considerate and gentlemanly and kind. He brought you on nice dates when he didn’t have practice and showered you with compliments all the time. And when he touched you, you felt a pleasure you could never imagine before. He made you happy. He did.
Really.
So you promised yourself that doing things like this wasn’t a big deal.
Because Tooru wanted it. And you loved him.
- - - - -
“That’s right, baby girl. All of Iwa-chan’s dick in that pretty little mouth of yours.” Oikawa prompted you from the side of the room, sporting a sizable bulge as he watched the action. “I want you to make him feel really good, hm?”
Following Oikawa’s instructions, you force yourself to choke on more of Iwaizumi’s girth, your eyes watching as his head tilts back to let out a deep groan.
Trying to evoke more of his noises, you wrap your hand around the base of his cock to pump the inches you can’t comfortably fit into your mouth. Behind you, Oikawa tutts, shaking his head. “Naughty girl.. You should know it’s improper to use your hands.”
Your scalp screams as he pulls you back with a fistful of your hair. A pitiful whimper leaves your lips which are covered in a messy amount of saliva.
You fall into Oikawa’s lap weakly, the back of your head on his shoulder as he pries your legs open to display your arousal. As you attempt to close your legs, embarrassed that you’re so turned on in this situation, he hooks his legs between yours, so that his knees rest on the inside of yours.
“Look at this Iwa-chan,” Tooru’s slender fingers slide along the puffed lips of your pussy, causing you to whine and grind your hips.
Before you can receive any lasting relief, Oikawa pulls his fingers away from you, displaying the way your slick sticks and drips down his fingers. “She’s such a cock-hungry slut that she’s already dripping after sucking dick.”
His fingers dip down again, and this time he teasingly enters your twitching hole and pulls a moan from you.
Oikawa starts to curl his fingers against you in a way that you know will have you seeing white. Skillfully he adjusts his wrist to reach deeper into you, brushing continuously against the sweet spongy texture of your walls.
“Tooru- ‘M close!”
And just like that, he pulls his fingers away, making you cry out. “Please, I wanna cum, Toru!” Your eyes brim with tears as you look at him, desperate for the release you nearly had.
“That’s not my name.” His eyes are dark and he gives you a small smirk before saying, “If you wanna cum so bad..” He pushes you unceremoniously off his lap, relishing in the whine you give him. “You better beg Iwa-chan really nice.”
You look up to Oikawa from the ground, wide-eyed and begging. “Sir..”
Giving Hajime a blowjob while Tooru watched was the original agreement and you weren’t sure that you much liked this spontaneous new plan.
“Please, sir..” Your hands reached for his lap, intending to try pleasuring him so he’ll want to finish you himself. “I want you to make me cum, please.” Oikawa’s vice grip stops your hands before they are even close to touching him. The grip is tight enough it brings tears to your eyes, and you’re sure it’ll leave bruises for later on.
“You heard me, pet.” He nearly spits in your face and you flinch at the nickname as tears collect on your lashes. “If you want to cum, you have to have Iwaizumi fuck you.”
He pushes you away with ease, letting you fall back onto your palms.
“So you better beg him hard.” His eyes flash with sadistic intent. “And before you even think about it.. There’s no way I’ll let you finish yourself tonight. I’ll tie you to the headboard if I have to insure it.” The smile he gives you doesn’t match his words.
When you turn to look at Hajime, you can see pity in his eyes. Like he can see just how uncomfortable you are with Oikawa’s behavior.
But both of you knew that Oikawa wouldn’t let you leave until he got what he wanted.
And that he got.
- - - - -
Events like that intense night with Hajime and Tooru became typical for you. And even though you had expressed your disinterest with being shared, you found yourself still wanting to make him happy.
What started out as a normal relationship started to feel like ownership.
You dwelled on how similar you actually became to the posts those girls used to make about you being a slut, and that just seemed to make you feel worse about yourself.
So you would go to Oikawa again and again, seeking that warm comfort he gave you that one day in the janitor’s closet, crying your eyes out about how worthless and whorish you felt. And you’d be comforted by him for just enough time to make you feel okay before he would make you feel like a whore again; crying under him as he pounded you into the mattress.
Then his pretty words would bring you snuggling up to him in bed as he told you how precious and special you were, and how much he loved you.
Even though you knew that you felt terrible and wanted to end things with him, you’d stay because you were in love, and because Tooru told you he needed you.
You told yourself that he at least made you happy sometimes, and that it was normal for him to flat out ignore you after games because he needed to make his fangirls happy. It was understandable to a degree. A guy like him would need popularity to bring him where he wanted to go and you supported him one hundred percent.
It wasn’t like you relied on him completely for happiness.
You had friends for that.
Most of your friends were from the boys volleyball league; people you had met during the many, many volleyball camps you had attended with the Aoba Johsai.
You couldn’t have been more grateful for the frequent training camps in your third year, given the growing uneasiness you had around your own team. The only people on your team you felt comfortable around were the coaches and Iwaizumi, who was always respectful to you.
After a while, you had caught on to the fact that Oikawa was making Iwaizumi feel like he had to do what he says, similarly to the way he makes you feel.
Shortly after, you heard an argument break out between them and though you haven’t explicitly talked to each other about it, you knew that Iwaizumi had gotten fed up and told Oikawa he wasn’t gonna fuck his girlfriend anymore. And that Tooru should stop using me like a sex doll to be thrown around because it’s pretty clear that I don’t like it.
You had always thought of Iwaizumi as a protector and close friend. Someone who was gentle with the people he cares about.
He always made a point of treating you as a gentleman should.
In fact, most of the boys who weren’t on your team treated you kindly and warmly. It was truly no wonder that you enjoyed the training camps so much.
Or nights like this one.
When the second and third years from the prefecture would decide to throw a party. The presence of other school’s teams made you more comfortable with the environment.
Finally you’re able to relax.
“Hey, hey, hey, Y/N!” Bokuto’s voice makes you genuinely smile. You turn to look at him from where you stand on Kuroo’s porch, seeing as he was the one with the idea to throw a party during spring break.
It takes you a second to realize that you haven’t seen Bokuto much in the past few months.
But it’s like having the first breath of fresh air in a long time when you find him smiling just as wide as he had the last time you saw him. It’s enough to keep you floating, just like it always is. “Hi, Bo.” You answer without matching his energy, because you couldn’t scrape up the vitality to do so.
His head tilts to the side and instead of pity, you see confusion in his expression before turning to lean your forearms against the railing like you were before. Your eyes simply watch the sky turn orange and fuschia as the sun sets, your face void of any expression except a small smile that Bokuto placed there.
“Uh oh..” You hear Bokuto approach you but remain looking at the evening sky. “I didn’t do something stupid, did I?”
A glance to Fukurodani’s ace has you softly giggling at the puppy dog eyes he gives you. He’s at your side, bent at the knees so he can be shorter than you, preparing to beg to be forgiven for whatever he thinks that he’s done. “No, of course not, Kotarou.” You shake your head at his words. “You’re nothing but an angel.”
Your smile gets a tiny bit bigger as you pat his head, careful not to ruin the way he styled it.
“Okay, then…” He brings his hand to his chin, straightening himself out to lean his elbow on the porch railing. Owlish eyes observe you carefully, a look of deep concentration etched into Bokuto’s features. It’s as though he thinks if he stares long enough, he’ll be able to read your mind.
You look so much more dull and lifeless now than you had been when he first met you. You had bags beneath your beautiful eyes and your cheeks had sunken in a bit. What made him the most upset was how your eyes didn’t reflect your smile.
“I give up.. Why do you look so sad?” His voice softly coos as he asks the question, head tilting with inquiry.
You shrug and give an unconvincing, “I’m just tired.”
Bokuto is overwhelmingly unprepared for how depressed you sound. His smile falters with unease. It’s normally not so easy to read other people’s emotional states for him. He knew he could be dim-witted at times but this was not one of them. It was clear that whatever had you so down wasn't something you wanted to talk about. Regardless of how much he wanted to know, Bokuto felt it was his job to try to get your mind off whatever was upsetting you.
In a few seconds, his smile is back in full force, wanting nothing more than to find a way to make you happy.
“C’mon.” Bokuto holds out his hand for you to take, excitement flashing in his eyes.
Now it’s your turn to be confused, but rather than asking questions, your hand slips into his and you let him pull you through the house to Kuroo’s backyard. Once you’re there, he lets go of your hand and runs to a playset that probably hadn’t been touched in quite a while.
There are plenty of people lying in the grass and talking around the pool, filling the air with empty chatter combined with the music that flowed outside from the house.
Your eyebrows knit together in a disapproving manner. “Bo..”
The childish excitement he has when he sits on one of the two swings on the playset is admittedly a bit contagious. But, to save yourself embarrassment from accidentally breaking Kuroo’s childhood playhouse, you try arguing as you approach the volleyball player.
“This is meant for kids like 10 and under, you know?”
His eyes glint with competitiveness as he pushes himself back on the swing. “I don’t care, I bet I’ll still swing higher than you.”
Your eyes narrow and you quickly find yourself plopping into the other swing, quickly accepting the challenge. “Oh, you’re on, Mr. Owl.” Pushing off the ground with as much force as you can muster, your mind focuses solely on getting your own swing higher and higher. A grin spreads across your face, brightening your features as you allow yourself to have genuine fun.
The rusted chains of the old swings squeak with sudden use, but luckily don’t show any sign of falling apart.
Seeing as Bokuto’s body is dense with muscle, you find yourself soaring higher than him in no time; laughter seeping out of the both of you in a hysterical manner. “I win!” You shout as you reach the peak of your swing, glancing in the direction of Koutarou. Even though you can only see a blurred version of him, you can tell that he is wearing a look of utmost determination.
“No! I’m not even at my highest yet! Just wait!” He shouts eagerly and you concede.
“Fine, you have one more minute to beat me.”
In that minute, your eyes drift to the sky and appreciate the dazzling stars above. If you focus hard enough you start to recognize a couple constellations. The first thing you see is Orion’s belt, then the whole of Orion.
As you pick out the stars of the Little and Big Dipper, you relax with the free feeling of your hair blowing back and forth with each rock of your legs.
This is what you would imagine flying to feel like, and you get lost in the fantasy of having the power to fly away from the groping hands of your team. Although, you have no idea where you would fly. Maybe you find somewhere like Neverland and be able to live to your own whims and wishes. Or maybe on some desolate tropical island with natives who actually respected you.
You’re so entranced with your thoughts that you don’t realize when you are genuinely airborne until you hear Bokuto’s voice shouting your name with panic.
The impact with the ground comes just as soon as you’ve realized that you’ve tumbled face-first off the swing. “N/N!” Oikawa’s voice beckons you to look for him from where you are on the ground. When your eyes find him jogging towards you from the house, your cheeks burn with guilt at the thoughts you had.
Bokuto’s at your side before Tooru and insistently, yet gently, squishes your cheeks in both of his warm palms to get you to look at him.
Apparently you hadn’t been answering his questions while Oikawa's presence clouded your mind. “Hm?” You raise an eyebrow at Bokuto, telling him that you’re listening.
“Are you hurt?”
You bat away his hands and shake your head while brushing the dust from your knees, which had taken most of the impact. “M’ fine. Just scraped my knees a little.” A reassuring smile settles on your face, although it falls just slightly when Oikawa approaches your side.
You could swear for a moment that Bokuto picked up on the shift in your mood when Oikawa appeared, but ended up just blaming that on wishful thinking.
“I’ll go get some bandages.” The ace leaves you with the setter before you can detest.
Tooru remains silent in an eerie manner, and it takes a lot of courage for you to look him in the eyes. “Can you stand?” He reaches out to you with long slender fingers and when you grab them, a shudder runs down your spine from how cold they feel.
“Yeah.” You answer, and within a moment you’re on your feet, being pulled into the kitchen by your tyrannical boyfriend.
“Sit.” He motions to the island countertop and you obey, swinging your legs as you wait for Koutarou to emerge from the bathroom with the promised bandages. When he arrives, Oikawa swiftly takes the bandaids from him and bends down to apply them to your knees.
Oddly, he seems to completely disregard Bokuto offering to help bandage you. In fact, it honestly seemed as though he were ignoring the ace. He must’ve gotten the same vibe, because within a minute Koutarou left the kitchen with Kuroo.
“There. All better, right?” Tooru smiles as he gives you a kiss on the cheek, holding your hips to help you off of the counter. “Come sit with me for a while, hm?”
His fingers swirl delicately at the skin peeking from between your shirt and shorts; you resist pulling away from the icy chill of his gaze and nod. “Yeah.” You agree and follow him into the living room, which was now clouded with smoke. It was hard to tell the exact source, but it was clear that a few of the people in the room were extremely high.
After a few moments, the smoke was dizzying.
You were never one to indulge in intoxication and you never really saw an opportunity where you would feel comfortable with it. The atmosphere of this room made you queasy, even more so when Oikawa pulled you into his lap on the sofa.
He pulls you close against him, and for a moment you swear you feel like you’re suffocating. Your mouth becomes dry as you pull in an uneasy breath of pungent air.
“ ‘Kawa, I need some water.” Your voice is small against the thumping music inside the house, but Tooru acknowledges your request.
“Oi, Matsu!” The setter calls to his teammate from across the room. “Can you get Y/N some water?” Miraculously, the dark-haired middle blocker hears his team captain and within a short amount of time, you have a glass of water in your hands and chug it thirstily.
Oikawa chuckles from behind you, wrapping his arms around your midsection. “Slow down babe, the water isn’t going anywhere. I promise.” He kisses the junction of your neck a bit more sultrously than you would like in public and you push your shoulder up to signal your apprehension with the gesture.
He chuckles again, his chilling breath caressing your neck and making you tense. Another kiss touches the nape of your neck as Tooru snakes his hands to your inner thighs, fully intending to pull them apart.
“Not now, Tooru.” You keep your voice quiet, not wanting to make a scene around so many people as your hands pull him away from your thighs.
If he heard you, you couldn’t tell but it was clear in your body language that you were not comfortable. Oikawa, either ignoring your words or not getting the message, again latched his lips to your neck, this time nibbling to mark you. “C’mon, don’t you think our friends here deserve a show.” He cooed the words to you while his fingers nimbly began to unbutton your shorts.
“No.” You push his hands away again and this time strain to get up and walk away. His strong arms easily pull you back down against an obvious bulge that grinds against you.
“Tooru, Stop it.” Your voice gets slightly desperate, realizing that he really isn’t letting you go, and that your pleas are falling upon deaf ears. Writhing, you free yourself of his grasp momentarily before his hand is wrapped around your wrist to pull you back.
“Oi- Shittykawa.” Hajime’s voice breaks Oikawa’s concentration and focuses the setter’s glare on his ace. “She said ‘No.’ So fucking stop it.”
With his focus on Iwaizumi, Tooru’s grip loosens and you take the opportunity to leave the vertigo-inducing room to find one that feels more safe.
The house feels much bigger now than it did when you first arrived, and even after leaving the living room, you swear your surroundings are spinning. When you reach the front door, you hear faint chants reminiscent of a fight in the very background of your mind. Whether or not the fight was actually happening, you had no idea.
All you knew was that there seemed to now be two door knobs that led out onto the porch.
You blink and focus extra hard and end up grabbing for both of them. One of your hands ghosts through the imposter knob, while the other successfully twists and opens the door to the fresh air outside.
Hope that the outside air would alleviate your symptoms quickly washed away as the wooden panels of the porch lurched beneath your feet, causing you to fall. Despite the desperate desire you had to get away from this place, you laid your feverish body on the ground.
The only thing you could do against the spinning world was to close your eyes and hope it would go away soon.
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SO's Bookclub: Never Coming Home
Title: Never Coming Home Author: Kate Williams Genre: YA Mystery/Thriller
Goodreads Summary:
The beach read you have been dying for! When ten of America's hottest teenage influencers are invited to an exclusive island resort, things are sure to get wild. But murder isn't what anyone expected. Will anyone survive?
Review:
I picked this one up after finding out that it was supposed to be a good retelling of Agatha Christie's classic (and one of my own favorite all time novels) And Then There Were None, but done with a Gen Z spin. And it most definitely is that.
Ten TikTok influencers are invited to an island and one by one they're picked off. Not only is the plot an homage to the Christie classic, the character designs are similar as well -- and I spent a bit of time while reading lining up who is supposed to be who. There are some interesting twists here - and a couple of surprises as Williams figures you know the original story and plays with that a little.
While this book is mostly a quick read (I polished it off in a few hours) there are a few things hampering it down. For one - it spends a good deal of time trying to world build and flesh out characters who, for the most part, are going to get killed off in a chapter or two. The unfortunate side effect is that a lot of these characters begin be sympathetic in a way that I don't think does the story justice.
In Christie's original - ten people are gathered are seemingly good people on the outside with terrible secrets on the inside. Here - we've got ten people who don't seem that great to begin with, but the more we get to know them, the more we empathize with them, and the more jarring and uncomfortable each death becomes, and I'm not sure if that's exactly what the author wanted.
The murderer reveal, while cleverly revealed, also has a few holes as I'm not sure I really buy the motivation behind all the killings.
Still - I think it's a gripping read, especially for a younger audience. It's fun to spot the similarities if you're a fan of the original work, and I think it's a good, solid book for a younger crowd looking to get into the mystery genre. A recommendation from me.
Rating: 3.5 Stars
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