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clubdionysus · 3 months ago

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[BAD DECISION #59] Betting Against Yeonjun

warnings: there's a section towards the start where I was really going thru it with my adoration for jk lmao bingo if you spot it!!!, seokjin, byeol at her best!!, jungkook also at his best!!!!, mmm I luv our starluvrs <3, conversations re: the first night they met waaaa, okay phew where to start: smut, jungkook's phone gallery is a hotbed of sin (recording), semi-public (club booths), bratty b, dominant koo, a lil degradation, (he says something that would piss me off (b is a better woman than I!! (but she gets her own back!!))), oral (m), lots of lovely words, a little titty worship <3, b on top (yeehaw), creampie, cum eating, oral (f), jimin + nabi!!!!!

a/n: this was the final chapter on wattpad before bd got taken down :( it's very bittersweet. also makes me suuuuuper aware of how few updates we've had since (1.... we have had 1 update (wattpad really knocked the wind from my sails, and if you've been keeping up with me outside of bd, you'll know how crazy busy I've been (the plus side is that I'm so nearly freeee to write to my hearts content for a couple of weeks! <3)))

wc: 10.5K

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

While Jeongguk has always looked good behind the bar of Dionysus, you can't help but think he looks so much better in the middle of a tight-knit crowd, with an arm looped around your waist and a drink in his hand.

Under the cosmic lights of Dionysus, there's a glisten to his lips—alcohol yet to be licked away—and the sheen of sweat on his skin. Hair dark and dishevelled, his fringe tickles at his brows. You don't push it out of his face, 'cause it'll just fall back into position as soon as he moves to the beat of the music.

With a smile on his face, Jeongguk turns to his friends. Chants the lyrics to some song that soundtracked the summers of their youth. Is rowdy and careless in how he jumps around, but not once does he ever loosen his grip on you.

You're all in your finest—the boys in suits, and girls in cocktail dresses. While Nabi is in a deep navy satin number, Danbi has gone for black. Seoyeon opted for an early night, her and Yoongi heading home when the rest of you made your way to the bar.

In the dress picked out for you by Jeongguk all those weeks ago, you're far too overdressed for a bar like this—but you're also under the influence of far too much alcohol.

You know this is one of those golden moments; the nights you won't remember but will have stories to tell about it in years to come. Folklore. Whispers of Aurelian affairs weaved into your subconscious.

History has been made tonight. Not the kind that'll be read about in textbooks, but the kind that grandkids will be told a dozen times over—in a home that's covered in tiny specks of shimmer, while the scent of samgyeopsal waltzes from the kitchen to the courtyard.

So, no, Jeongguk doesn't loosen his grip, and he doesn't think he ever will.

You ignore just how many drinks have been knocked against you, and have also long forgotten the annoyance of sticky liquor on your feet. It's nothing a shower won't fix. Knowing the man beside you as intimately as you do, you're almost positive it's where you'll end up in a few hours, anyway.

Thoughts of you and him doing as you so often do have you wishing you were home already. Tonight is for celebrating, though—and oh, how lovely it is to have an excuse to celebrate Jeon Jeongguk.

Venus herself would've had a hard time crafting him, you think. Carved from marble and yet soft as the silky words he likes to wrap you up in, he's unlike anything of this earth.

For all of his thoughts about you, and the cosmos, and how he's certain 'Milky Way' is written where a location should be on your birth certificate, you've had just as many deliberations.

He says he was born in Busan, but men like him don't just come to be as a result of random genetics. He's forged of gold. Perfection in the form of a mere mortal man.

But then he's shouting something to Jimin over the sound of the music, and he stutters a little. Repeats himself with a goofy little grin, unphased by his innate imperfections, and it only serves to make your heart swell.

Jeongguk isn't perfect. He's capable of making mistakes and saying the wrong things. He wears toe-separating socks more often than you care to acknowledge, and sometimes he can be a little stroppy for no reason.

The pout always eases, though, and he derives such joy from those stupid socks that you can't ever bring yourself to tell him how ridiculous they are.

Perfection isn't measured in traits. It's measured in perception.

And you've never perceived a human more perfect for you than Jeon Jeongguk.

Anyone who looks your way would agree—or maybe they'd just see the way you're looking at him, all dewy-eyed and fawn-like, and know that there must be a little magic between you both.

When he turns his attention back to you and realises just how much adoration is glittering your eyes, he does the only thing he can do: tightens the arm he has around your waist and press the sweetest of kisses into your lips.

"Get a room!"

"Disgusting!"

"PDA! Gross!"

The noise that erupts for your friends is nothing short of embarrassing, even if it is obscured by the thudding base of the club speakers.

None of them really mean it. All have smiles on their faces. Are laughing.

Even if they weren't, they'd far rather you and Jeongguk were insufferably sweet, instead of still pretending like you aren't crazy about one another. You ignore them all anyway. Pout when he pulls away from the kiss. Get him back on your lips just as quickly as he left them.

Jeongguk's lips curve into a smile as he sinks his lips into yours and revels in the way it feels.

In the middle of a bar he could call home, surrounded by people he adores, Jeongguk's got you .

Has caught a shooting star, and is gloating just because he can.

"Fuck, I love you," he mumbles into your lips barely loud enough for you to hear, yet your arms wrap around his neck because you know exactly what he said. Kiss him back with a smile just as insufferable as his.

"Yeah?" You giggle.

Your friends have stopped caring—or at least, they've stopped teasing you. Are just letting you be. Suits Jeongguk fine. Just gives him the green light to tighten his arm around your back and lift you ever so slightly.

"You know I do."

Jeongguk loves without condition. Doesn't need to hear you say it back, not when he knows how you feel.

And yet you indulge him regardless.

"I love you, too," you tell him, and then can't help but giggle at how stupid it all feels. He puts you back on your feet. Press a kiss to your forehead, and then urges you back into the group. Shaking your head, you pull back. "Just gonna get another drink."

"I'll come with."

"Stay," you insist, squeezing his hand as you pull his grip away from your hand. He should be with his friends, you think. Plus you'll order him a drink, too. Won't put it on his tab, 'cause you know damn well that bar tab his friends love so much will no doubt migrate to his restaurant. Still, you make sure to call back, "Will only be a minute, babe!"

You know it'll pacify him for a moment or so, and you also just wanna indulge in the simple pleasure of watching his lip ring do the thing. You'll never grow tired of it. Two birds, one pathetically pretty heart-shaped stone.

You lose yourself in the crowd. Know this place like the back of your hands. Doesn't take you long to find yourself by the bar with an incredibly sober Yeonjun raising his brows in your direction.

He saw you coming. Already has a few empty shot glasses lined up on the tray ready to make you starfuckers.

Rolling your eyes, you're about to say something that'd feel far wittier in your drunk mind than would be in reality when you feel a hand on the small of your back.

Instantly, you flinch away.

The hand isn't cold nor is it aggressive; it's just not Jeongguk's. You knew without hesitation. Eyes flicking over to the mirrored backsplash of the bar, you briefly catch Yeonjun's unimpressed gaze.

He doesn't know the man who's taken the spot beside you, but he knows the man is far closer than a stranger should be.

He's strapping. Incredibly good looking. Broad shoulders, hair slicked back. Is put together in a way that men in Dionysus rarely are.

"Water?" Yeonjun offers you, 'cause no matter how much he likes to wind Jeongguk up, he's grown into a good man. Has a lot to thank Jeongguk for. His care for drunk punters, and making sure they're okay, is one of those things.

Yeonjun also knows Jeongguk would pluck every single cerulean hair from his head if he were ever to let anything happen to a single hair on yours.

"Yeah," you nod, edging away from the man beside you.

It doesn't go unnoticed. The man closes the space you created.

"You were in your element tonight," he says, looking down towards you. "Could be making a name for yourself instead of doing some kid's hard work for him."

When your eyes flicker up at him, they're sharp. Pointed. Daggers where daisies once were. Edging away again, you create a distance that isn't so easily closed this time.

"And you could piss off, Seokjin."

"Oh," he hums with the kind of smirk that would have sent you reeling once upon time. Just makes your stomach churn, now. "Full name? Am I in trouble?"

"I'd have to actually give a shit about you for you to be in trouble," you tell him, and are kind of surprised by how little you feel. You're not even angry. You're bored. A little irritated. Mostly indifferent. "And quite frankly the way you've been behaving recently has just confirmed everything I already knew about you. If you could stop interfering with my life, I'd really appreciate it."

"Interfering?" He half snorts, taking a swig on his drink. "You're the one who invited practically my entire department to your little boyfriend's fundraiser."

"I invited their wallets," you correct him, before turning back to Yeonjun. "The usual, please. Four."

He doesn't need to clarify what you're after. He knows the drill. Gets cracking on the starfuckers.

"Icy," Seokjin continues to tease. There's an arrogance to him. Curiosity, too.

You're not the woman who used to cry in his shower and beg him to stay. Your hair is longer, and your wardrobe is less refined. The role you played to be favoured by him is long-forgotten about now.

Stars don't belong in boxes. They'll just burn out. He never got the luxury to see you shine as brightly as you could, and now that he is, he thinks he likes it.

"There's a reason why you kept coming back, or have you forgotten?" He says with a kind of sleaziness you never before attributed to him. When you come to think about it, you realise that maybe you should have. "Need reminding?"

"No. What I really need is for you to gain a little bit of that decorum you like to pretend you have, and then I need you to stop embarrassing yourself," you assure him as you pull your phone from the small clutch bag you've been carrying with you. Flicking open your message thread with Jeongguk, you manage to put together a very tipsy string of messages that tell him to come to the bar. "You're beating a dead horse."

"If that were true, you wouldn't be talking to me right now," he smirks. "And if anything, I'm the horse in this equation, given how much I know you like rid—"

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" You snap, frankly taken aback by his vulgarity.

If there's one thing Seokjin always was when he was with you, it was respectful. Not to you, or your feelings, but to other people's perception of him. For him to be stooping to such a level just to get a rise out of you means one of two things: the insidious 'boys club' nature of his workplace has corrupted him, or that he thinks so little of you that he believes this is what'd make you fold.

"We ended well over a year ago, and you didn't even want to be in that relationship for just as long! Christ alive. You never had trouble getting laid when we were together. Find some other poor woman to bother—or better yet, just go home. Save everyone's sanity."

Seokjin shrugs. Casts his dark eyes down your glitter-speckled body. Smirks. "You know I always want what I can't have."

You're unattainable. Out of his reach. Belong to skies, when his feet are cemented into the sidewalk.

It's not why he's here, though.

You know him too intimately to understand how his brain works.

Kim Seokjin will never be the man he pretends to be. Will always be the lackey of some CEO. Will never quite own a penthouse, even though he'll probably land somewhere a few floors below. His full-potential will never be reached because he doesn't know how to apply himself in a way that isn't intended on bringing other people down.

He won't climb ladders; he'll just drag people beneath his feet to make himself feel taller. Goes through life as if he's wearing Cuban heels, and steps on the toes of anyone who threatens to achieve more than him.

When you were together, he didn't cheat for the forbidden romance of it all, or anything borne in innate human desires. He didn't do it because he particularly liked other women, or because you weren't satisfactory enough. Quite the opposite.

He cheated for the gratification of coming back to you. He'd hold your body with hands that had been covered in the evidence of someone else; tarnish you and leave himself squeaky clean. Was a power trip. An ego stroker.

It's what's fuelling him right now, you think. The way he knows your body and how his hands used to stroke up the curve of your waist. The eroticism of it all. Thoughts like that used to make you shudder. Now, they make you want to dry-heave.

He knows his hands have been replaced with Jeongguk's lips; that your skin is golden where it once was void of anything but markers of Seokjin.

You went to Jeongguk's apartment once after Seokjin had left those very markers on your throat. They were invisible, but you could feel them. His hands, his lips. How tender he'd been with your skin no matter how rough he had been with your heart.

Jeongguk had crafted you a nest out of every single pillow in his home that night. It was almost like he knew birds would play a pivotal role in the both of your lives. Was giving them— you —a safe place to hatch. To bloom. To shine.

Seokjin doesn't want you.

He just wants Jeongguk to be beneath him.

If that means also getting you beneath him in a more literal sense of the word, then so be it.

But as Jeongguk comes to stand in the space between you both, nodding towards Yeonjun with all the nonchalance he can afford, you know that nobody else will ever have you like he does.

Picking up one of the starfuckers, Jeongguk shoots it back. Picks up a second. Looks to you. Softly wraps his hand around your throat and strokes his thumb up towards your earlobe. Holds the shot to your lips. Waits for you to tip your head back ever so gently—and when you do, he slowly pours the liquor into your mouth for you.

Not once does he take his eyes off yours. Not even when you close them to swallow down the familiar sensation of what it feels like to be in love with him. Just naturally happens whenever you drink a starfucker. Always has done.

"Missed you," he tenderly says, as if it hasn't been a matter of minutes.

When he's holding you like this, his strong hand commanding the angle at which you can look at him, you're without any autonomy. You're his, his, his. The presence of a man you barely even remember being with fades into nothingness behind Jeongguk.

An incredibly love-drunk smile finds its way back to your lips. Jeongguk smiles, too, letting the hand holding your neck ease so that his arm can wrap over your shoulders, as yours does the same around his back. Hooked onto one another, physically as much as you are emotionally, there's a unified front to your partnership.

"These ours?" He asks, nodding towards the remaining starfuckers. You nod. Say nothing, 'cause you don't need to. Just squeeze his waist even tighter. Jeongguk glances up to Yeonjun. "Tab? Four more, and two lemonades."

"Right you are, boss," Yeonjun nods, and gets to work.

"Cheers," Jeongguk thanks him, then picks up one of the starfuckers. Turns ever so slightly, but not enough to loosen his grip on you. Smiles in Seokjin's direction. "Want one? They're good. Practically made her fall in love with me, though, so be careful. You might get a crush on me, too."

"Think I'd be fine," Seokjin scoffs back. "I don't tend to fall for charity cases that can only get girls who feel sorry for them."

"You'd be surprised by how much a starfucker could change your tastes," Jeongguk entertains him. "Take B for example. Used to date limp dick losers who couldn't get her off—"

"Gguk!"

"—One starfucker was all it took, and now it's a seven days a week occurrence. Ain't that a beautiful thing?"

Seokjin grates his jaw. Tries not to let it show. Fails.

"So you have to get her drunk to fuck her?" He sneers.

"Nah," Jeongguk laughs a little at such an absurd suggestion. "Just like I wouldn't need to be drunk to tell you to back off."

"Can she not talk for herself?"

He knows damn well you're able to speak for yourself — he just chooses to disregard everything you say.

"Can you not take a hint? You're not welcome," Jeongguk snaps, before swigging down the shot he had offered Seokjin. Is a little aggressive in how he tosses down the plastic shot glass. "Get fucked—by yourself, that is. My girlfriend isn't included in that suggestion."

"I think—"

"Seokjin," you finally sigh, voice laced with contempt. Shaking your head, you really don't know what more you can say to really drive it home. He never cared this much when you were together. "You're embarrassing yourself. Go home. Find a new bar. I don't care. Yes, I used your connections to get more money to the auction, and no, I'm not sorry. Use the money you saved from losing the bid to get a therapist, or a hooker, or anything that'll help you be a little less insufferable. Maybe an STD check, while you're at it."

He could make a crude remark about how he always wore condoms whenever he cheated.

You know this to be true, 'cause you know you tasted the latex on him once. Thinking about it doesn't hurt like it used to. Annoys you more than anything.

Instead, Seokjin concedes. Can feel the eyes of the bartender searing into him. Knows that you're right; he is embarrassing himself.

That was one thing he could never fault you for. You were always right. Each and every time you called him out on his bullshit, you were right to do so.

"You know where to find me whenever you're done fixing whatever's broken with him," Seokjin simply shrugs. Knows you have a complex. That you tried to 'fix' him, too.

"Fixed it already," Jeongguk says, 'cause he isn't letting Seokjin have the last word. "Seriously, man. You lost. Not because I won, but because you were never worthy of winning in the first place. Stay away or don't, but this is always what you're gonna be greeted with. Always."

Seokjin doesn't look at you. He stares Jeongguk out, instead. Smirks, as if he thinks Jeongguk is an idiot, but lets the ambiguity of any words he could speak linger in the air. Decides it will be a little more torment if he leaves you both wondering what he could have said instead.

He just doesn't realise that neither of you could care any less than you already do.

At this point, he's just like an annoying mosquito buzzing around. With any hope, he'll find another blood source he enjoys more and become an irritating presence for someone else instead.

"Christ," Jeongguk mutters, shaking his head when Seokjin finally retreats. Squeezes you tighter and presses a kiss to your cheek, before pulling the fresh drinks made by Yeonjun closer to your side of the bar. "He's fuckin' insufferable, B. The fuck did you ever see in him?"

Jeongguk pours the starfuckers into the lemonades, turning it into a makeshift version of a starlover. It'll do the job, and was easier to order than it would have been to explain the process to Yeonjun in the middle of a busy shift.

"Before we get into that—" you take the drink offered to you by Jeongguk, sipping a little down " —Seven days a week? Really?"

"Oh, c'mon," Jeongguk grins, as he begins to lead you both away from the bar. "You can't be annoyed with me! He was being a tool!"

The door that leads up to the private booths is closed today—none were booked out, and it saves the clean down time if that entire section stays off limits to punters.

Elevated above the dancefloor, the booths are in the balcony section that wraps around the room. People in the booths can see down to the dancefloor below, but you'd be hard pressed trying to look up into the booths from the dancefloor. They offer a little anonymity. Privacy.

It's why Jeongguk stuck Jiyeong and her friends up there on New Years Eve—purely so that he wouldn't have to deal with them.

Jeongguk isn't just any punter, though. He's the one who installed the door to make his life a little bit easier by keeping drunk stragglers out of the booths. Knows the code, 'cause it's just his birthday backwards.

And right now, he wants a little privacy with you.

"You didn't have to be one back!" You reprimand him as he punches in the code for the door, but you're smiling, too. It's not like you actually gave a shit. If anything, it was kind of hot watching him brag so arrogantly.

"I did," he assures you, quickly encouraging you through the door so as to not draw any attention to yourselves. Taps your ass just 'cause he can. Squeeze, again, just 'cause he can. "Didn't want the old man thinking I was a little virgin."

Rolling your eyes, you nudge him away as you begin to head up the stairs. He's right behind you. Is squeezing your ass again as soon as he can be. "No one is ever gonna look at you and think that."

"Oh, yeah?" Jeongguk flirts. "So when we first met, you thought I was some sort of sexed-up fuck boy, huh?"

"No," you innocently offer, stepping up into one of the booths, and sinking down into one of the plush sofas that run along the back wall. "But I did wish you hadn't been behind the bar so I could find out for myself."

Jeongguk puts his drink on the table in front of the booth sofas, then comes and plonks himself right down next to you. Is practically on your lap. Doesn't care. Is like a fully-grown dog who doesn't realise he's not a puppy anymore.

You just let him. Personal space is null and void.

"Oh? So you went home with Jimin 'cause I turned you on?" He nods to himself. Smirks. Looks incredibly pleased with himself. "Nice."

"Shut up," you laugh, a little scandalised that he's mentioning it so carelessly.

Jeongguk's got half a dozen starfuckers in his system, and does not care for tact. In fact, if he had it his way, he'd set the world to rights. Would make that ancient wish of yours come true, now that he isn't behind the bar.

You set about neatly arranging his hair as he steals your drink from your hand to take a sip.

"You were so pretty," he quietly says. Wraps his hand around your wrist to stop you from preening. Pulls your knuckles to his lips and presses a tender kiss against them. It comes naturally, being like this. "Still are. But that first night... Fuck. Spent my whole shift watching out for you. Was gutted when I got home and you were there."

It was so long ago now that it's almost hard to believe Jeongguk remembers it as clearly as he thinks he does.

"Looking for somewhere to charge your phone," he laughs softly, shaking his head, as he recounts the memories. "Just for you to end up forgetting it. What will we do with you, hey? Silly, pretty baby."

Your face scrunches up at his recollection of the details. Had you never gone home with Jimin, then perhaps you'd have never ended up here—but you kind of wish it had never happened. Wish that you'd stayed by the bar all night. That you'd have had the water Jeongguk gave you. That you'd have sobered up by the time he finished his shift, and asked if he wanted to walk you home.

The 'you' of present day is not the you that shot through the bar that night with reckless abandon for who got blinded by your shine. You wouldn't have stayed, if you'd have gone home with Jeongguk. Or wouldn't have asked him to stay. Would have fucked him and never spoken to him again.

Or maybe you wouldn't have. Who knows?

"Sorry it was all so... messy," you offer a little sheepishly.

Bad decisions were made by you both—but stars can only form when dust clouds collapse. You needed to break a little before you could become who you were meant to be.

Jeongguk shakes his head.

"Messy can be good," he promises, then adjusts you both. Pulls you across his lap. With a leg either side of his, you let your nose find its home next to his. Smile as his hands stroke up your back.

"Yeah?" You whisper against his lips.

"Mhmm," he mumbles, letting his lips sink into yours for a moment, before adding, "Got a canvas we made together that proves it."

The curve of your lips as you press into the kiss can be felt by him. Just gets him smiling, too. As his lip ring presses into your plump bottom lip, part of you wishes you were back in those damn busan photobooths. Want to see what it looks like. How you move together.

Slowly, he encourages your hips to languidly grind. Keeps the momentum slow, you both ignore the chaos of the club that echoes around you. He controls you with a hand on your waist, the other resting on your bare thigh.

The dress you're in—the one he chose—is everything he could ever want and more from an outfit on your body. It sparkles like the Han river under Banpo bridge during the evening light show, and clings to your body like droplets of water slowly sinking down an ice sculpture. Provides him with easy access, yet leaves his imagination free to go wild.

He knows your body well enough, now though. Knows the underwear you're wearing. Is impatient. Wants to push them to the side and get his hard cock buried in your tight walls.

Good things come to those who wait, though, and Jeongguk is more than willing to be a good boy for you.

Hidden in the darkness of the club, the thudding music is no match for the beat of your hearts. Lights splash you in colour every so often, but for the most part, you revel in your obscured entanglement.

His tongue slips into your mouth, and your hands tangle in his hair, deepening the kiss. You can feel how hard he is beneath you as you grind on his lap. It'd be easy, you think, to fuck him right now.

Jeongguk is right—good things do come to those who wait.

And he's been such a good boy.

You let your lips trail down to his throat. Latch on to his sweet spot just beneath his ear. Suck. Graze your teeth. Do the same to his earlobe, and feel his grip tighten. A moan vibrates in his throat.

Lips brushing against his ear, you whisper, "Phone."

Though your tone is soft, Jeongguk knows it's a command. Digs into his back pocket, keeping you firmly in place. The movement just has his thick bulge pressing even deeper against you, as his grip on your waist gets tighter.

It has you smiling; giddy with how glorious it is to have a man of such calibre so greedy for you.

It's not like it isn't reciprocal. Never before have you ever been so feral for a partner; so risky in your need to have them experiencing bliss because of you. Before Jeongguk, sex always served a purpose. Was never just sex for the sake of sex. There were deep-rooted issues and insecurities you were trying to fix.

But you're secure, now; in his grip, his hands, his heart. You don't have any ulterior motive for the things you do other than an innate need to make Jeongguk come undone. His buttons, his belts, his primal need to make you his; you'll undo them all.

Flicking open his camera, you stay in his lap as you reach across the sofa and rest the phone up against the wall that separates it from the next booth over. Tap on the little red record button. Though the lighting isn't entirely clear, enough bleeds in from the LED screens behind the DJ to clearly show the pair of you. Once his camera settings adjust to low light, you may as well have the main lights turned on.

Jeongguk raises a brow, tilting his head with sweet, puppy-like confusion.

"We're drunk," you tell him, as if either of you need any liquor to behave like animals. "Wanna make sure you remember this in the morning."

Jeongguk's hips push upwards as his hands on your waist keep you tight against his lap. "You think I ever forget fucking you?"

"Who said anything about fucking?" You tease with a smirk, biting down on your bottom lip.

He groans.

"If you blue ball me again, I'll die," he tells you. Flails a little. Leans back against the booth. Pouts. Wait for you to lean closer and deliver a pretty little kiss to make him feel better.

"We can't fuck here," you tell him with complete certainty, as if that's not exactly what you're hoping for. "Anyone could see us."

No one would be able to see you in this position, and you damn well know it, but it still feels incredibly exposed. You're a few metres from your friends and hundreds of other random club-goers. If you were to peep over the balcony railings, your hiding spot would be revealed.

"So?" Jeongguk smirks. "Everyone knows we fuck. Bet you they've imagined it. And you know how pretty you are when you cum? Everyone deserves to see that at least once in their life, B."

"We're gonna end up at an orgy one day, aren't we?" You tease him for his sheer unrelenting need to show you off.

He shakes his head. "Fuck no. Ain't no way anyone else is ever gonna touch you."

"No?"

"No," he tells you, stroking his hand up your chest and tightening his grip around the base of your throat. "You only cum for me."

It's a statement just as much as it is a command.

The thoughts are in Jeongguk's head now, though. You, and those cosmic calamities you call your eyes, and how they'd stare him out as someone else fucked you. The feeling gets under his skin and pollutes his heart. Pumps sulphur into his veins. Turns his blood green.

"Say it," he grits, as his hands move down to cup your chest. "Tell me who you cum for."

Yanking down the material of the top of your dress, Jeongguk wastes no time. Repeats a similar action with the cups of your bra. Gets your chest exposed.

If either of you were to look at his phone screen, you'd find your silhouettes look like fuckin' sin—but all you can focus on is him.

His lips latch around one of your nipples, harshly sucking your tit into his mouth. His hand massages at the other, pinching and rolling your nipple between his thumb and finger. Head tipping back, you continue grinding against him. Don't give him an answer 'cause it feels too good to focus on anything else but the sensation of him.

You indulge in the sheer volume of the club speakers. Moan without reservation. Gasp as he pulls away and delivers a sharp spank to your tit, before latching onto your other nipple.

The way your hips grind even deeper against him is testament to how badly you want him; the wetness seeping through your underwear and onto his trousers.

He grazes his teeth against your nipple. Makes you shudder. Licks. Kisses. Sucks again, then pulls away with an oh-so-satisfying pop. Holding your chest with his hands, Jeongguk is stern as he repeats: "Tell me who you cum for."

You could do it. Could say him. Could do as he asks.

Thing is, you don't think he really wants that.

You think he wants to be mean.

And you know you want him to be mean.

With a small shrug, you widen your eyes. Feign innocence. Like butter wouldn't melt, you suppose, "Anyone who touches me right."

He scoffs.

There's a look in Jeongguk's eyes that promises you that he'll get you leant against that damn balcony while he fucks you just to prove a point—not only to you, but to any fucker who thinks they could ever make you feel the way he does.

"Word?" He grits.

"Chess," you say without hesitation.

It's the green light he needs, but still he tells you, "Gonna be mean."

As much as he enjoys playing the roles of a person he's not when he fucks you, he also never wants you to ever take it to heart. Loves you so purely that he'll always do what he can to keep you comfortable.

It's cute.

Also entirely irrelevant right now, 'cause you want him to be mean.

"You're gonna try ," you tease.

Jeongguk scoffs, again. Likes how bratty you can be. Smirks. Knocks his head to the side. Shakes it. Grips your tits a little harder, then spanks one of them and is pleased with how your body jolts.

A wanton moan escapes your lips. Eyes on his, you're Jeongguk's to devour.

"You think anyone else could get you like this, huh?" He grits, dropping a hand to your spread legs. Sinks his hand between his crotch and yours. Is greeted with evidence of your arousal. Strokes his fingers against you. Gathers some of your slick on his fingers, and is ever so pleased when your lips part for him without a word. Sinking his fingers into your wet, wanting mouth, Jeongguk smirks. "Needy little slut."

The vibration of your moan around his fingers just confirms everything Jeongguk already knows.

He laughs. Is arrogant. Cocksure. Obscenely hot. Your brows furrow as he pulls his fingers from your mouth, before he grips the base of your throat again.

"If you aren't gonna use that mouth to give me serious answers, you're gonna use it for something else instead, aren't you?"

Oh, you're eager . Don't need telling twice. Are off his lap and sinking between his legs without even so much as a guided instruction.

"That's it," he husks as you quickly undo his belt. His trousers, too. Tug them down his thighs. Get his Calvins on show, and his furiously hard cock tenting in them. Your lips press kisses against the fabric, tongue wetting his shaft through the cotton. "Stop fuckin' teasing, baby. Suck it."

If there's one thing you know about Jeongguk, it's that he gets whiny when he doesn't get his own way. On your knees, eyes flicking up to his lust-laced features, you're not gonna be a good girl for him just 'cause he wants you to be. You're gonna hold out. Gonna get him whiny. Gonna—

"You know how many girls down there want this cock, huh? How many waste their time at the bar vying for my attention?" Jeongguk arrogantly smirks. Watches the change in your expression. The hardening of your eyes. The power relinquishing from you to him. The sulphur that's transferred. The club lights paint you in green. He licks his lips. Says, "If I want my cock sucked, I can get it sucked. Give me a reason not to."

Back in the early days, you and Jeongguk had been through his message requests together. He'd downplayed it, but you know it's true. Girls practically drool on the Dionysus bar for him.

If he wanted to, he could.

But he wants you.

Only ever wants you.

You're feeling challenged, though. Are petty. Shrug, "You know how many people hit on me by that very bar?"

He does. Has seen it himself. And has also seen how quickly you dismiss it. Never feels threatened.

Your hands work in tandem, one of them pushing up the bottom of his shirt to reveal his toned abs, the other tugging down on his boxers, revealing his cock.

There's something celestial about having Jeongguk like this. Hard and weak at the exact same time. The tip of his cock has the sheen of precum spilling from his slit, and you don't think you've ever seen him this hard. He's needy. Pathetic. Gorgeous.

Your tongue licks a stripe up his shaft, and Jeongguk's eyes close. His hand finds a home in your hair as his gaze lands on you again.

"I could do this for them," you assure him. Though the music is loud, Jeongguk reads your lips. Twitches as your tongue flicks against his slit. Lips pressing a kiss to his tip, you jerk him a little just to remind him of who is in the position of power right now. "Could fuck anyone I want."

Jeongguk smiles at this. Finds it funny. Cute, even.

"You could," he acknowledges. Tightens his grip on your hair. Gets you back in position, your lips wrapping around his cock as he begins to encourage a momentum. "But I'm still the only one who'll make you cum, aren't I? Could slut yourself out, but it's still me you'll be thinking about. Me you'll be wishing you were with. Me who you'll crawl back to 'cause no one else satisfies you."

With every sentence, he fucks his cock deeper into your mouth. Is practically hitting the back of your throat. Getting your eyes all watery—and he knows your pussy is even wetter.

He lets you do the hard work, but makes sure he pushes your head to the right rhythm. Keeps your movements shallow, focused on his tip, now. Is after one thing and one thing only.

Which is why when he starts moaning in a way that you know means he's close, you pull away.

"Fuck," he hisses, almost keeling over in his seat. The look he gives you is one of sheer disbelief.

"What?" You smile as if butter wouldn't melt. Pretend like you didn't realise he was about to spill over. "You wanna cum, or something?"

"You know I—"

"Go get one of your other girls, then."

Dragging you up onto his lap, Jeongguk laughs, clutches the sides of your face with his hands. Nudges his nose against yours. Doesn't care to keep up the pretence anymore, 'cause he's sensing a nerve was struck.

Even if you are just being petulant for the sake of it, he doesn't ever want you to feel like it's a viable option. Says, "You know I don't want anyone else. Stupid."

"S'not what you said," you childishly pout against his lips. You know damn well he didn't mean it. Honestly, hearing him speak with such arrogance was a turn on; the acknowledgement that even though he's desired, you know he's chosen you. "You said—"

"Hey—you said you could fuck anyone down there," he reminds you. Presses a feathery kiss against the tip of your nose. "And you could. I don't want you to, though."

"No?"

"No, Byeol," Jeongguk whispers against your lips now. Lets his hand sink to your underwear. Pushes them to the side. Lines you up against his shaft. Encourages you to rock ever so gently, coating him in everything you are. "Want you forever, B. Just you and me. You want that, hmm? This, forever?"

Jeon Jeongguk has this way of making you feel powerful and pathetic all within the same moment. You want him so badly it hurts. And so you nod. Raise your hips. Line the tip of his cock up with your entrance. Remind him, "No one else makes you feel like I do. They never will."

It's funny, 'cause that's exactly what Jeongguk was wanting to hear from you earlier. If he really wanted, he could be a dick—but you're the one being needy now, and he likes it so much. Adores it, even. You're so cute , he thinks. So he shakes his head. "No one, baby. Just you."

"You're mine," you tell him, then sink down onto his length. Both of you gasp from the sensation. You've been waiting for this; desperate for it. Foreplay is fun, but all Jeongguk ever wants these days is to utterly and completely lose himself in you. This, to him, is Nirvana.

He nods. Lets his eyes close as your walls adjust to his size. He's so big that it should be painful, but there's something about fucking Jeongguk that just works. The fit is snug, but it's perfect. "Yeah, baby. Yours."

Your hips grind ever so gently, the feeling of fullness he gives you hitting just right. Clit rubbing against his neatly trimmed patch of hair above the base of his cock, you're overwhelmed with just how good it feels to give yourself up for him.

As the sensation settles in, he encourages your movements. Gets you bouncing, his hands on your ass to keep control. Presses wet kisses to the base of your throat. Promises, "You're gonna make me cum so hard."

A man of traditions, Jeongguk takes 'ladies first' incredibly seriously. Knows he's been edged so well this evening that he won't last long at all. Needs to make sure you get there before him.

He sits you up straight. Stops your movements. Has you warming his cock as he just kind of stares at you for a moment. Everything else is drowned out around you both; the music, the lights, the fact this is Jeongguk's place of work, the way his phone is still recording you both.

With a hand on your waist, he holds your cheek with the other. Smiles as your eyes close, head sinking into his touch. Is so in love with you it feels like his heart might just explode.

"My pretty girl," he grins, biting down on his bottom lip. Shakes his head as if he can't believe his luck.

Your chest is exposed, pretty purple posies blooming on your skin from his lips. There's a sheen of glitter all over your body, and Jeongguk knows there must be one on his, too. It's getting harder to distinguish the pair of you as the days go by; your orbit growing smaller.

Both of his hands drop your pussy. One spreads your lips, while the other slowly rubs against your clit. Instantly, you tense a little, the pleasure pulsing through you.

"My pretty, needy girl," he corrects himself, and is incredibly pleased when you nod.

As one of your hands wraps around his wrist, you try your hardest to not start fucking him again. Want this feeling to persevere, but also innately want to coax an orgasm out of him. It's human nature. He's building you up. You wanna do the same right back.

Thick and firm inside you, Jeongguk's cock throbs from just how tightly your walls clamp around him when he begins toying with your clit. Head tipping back, the laugh that stutters in Jeongguk's chest has you whining.

"Stop being so hot," he groans. "Gonna make me cum so fuckin' fast."

Admitting this is a mistake, for it just makes you wanna interrupt his plans of making your finish first. Gets your ass bouncing on his map as Jeongguk desperately tries to hold himself back; to regain a little control. It's a fruitless endeavour. The silky warmth of your cunt is too good.

"Fuck," he grits, giving into the feeling. "B—"

His words are cut off by your lips stealing a kiss from him, that he then steals right back. Messy and without any considered thought behind them, your kisses dissolve into frantic, breathless whimpers. Jeongguk can't hold off.

Head knocking back, Jeongguk's grip on your waist tightens. He holds you down in place, his thick shaft filling you entirely. He's bottomed out; fully encased in the woman he loves. It's too fuckin much. His legs shake. Chest shudders.

And then it's happening; thick ropes of cum spurting into your cunt, filling the spaces he can't reach. He just wines. Whimpers. Curses. "Fuck. Cumming. Making me cum so fuckin' hard, babe. Fuck. Oh, fuck, this cunt. So fuckin' perfect."

His praise is met with the sweetest of giggles, which only encourage him to cum even harder . Both endless and over far too soon, Jeongguk cums so deeply inside you it feels like he's losing all the oxygen in his brain; like a trap door has been pulled beneath him and he'll never stop falling.

Lips finding yours once more, he eases his grip on your hips. Encourages slow strokes of your pussy up and down his cock just to ease the final spurts of cum out of him.

With a laugh and an incredibly heavy chest Jeongguk leans back once more. Shakes his head. Can't stop smiling. Nor can you.

When his gaze finally lands on you a moment or so later, he's still grinning as he whines, "I wanted to make you cum first."

As mad as it sounds, making Jeongguk cum is satisfying enough for you.

He would disagree. Thinks the concept of you not cumming is pure insanity. How anyone could have you like this and not strive to make you come undone is criminal. Also knows he can't stay inside you for much longer, 'cause the overstimulation might just kill him off.

Pressing a kiss to your shoulder, Jeongguk leverages his position. Lays you down, your head near his phone, his cock still inside you. Kisses the base of your throat as he reaches up for his phone. It's warm from the battery being drained, but it's still recording. He leans across and stands it up against one of your drinks on the table. Not much is in frame—but enough to capture his soaked cock glistening under the club lights as he pulls out of you.

Jeongguk is impatient. Tucks himself into his boxers and sinks down immediately. Plugs your hole with his fingers, keeping his cum inside you. Latches his lips around your clit. Sucks. Whines. Vibrates. Makes you writhe as your back arches, legs wrapping around his head.

If heaven is a place on earth, Jeongguk knows it must be between your legs.

His tongue strokes against you as his fingers curl. There's little care given to how messy it all is. If anything, it just makes him like it even more. Wants to fuck you all over again, but knows his cock isn't up for it yet, even if he is.

There's a small shudder to your body; a little warning sign that Jeongguk is edging you closer and closer to coming undone. Just a little more and you'll be there.

He withdraws his fingers, and sinks his tongue to your entrance. Gathers his cum on his tongue, then spreads it all over your needy cunt. Lays claim to you in a way that no one ever has before. Spits. Flicks his tongue so rapidly against your clit it's hard to comprehend. Gets you shaking. Shuddering.

And then he's sucking, fingers plugging you once more. Your body writhes, and he holds you in place. Sucks harder. Fingers faster. Shakes his head, still sucking on your clit. Releases your with pop and then delves back in.

You whine his name, but it's obscured by the bass pumping through the speakers. All you can do is focus on him. How he feels. How much he wants you to feel good, and how well he succeeds at it.

The pressure builds like a star about to burst—and then stardust is scattering around you both, your orgasm disrupting the very atmosphere you're orbiting in.

Sparking through you, the sensation of your orgasm almost makes you fucking cry. Your body shakes. Jeongguk doesn't relent. Goes until you're spent, legs jolting, whimpers pathetic.

Overstimulated and overwhelmed, you encourage him up. Get his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth. The taste of his cum intertwined with yours only serves to make you whine even more.

The pair of you are spent and sticky, and somehow still desperate for another.

He's the one who eases up first. Pulls back. Presses kisses all over your face. Your neck. Your chest. Your lips once more. Whispers with a smirk, "You got jealous ."

"Didn't," you pout a little.

"Did," he grins, letting his body collapse on yours, 'cause there's no way he wants to go back down to the dancefloor. Not yet. "Jealous and possessive."

"Says you," you huff a little, stroking up and down his still-clothed back with the tips of your nails. Part of you wishes you were home, in bed, clothes tangled in a pile on the floor. It's okay, though. You know it's where you'll end up.

Head on your chest, Jeongguk holds your tits just 'cause he can. Gets one of your nipples in his mouth, again just 'cause he can. Sucks. Pulls back just to say, "Oh, yeah. I was. Fucking hate the idea of you with anyone else." His lips latch around your nipple again, until he takes a second to add, "I'm literally in love with you."

You're caught between laughing and moaning when his lips wrap around your other nipple. There's no reason for him to be toying with you in the way that he is. Both of you have finished. He's just doing it 'cause he likes it.

"You're in love with my tits," you brush off his declaration.

Shaking his head, nipple still in his mouth, he looks up at you. Poutily lets your nipple slip from his lips. Assures you, "I'm an ass guy," then presses your tits together to get both of your nipples in his mouth at the same time.

"You're an ass, full stop," you laugh. "Lucky I love you."

Now this does pull his attention away from your chest.

"Yeah?" He grins, repositioning himself so that his nose can nudge against yours. On top of you, his chain pools against your chin—and then his lips are sinking into yours, pretty kisses taking the place of needless declarations. You both know exactly how you feel about one another.

"Yeah," you nod into his kisses. "So much."

By the time you finish your mindless chatter in the form of aftercare, Jeongguk's phone has a low battery warning on the screen. Neither of you even wanna think about how long that damn video must be.

You set the world to rights; finish your drinks, and cosy up together just to indulge in a little more time alone—but the night is getting away from you. Your friends will be wondering where you are.

Glancing around to make sure you haven't forgotten anything, Jeongguk's face bunches up when he clocks the security camera he'd forgotten about in the corner of the booth. Nods, to drag your attention to it.

"Yeonjun's gonna have a field day with that one," you grimace.

"I'll delete it before he can," Jeongguk promises you.

Far more sober than you both were earlier, Jeongguk deposits you off with your friends when you get back down to the dancefloor. Ignores their questioning of where you've both been. Gives you a quick kiss before he goes to the bar.

Yeonjun's brows seem to be perpetually raised—but it's just 'cause his eyes caught the glimmer of the booth door being opened half an hour ago, and knows damn well exactly where Jeongguk has been.

The fact that Jeongguk's hair is pointing in all different directions only confirms exactly what Yeonjun thinks he must have been doing.

"Need to go into the office," Jeongguk tells Yeonjun, but is met with the shake of his head.

"No need," Yeonjun deadpans. Leans a little bit closer. Assures him, "Cameras are off. Your secrets are safe, boss."

Jeongguk wants to die. Not for the fun reasons he normally does, but for the sheer embarrassment of his junior almost reprimanding him.

He also doesn't trust the cerulean-haired fucker as far as he can throw him.

"I'm still gonna check."

"Fine. But you'll owe me 20,000."

"Huh?"

"It's a bet," Yeonjun says. "I bet you 20,000 that they're off."

If Jeongguk wasn't already convinced, he is now. Yeonjun hates losing these dumb bets.

Still, Jeongguk agrees.

Not even two minutes later, he's walking back by the bar, chewing on minty gum that's kept in the office for far more innocent purposes than this, dropping two 10,000 won notes down for Yeonjun.

"You're welcome!" Yeonjun shouts after Jeongguk with a smug grin. Shakes his head. Puts on the thick accent of an old man and mutters to himself, "Kids these days. Randy bastards. No decorum. No class. Just hormones and bad decisions."

But as Jeongguk is drawn to you in the crowd, like a stargazer is drawn to Polaris, he knows that for all the bad decisions he's ever made, there is one universal truth: No decision has ever been better than making you starfuckers on that very first night.

Arm looping over your shoulders, he presses a kiss to the side of your head. Steals Jimin's drink from him. Gags when he realises it's neat tequila. Offers it to you regardless. Apologises when you also gag.

The night is lost to Dionysus. Just like its namesake, the club is a cesspit of sin and debauchery, but it's impossible not to love the way it feels.

You don't leave until the final song of the night.

"My place or yours?" Jeongguk asks as you meander down the street together, a little behind the rest of your friends. With convenience store snacks in your hands, Jeongguk's phone dead in his back pocket and your clutch bag in his hands, the pair of you are the poster children of a reckless youth maturing into something far better.

Gone are the days of seeking out new strangers, or living for the weekends.

This is it, you think. An endless back and forth of his place, or yours, until one day it'll become obsolete.

So you indulge in what little you have left of the early days. "Yours."

"You know Jimin'll wanna watch The Notebook in the morning, right?" He reminds you with a smile. Is at such ease with his life. Isn't sure what he did to deserve it all.

"Oh, I'm counting on it."

Choosing to walk the half an hour distance it takes to get back to Jeongguk's place, instead of opting for a taxi like the others to their respective homes, you and Jeongguk revel in the early hours of the morning. Talk nonsense. Talk business. Talk nonsense about business.

Time wasted with him is really not wasted at all. Even if the sun is coming up by the time you're entering his building, nodding at the doorman, neither of you are tired of one another. It's hard to imagine a reality where that would ever be true.

When you reach his apartment door, both of you stop in your tracks. It's still on the latch. Ajar. He glances over to you, brows furrowed. Steps in front of you, tucking you in behind him.

Says, "Keep quiet."

Slowly edging the door open, the entryway is a mess. Where a neat pile of shoes typically sits, clothes are strewn. It confuses him for a second—until he hears something that makes him dry heave.

He pushes the door fully open, and is met by Jimin cosplaying as his best Jeongguk impression, eyes wide, like a deer in headlights. His hands are over his crotch, naked and bare for all to see. Behind him, a half-naked girl darts to his room.

Both you and Jeongguk look at Jimin with equal parts shock and horror.

"At least close the bloody door!" Jeongguk almost shrieks.

"I thought you were going to DB's!"

"Well apparently not—wait," Jeongguk looks around the room. Recognises the clothes. So do you. Knows exactly who was wearing them earlier that evening. Gasps. Whisper-shouts, "Is that—"

"Shut up!" Jimin whisper-hisses back, and retreats backwards, hands still covering his modesty as if neither you nor Jeongguk have ever seen it before. "You didn't see shit!"

He escapes into his room, and you do hear his lock go, just to be safe.

Both you and Jeongguk look at each other in a state of shock. It's only broken when you say, "Well I guess he won't be watching The Notebook tomorrow."

But Jeongguk shakes his head. Nods towards the deep navy dress that's crumpled on the floor beside Jimin's shirt. The same dress Nabi had been in earlier that evening. Says, "It's her favourite film. She's the reason he watches it."

And on the counter, rests a flyer from the gallery event. It's folded into the shape of a butterfly.

Looks like the ones Jeongguk always attributed to Hayun.

It's only now that he realises he'd been wrong this whole time.

Just like Jimin watched The Notebook 'cause the girl he could never seem to get over loved it, Hayun made paper butterflies, 'cause her best friend taught her how to make them. Said it'd be a good little party trick to make boys fall in love with her.

And it had been—but it had also just been an entirely fabricated part of her personality. The irony of it all isn't lost on Jeongguk. All he can do is laugh. It confirms everything he already knew: he never understood love until you came along.

"What is it with us and walking in our housemates shagging?" You laugh as you kick off your shoes, unaware of Jeongguk's realisation. Sure he'd told you about Hayun's butterflies before you made your first birds, but it was so long ago that it's a distant memory, now.

"No idea," Jeongguk grins as he follows suit. Holds your hand as you head towards his bathroom. Forgets to grab his towels, but doesn't care even when he remembers. Will risk the naked dash across his apartment later. All he wants is to be with you right now. "We're not far off, though. Yoongi practically caught us at it earlier."

You hum as Jeongguk starts the shower, checking yourself over in the mirror as you discard your dress. The hickies bestowed upon you are ridiculous. The teasing from your friends will be relentless.

"Maybe we should stop being so reckless," you suppose with a glint in your eyes that Jeongguk catches as he turns to study you in the mirror. Slipping your dress off, you keep your eyes on him.

"Where's the fun in that?" He grins, coming to stand behind you. Dipping his lips to the base of your neck, his hands hold your hips. His kisses are gentle. Sleepy.

"So you want to get caught?"

"Never said that," he mumbles. "But I do want everyone to know you're mine, so if that's what it takes..."

"A ring would do the job just fine," you tell him without much thought. "Far less embarrassing, too."

Jeongguk rests his pointy chin on your shoulder. Looks at you in the mirror. "A ring?"

It's only now that you realise the gravity of what you've said. You're tired and your brain isn't really functioning right and oh god—you've barely even been dating for five minutes. It's too soon for any of that.

"Well I've already got a necklace," you try and downplay it, reaching up to touch the silver bird that sits between your collarbones. "Earrings work, too."

Jeongguk smirks. Stands. Rids himself of clothes, and walks to the shower. Tests the temperature of the water. Nonchalantly says, "Always thought you hated the idea of marriage."

"It's archaic," you casually reply, unclasping your bra, and letting it drop to the floor. Jeongguk's eyes are all over you. There's nothing about you he doesn't adore—your need to bicker with him included. "The tax benefits are nice, though."

He nods as you discard your underwear. Says, "I'd make you sign a prenup. Wouldn't want you stealing all my sculptures in the divorce."

" Action figures ," you correct him, joining him in the shower. He doesn't get a chance to argue back, for you're on your tippy toes and pressing a kiss against his lips to remedy the insult you know he's about to feign. "And you're already planning the divorce? That's not very promising. May as well not get married."

He shrugs. "Just making sure I have my ducks in a row before I commit to anything."

"Virgo," you accusingly tease, narrowing your eyes with a terribly hidden smile.

"What was it you said about Virgos?" He teases right back. "That we're written in the stars?"

You can bicker and you can argue all you like—but when Jeongguk has you in his sheets a little while later, curled up against his chest, softly settling into sleep like stardust into the atmosphere, he knows it must be true.

"Sweet dreams, B," he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You mumble a response, half asleep already. Let him do as he pleases as he pulls your hand up to his lips. Barely register it when a tender kiss is pressed to your empty ring finger.

"Obsessed," you murmur against his chest—but also delicately press a kiss right where you know his heart is.

He just nods. Yawns. "Obsessed."

96 notes · View notes

mooodyblue · 11 months ago

Note

hello!!

could I request little!reader x 70s!cg!elvis where reader is at one of his shows in the crowd, and starts to slip due to being overwhelmed and overstimulated, so Jerry (who knows about the regression and picked up on the signs) takes her backstage and Elvis comforts her after the show?

thank you 🫶🏻

pairing: little!gn!reader x 70s!elvis

wc: 1.3k

-> masterlist

normally, you opt out of going to elvis’s shows and when you do want to go—elvis is against the idea because he knows you. his screaming adoring fans, the loudness of the band and his gorgeous voice filling your ears all at once could be a bit overwhelming to someone like you. he never minded one bit. in fact, he thought he was doing you a favor by restricting you from coming to his shows. he was awfully protective of you and you didn't mind it one bit.

he brought you along to vegas for what felt like his millionth show at the international, keeping you cooped up in the penthouse while he did his obligatory duties as a performer. you always wondered what his shows were like. anytime you hung out with his friends and his band, they'd go on and on about how good the show was. it bummed you out, you wanted to be part of the magic too.

so, you brought it up to elvis one day. he said no, but you begged and begged until he caved and said fine, but that jerry would be keeping a close eye on you the whole night. luckily you liked jerry.

he set out a cute outfit for you and told you to get yourself dolled up, peppering you with tiny kisses before he left to head downstairs to perform. you looked lovely just for him, all to show that elvis was yours and nobody else's. you were genuinely excited about watching elvis perform today too, being seated in the vip section beside jerry per elvis's request.

you were being big just for elvis. you wanted to enjoy the night, maybe have a few cocktails, and sneak in a peck on the lips when he came around during love me tender.

but you didn't realize how loud it really got inside that small room. girls were screeching elvis’s name, shouting all sorts of commands and demands from him, the feedback from the mic occasionally piercing your ears (and elvis joking about it to the ground later on)....it began to make you anxious, a weird feeling in your brain and stomach taking over you all at once.

it only got worse once love me tender began to play, everyone quickly standing up and trying to get a piece of elvis as he wandered around the room. he didn't even make it over to you which bummed you out even more.

this concert wasn't how you thought it be and part of you was beginning to realize that elvis was right. it was too much for you.

“y/n?”

your leg began bouncing up and down frantically under the table, your fingers nervously fidgeting with nothing as you rocked yourself back and forth gently. your brain was getting fuzzy now, which made you panic even more. this was the worst place for you to slip, you didn't even know what to do in this situation. you quickly covered your ears in a panic.

“hey, y/n?”

the fuzziness took over and you quickly darted your head to jerry, his eyes concerned as he looked at you. he placed a gentle hand on your back, “hey, you okay?”

part of you wanted to lie and say yes, not wanting to be a big baby and leave early because you were again proven wrong. jerry already got his answer, you gave in and shook your head with your hands still on your ears, feeling tears begin to brim at your eyes.

god, you were so embarrassed. you needed elvis right this instant. you needed him to come off that stage, run over to you and pull you into his big, safe arms.

he couldn't, though. he had a duty to fulfil.

jerry sighed, whispering something over to another one of elvis's friends before getting up with you, taking your hand ushering you through the aisles, and bringing you to elvis’s dressing room. he quietly shut the door behind you and crouched down as you sat on the sofa, noticing your breathing becoming a bit too quick for his liking.

jerry rubbed at your arm, “hey, there. hey. it’s alright. you're alright.”

“w-want daddy.” you cried softly, a sob accidentally leaving your throat.

“i know ya do, hon.” he frowned. “he’s almost done, i’ll sit right here with ya until he comes back out. that sound good to you?”

jerry had such a soothing way with his words every time he spoke. he was sometimes a bit awkward with you, but he was the youngest in his friend group. you had to give him a bit of credit for being able to take care of you too. it wasn't the same as elvis though.

“o-okay.” you sniffled, still unable to control your choked-out sobs as you rubbed at your ears—an annoying ringing sound pulsating right through them. meanwhile, jerry couldn't wait for that damn concert to end.

he didn't know how to kill time, instead awkwardly rubbing your back and trying to have a conversation with you. “so….what's your favorite color?”

at least he tried.

it did help in some ways, your sobbing calmed down—just tears still falling down your cheeks as you tried to interact with jerry.

but in no time, elvis was back in his dressed room, sweaty and panting heavily after another tiring show. to his surprise, he saw you on the couch, cheeks red and eyes swollen from crying. elvis furrowed his brows, looking at you and jerry. “what happened here?”

“it was a lil’ too overwhelming for ‘em.” jerry replied.

no words came out of your mouth, glancing up at elvis as you started to cry—immediately making grabby hands for elvis as you usually did when you desperately wanted his attention.

“oh, my poor lil’ baby. what's goin’ on, little one? hm?” he walked up to you, crouching down and ruffling your hair. “was it too much for yer lil’ ears?” as much as he wanted to admit that he was right, his heart broke at the sight of you.

you nodded, knuckling at your eyes as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. he immediately held you, rubbing your back and shushing you gently. his eyes met with jerry’s as he mouthed a quick thank you and gestured for him to go ahead and let them be.

jerry gave him a thumbs up and headed out, leaving the two of you alone in elvis’s dressing room. elvis pulled away and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips turning into a pout. “no more cryin’ now, ya hear? daddy's right here. shows done, everyone's gone. no more loud noises.” he assured you in a soft tone.

elvis was understanding in situations where you were overwhelmed, although he felt he could never find the proper way to calm you down—he was grateful just his presence was enough for you to let your brain slow down for a few moments. “what do you wanna do, lil? sit here for a min’ or do ya wanna go upstairs with your daddy?”

you let out a sniffle, looking down into your lap. “wanna spend time with daddy.”

his lips formed into a smile and his hand rubbed at your arm gently, “then that's exactly what you're gonna do, baby. c'mon, darlin’.” he stood up and took your hand, going straight to the elevator that took him up to his room. “how ‘bout a lil’ bit of room service? you hungry?” he asked, trying to get your mind off things.

“yeah…okay.” you said quietly, leaning yourself against him with your head on his shoulder. “i want apple juice.”

“apple juice, huh?” he grinned, holding you close. “i think i can arrange that. think i got a sippy cup somewhere, can't have my wittle baby makin’ a mess, can we?”

“no, daddy.” you shook your head. “messes are bad!”

“that's right, honey.” he grinned, pressing his lips against your temple.

once the two of you arrived back to his room—he got you into some comfy pajamas and ordered food. he put some cartoons on for you, making sure you were comfy and cozy with your teddy as he spent the rest of his night comforting you and bringing you the peace that you desperately needed from an overwhelming day.

#elvis x reader #ty for the request <3

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daidonzo · 2 years ago

Text

I guess any thrill will do

You felt like a fish out of the water since you arrived at The Beach.

Granted, it was much better than being on your own playing those deathly games every four to five days, struggling to find food and warmth and not sleeping more than one hour at a time because you had to keep one eye open, never feeling completely safe.

Here, at least there was electricity. Potable water, enough food for everybody.

And people. And parties. And alcohol, and drugs.

The place, however, felt artificial, staged. For some reason, if you allowed yourself to have fun, you thought it would feel as if you were lying. Denying the reality you were in.

That was the reason why you had yet to socialize with anyone, sitting sideways awkwardly in a stool in the bar area by the pool in a very tiny bikini and a knitted see-through dress that left nothing to the imagination. You had finished the fancy cocktail you were served some ago, now playing with the straw, biting its end while you observed those around you.

You were thinking what the best way to approach a group of people would be when a girl, in a blue bikini and dreadlocks appeared next to you, ordering a drink for herself. She sat down, her knees bumping into yours as she did.

‘Oh, sorry! Mind if I sit here?’

‘Not at all.’ You tried to smile at her, but it was all teeth. How long had it been?

‘New to The Beach?’

‘Yep. I just arrived a few days ago. Is it written all over my face?’

‘A little.’ She giggled, grabbing her drink and taking a little sip. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. Lucky for you I’m here now.’ She extended her hand. ‘My name’s Kuina.’

You told her yours, shaking it firmly. You had a lopsided grin, and this time it was for real. Eyes included.

───⋆☆─────────────

The next day you woke up late in the afternoon, extremely tired, but you felt better than ever since arriving at this wasteland. You had made a friend, Kuina.

You had always been a people’s person and a party goer, and yesterday had found out that maybe temporarily pretending you were in an extravagant club in Tokyo where the dress code was beachwear was not that bad. Especially if you had no more days in your visa and you needed to play a game today.

You brushed your hair and teeth, put on a different bikini and the same dress and went to the lobby of the resort, where your new-friend said she could most likely be found. And there she was, in all her shining glory, accompanied by a blonde man in a white hoodie.

She seemed as pleased to see you as you were to see her. Your savior.

You were finally starting to feel like yourself again.

She introduced you to the man, whose name was Chishiya. He was… nowhere near as nice as Kuina, had an air of superiority about him that in any other situation would have made you raise an eyebrow, but now you didn’t particularly mind.

You talked for a bit, about the events of last night, Chishiya only intervening to make sarcastic remarks here and there.

Then, Kuina switched to explaining how The Beach worked.

‘There’s the Hatter, he is the leader.’ You nodded, giving her your full attention. You had met the Hatter when you had been accepted �� he had only asked for whatever cards you had up until that point. He had mentioned there were three rules: always wearing a bathing suit, living your life exactly as you wished (you hadn’t been complying with that one up until yesterday night but you hoped things would change) and death to the traitors, meaning you had to give all of your cards to the resident with the highest number. In this case, the Hatter. ‘But there’s a lot of tension with another group, the militants, the ones with the weapons. The three main members are a scary-looking man who was actually part of the army in the real world, another with shoulder-length dark hair and piercings and a creep with a katana and tattoos. Have you seen them yet?’

You thought for a second, then shook your head.

‘No. I think I would know it if I had encountered them. Specially the creep wielding the sword.’

‘Yeah, I agree. Lucky you, then! Best to try and avoid them, if you want to live peacefully.’

You made a mental note. You didn’t want any trouble, not when things were starting to finally look up.

───⋆☆─────────────

It was time for the game.

You were waiting by the car with some others players – two young girls and a man about your age, wearing a cap. All of you were nervous, some more than others. You shifted your weight from one leg to the other, that being the only thing to actually betray how you were feeling, because you were smiling, trying to ease things up a bit for your teammates.

‘So…’ You clapped, attracting their attention. ‘We are going to play today, on the same team! What are your names?’

They introduced themselves and you were about to do the same thing when one of the best-looking guys you had ever seen approached the car. He was tall, very muscular, wearing a set of camo trousers and a black sleeveless shirt. He had a military haircut and a scar over his eye, which in your opinion just made him even more attractive.

You blinked a few times, trying to focus, and then turned to the newcomer. You were so invested in ogling at him that you didn’t notice the others looking frightened all of a sudden, the girls even taking a step back to try and make themselves seem smaller so as not to draw any attention.

‘Hi!’ You flashed him a half smile. He looked serious, but almost all guys that looked like him did and then they were all big sweethearts. You knew the type. It was your type after all. ‘We are telling each other our names to ease the tension and get to know each other a bit before the game.’ You mentioned yours, realizing just then you hadn’t said it, quickly adding some nicknames they could call you by since you didn’t really like your own name very much. ‘What’s yours?’ You finally asked.

He just stared at you, not saying anything nor showing any emotion. Without responding, he moved towards the driver’s seat, opening the door and nodding towards the vehicle so that the rest of you would do the same.

Turns out you were wrong about there being a little teddy bear below that façade.

‘Well, fuck you then.’ You raised an eyebrow, focusing your eyes directly on his.

He looked… surprised? You didn’t give him time to answer, because you opened the door of the back seat and smiled at the others, who were looking at you as if you were some sort of religious apparition, with a kind of newfound reverence. ‘Come on guys, get in! We are going to do great.’ You sat on the front seat, turning so that you could keep speaking with the others.

You were good at calming people down. You were good with kids, and animals, and the principles applied to them could be easily applied to adults too.

But the hot (and rude) man was running all your efforts. You finally had realized how his presence affected the others, but you couldn’t really understand why, and you were stubborn enough to keep trying.

You saw that he was looking at you from the corner of his eyes a couple of times while he drove the five of you to the game arena, but you had decided you wouldn’t even give him the time of the day, no matter how handsome you found him.

───⋆☆─────────────

Kuina was waiting for you when you arrived.

‘I am so happy that you are fine!’ She threw her arms around you, in a massive bear hug that almost made you trip and fall to the ground. You hugged her back, smiling.

‘Yes! It went well, it was an easy game. No deaths, and five more days to live. So, not bad. Only…’

‘What?’

‘There was this man who was just really… rude. He had a gun with him, I realized later on, so he must be part of that militant group you talked about. Anyway, he didn’t speak, he just looked at me weirdly after I told him to fuck himself. Probably shouldn’t have but I was trying to calm the others down and he just wasn’t helping.’

‘No, not really. But if he was just a low-ranking member it’s pretty much whatever… Who was he, do you know?’

You looked around you, trying to find the man who had played the game with you. It was not hard, he towered over the others, and he was… again, extremely good-looking.

‘That one.’ You pointed with an index finger.

Kuina’s face went pale, as if she had seen a ghost. She looked at the man, then at you. Then at the man again. She opened her mouth, and closed it, and opened it.

‘That’s Aguni.’

‘Well, glad to know his name now, since he refused to tell me when I asked…’

‘No, no. He’s Aguni. The leader of the militants.’

‘You’re kidding.’

‘Nuh-uh.’

‘You told me he was a scary-looking man!’

‘And he isn’t?’

‘Honestly? I found him quite hot.’

Kuina exploded with laughter, bent over, a hand on your shoulder to stabilize herself. Her outburst attracted the attention of Aguni, who looked over at the two of you, and found you staring back.

‘Now he clearly knows we have been talking about him, look what you have done!’ You scolded the woman, but a smile danced on your lips. The situation, you had to admit, was quite funny.

‘Let’s get out of here before he decides to shoot us.’ The woman with dreadlocks said, wiping a tear from her eye, grabbing your hand and taking you both somewhere else.

───⋆☆─────────────

You were sitting by the pool with Kuina and with the new friend you had made in the game, Tatta, who was telling her the story of what you had said to Aguni for the third time that night. The three of you had had a couple of drinks to simply celebrate you were alive, and Tatta and you had even taken two or three shots, to celebrate having escaped death.

‘Stop, it’s not funny. I wanted to try and get to know him because he is my type and we could have died at any moment, so why not act accordingly?’ You had given the same explanation about twelve times, using different words. The other two still found it funny.

‘Look, there comes your boyfriend.’ Kuina pointed out, looking behind you, suffocating a laugh. Aguni was there, followed by the two guys she had described – the one with the piercings and the spine-chilling one with the tattoos.

You had promised to yourself you would never ever tried to speak to him again, because he was very impolite and he had annoyed you. But the you who had said that had been sober and clear-minded and before you even realized, you were standing up and walking towards him, ignoring Kuina’s and Tatta’s warning and futile attempts to keep you seated and away from danger.

‘I know your name already.’ You said to Aguni once you were in front of him, his eyes opening up in surprise, if only just for a second. ‘A little bird told me.’

The man with the piercings, who now you could see had a big, scary gun resting on his shoulder, opened his mouth to say something, but Aguni lifted a hand, ordering him to remain silent.

‘So?’ He was, again, as expressionless as ever.

‘Nothing. I just wanted to let you know.’ Suddenly coming up to talk to him was not such a good idea. ‘And, just so you know, the only reason why I wanted to speak to you is because I think you are hot as fuck.’ You said, chin held up high, with as much dignity as possible, before turning back.

You felt his hand grabbing your wrist before you could start walking.

Shitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshitshit.

‘What’s your name?’

‘I said my name before we left for the game. If you didn’t catch it, not my fault. Good night, Aguni.’

You kept your voice as stable as possible, but there was a slight tremor in it by the time you pronounced his name. You shook his hand off and went back to your friends. You wished you had a way to take a picture of them – their faces were worthy of framing.

───⋆☆───────────── You opened the door to your room the next morning to find the leader of the militants starring at you.

‘Oh God!’ You screamed, jumping on place, clearly startled. ‘You could have knocked! How long have you been standing there?’

‘Not long. I didn’t know if you were sleeping.’

Thank you, still weird, you thought to yourself. ‘And what the hell are you doing here?’

‘The little bird, your friend with dreadlocks told me your name.’

‘So?’

Oh, how the tables had turned. You would have to apologize to Kuina later on. She probably was scared to death now.

‘It is… refreshing to find someone who is not scared of me.’

You were a little bit after the events of last night, but you were not going to tell him.

You frowned. So that was it? You crossed your arms over your chest, examining the guy while leaning on your doorframe.

‘The other one, the one with the big sword. He is much scarier.’

‘You mean Last Boss?’ Aguni had the littlest smile on his face. It suited him. You couldn’t help but grin back.

‘Oh, you have to be kidding me, that’s not how you call him.’

‘It is.’ His smile grew wider.

‘Well, you see? Point made.’

You stood there, in surprisingly comfortable silence, just looking at each other for a minute or so.

‘Do you want to come in or are you comfortable in the corridor?’ You finally asked, earning another one of those smiles.

You hoped it wouldn’t be the last.

#this is not really reader x aguni but oc x aguni #because it is ANDRÓMEDA X AGUNI #but it's fine #aguni #aguni morizono #aguni fic #aguni morizono fic #aguni fanfic #aguni morizono fanfic #aguni x oc #aguni x reader #aguni morizono x reader #aguni alice in borderland #aguni imagine #aib aguni

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from-memphis-with-love · 2 years ago

Text

Songbird Chapter 1 - The Handsome Stranger

Pairing: Elvis x female OC (Valerie Pedretti)

Word count: 2,500

Warnings: None!

Summary: Valerie Pedretti is a quiet, unassuming girl of 22 with little money but a lot of heart who just so happens to turn into a force of nature when she sings. A chance encounter with Elvis in an elevator at the International Hotel changes her life forever, for good and bad.

Las Vegas, Nevada, 1969

Valerie Pedretti was not at all prepared to meet Elvis Presley.

If you had told her she would soon come face to face with the biggest star on the planet, she would have probably laughed in your face. Then, if she realized you were actually serious, she would have at least wanted to look nice. Without question, she’d have spent hours in the front of her tiny, chipped robin’s egg blue vanity primping and preening and making sure her nails were a beautiful crimson red.

Then, she’d have slipped into a knit wrap dress to accentuate her waist or something flirty like that and made sure her ink black locks were curled into place. Her face would be painted to meticulous perfection, having obsessed over every flick of eyeliner, pump of mascara, and swipe of strawberry pink gloss.

In that alternate reality, Valerie Pedretti would've met Elvis looking every bit the star that he was. But life, with its unpredictable turns, had other plans.

Instead, she found herself dressed for comfort in her oldest and rattiest pair of jeans, her hair a tangled mess on top of her head, and she’d been schlepping, with great difficulty, what seemed like the two largest suitcases known to man. She thought her face must have been horrifying, what with the dark circles under her eyes and the sleep-smudged mascara running halfway down her cheeks. Val, as her friends lovingly called her, wanted nothing more than to dart out of the airport, peel off her sweat-slicked clothing, plop into her hotel bed, and start fresh tomorrow.

It had been a horrendously long day. A simple six-hour flight to Vegas turned into a 19-hour odyssey thanks to inclement weather. On the cab ride to the hotel, she didn’t even care to look at the lights illuminating the strip. Normally, her eyes would have been peeled, taking in all the sights and sounds of Sin City as they flashed by the window and melded into one big neon strobe. Instead, she lay her exhausted head down against the inside of the doorframe and drifted off to sleep. Before she knew it, she was shaken awoke by the gruff cabby, drool pooling at the side of her mouth. So attractive.

“International Hotel,” he grunted, his voice an ice bath to her face. As if on autopilot, Valerie stuffed a few crinkled bills into his hands and spilled out onto the hotel's paved entryway in a crumpled, tired heap. The fluorescent bulbs were absolutely blinding, and she felt the rumblings of a searing headache. She fingered inside her purse, hoping to find her sunglasses, and almost broke into tears of joy when she realized she'd remembered to bring them with her. The sweet promise of sleep propelled her legs forward as she pushed the doors open to another world. An arctic blast of air conditioning greeted her. It sent a chill across her sweat-soaked back, making her already uncomfortable clothes feel like shards against her body.

It was 11 pm, but you'd never know it by the comings and goings in the cavernous, opulent lobby. Smartly dressed men walked arm in arm with elegant women decked out in sequined gowns and impressive bouffant hairdos. It seemed as if everyone was either puffing on cigars or sipping on zippy little cocktails and she could scarcely see more than 10 feet in front of her for all the smoke. Impeccably uniformed bellmen milled about while friendly, peppy reservation agents stood at the ready behind a gigantic marble check-in desk.

As she moved closer into the foyer and her eyes adjusted to the light that even her sunglasses couldn’t dim, she realized there were Elvis banners, pennants, and signs everywhere. Shit, was it his opening weekend? If only she could afford a ticket! The people buzzing around must have been fans, mingling in every corner of the lobby and all over the first floor of the hotel. Their elegant clothing belied an excited boisterousness, and the energy in the room was absolutely electric. Standing there holding her meager belongings and looking decidedly out of place in her t-shirt and Robert Clergerie knockoffs, she felt as if she’d been plucked from Long Island and dumped on Mars. Scanning the crowd of revelers in their finery, her clothes had never felt so threadbare.

Even though music was her life, Valerie didn’t have the money to spend on concerts, nor was she the type of person to ask for charity to do so. Her gentle presence caused some to underestimate her and, moving through life with a calm and quiet grace, she often blended into the background. But her soft-spoken voice belied a deep steadiness within (not to mention a wicked sense of humor), and the kind of resolve one attains only from truly having struggled. With her doll-like features and tendency to speak only when she deemed it absolutely necessary, it was easy to mistake her for a fragile and delicate creature. But there was a depth of strength lying just beneath the surface, for Valerie Pedretti’s life had been anything but easy.

Born to a single mother who struggled to make ends meet, Valerie often found herself bouncing from one apartment to another in search of that which eluded her little family most, stability. Her mother worked long hours as a waitress, leaving Valerie home alone for much of the day. The radio became Valerie’s constant companion, and she learned to channel her pain, her hunger, and her uncertainty, into singing. She never knew when her next meal was coming, but she could always depend on her voice to carry her through the bad times.

Ah, her voice. It was a thing of beauty, a rare gift that she honed and fine-tuned to stunning perfection. When Valerie sang, her quiet exterior crumbled to bits, transforming her into a thundering force of nature that could shake the rafters. Transmitting a power that was both breathtaking and awe-inspiring, Valerie’s voice left listeners in a state of bewilderment, for nobody thought it possible that so much power could come from someone so little.

At seventeen, she dropped out of school to work full-time, toiling away scrubbing floors and flipping pancakes just to help her mom keep the lights on. But even though her weary bones ached and her spirit was tired, her inner light wasn’t entirely dimmed. Valerie refused to give up on her dream of becoming a singer. I’m going to see this through, she told herself as she recorded some songs on her neighbor’s tape deck and sent them away into the ether with a prayer.

She spent every spare moment rehearsing and writing her own music, and took every odd job related to singing that was made available to her. Any gig was a good one, whether it was singing a jingle for a supermarket or working as a session singer on one-off contracts. One day, she’d even gotten the call to audition for Frank Sinatra in Las Vegas. Well, technically, she didn’t get the call. It was her friend Deena who did, but she’d come down with mono. Nevertheless, this was her shot, and she was going to make the best of it—come hell or high water.

Someone walking by spilled their drink on her sleeve, and this brought her back to reality. Weaving through the crowd, Valerie found her way to the check-in desk. She cleared her throat.

“I’d like to check in, please.”

“What’s the name of the reservation?”

“Val—uh, Deena Lovelace.”

The blonde woman with a pixie cut whose nameplate said Brenda thumbed the appointment book and, after what seemed like an agonizing wait, found her tired guest’s name. “I’ve got you! You’re in room 2106. Just a moment, please.” She headed into the back to retrieve the key, and Valerie swayed from side to side in order to stay awake.

In an instant, weighty keys were plunked into her hands. Avoiding direct eye contact, she turned on her heel and hoofed it for her room. The hotel was a dizzying array of turns—this way and that—and in her tired stupor, it reminded her of a twisting maze. Her thudding, ungainly steps were muffled by both the shag carpet and the din of the fans congregating in the reception area.

However, as she continued her journey, the ambiance gradually shifted. The hum of voices grew fainter, replaced by an overwhelming silence that signaled she was far from the bustling core of the hotel. Finally, she found herself in a secluded spot, standing alone in front of an elevator. She pressed the button and waited, arms aching from the weight of her bulging valises. Inner Valerie cursed herself for packing way too much.

With no effort at all, she slipped out of her heels and bent her toes backwards and forwards, allowing her feet to relish the feel of the carpet below. It was soft, springy, and just what her aching soles needed. On instinct, she began singing a familiar, yet nameless tune—just a few absentminded bars of sweet little sounds to make the time pass. Notes she’d always turned to when she needed comfort. The thought of washing her face and jumping into bed was the only thing on her mind as the golden doors opened with a tinny ding, only half-startling her out of her exhausted stupor.

The light emanating from the gilt cabin was so intense she hadn’t realized there were people inside. As her eyes adjusted, she quickly shoved her feet back into her shoes, feeling like a complete mess.

"Evening, miss," greeted a man with a shock of red hair and a face peppered with freckles. He held the elevator door with a gesture of gentlemanly politeness, his eyes twinkling with warmth. As she stepped inside, he turned his attention to his companion. The contrast between them was stark.

Beside the redhead in white stood a tall, lean man, exuding an air of effortless elegance. He was dressed head-to-toe in black: sleek trousers, a crisply tailored shirt, and a sharp tuxedo jacket that hung perfectly on his lithe, powerful frame. The one pop of color came from a chic scarf looped around his neck, its pink, black, and white patterns accentuating his perfectly tanned skin. His raven-black hair, styled to perfection, gleamed like quicksilver in the elevator's light. But what really gave him away were the expensive-looking horn-rimmed sunglasses perched atop a flawlessly sculpted nose.

Valerie didn't need a second glance. Even with those sunglasses on, there was no mistaking him. His images, large and in living color, adorned the walls of the hotel's lobby. Everywhere she looked downstairs, his face stared back, and now, she was sharing an elevator with him.

Every ounce of self-awareness about her disheveled appearance vanished instantly, eclipsed by the sheer magnitude of his aura. Her eyes widened to an almost cartoonish extent, and she found herself involuntarily scanning him with exaggerated deliberation—starting from his polished shoes, moving upwards past tailored seams, and culminating at the crown of his meticulously styled hair.

If only he could've peered behind her sunglasses, he'd have seen a gaze not just of surprise, but of utter disbelief. Valerie had never met anyone famous before, let alone a celebrity of his magnitude.

The man she recognized as Elvis leaned casually against the elevator’s plush wall. His observant eyes, always used to the spotlight, now turned their attention to her. He took in her slumped shoulders and the subtle signs of fatigue etched into her features as she leaned into the far wall across from him.

“You’ve had a long day, haven’t you, honey?” His voice, usually filled with the charisma of a performer, now carried an undertone of genuine warmth and concern. It startled Valerie.

She nodded, feeling her heart rate pick up. "I—uh, yeah. No. I mean, yes. S-something like that." She cursed at herself for not being as eloquent as she wanted to.

"Hey,” he soothed. “I get it.” He flashed a smile that seemed to blind her in the already bright cabin. "My name is Elvis, and this here is Red. And who might you be, honey?"

Her intuition was right—it really was him. As if he needed any introduction. A warm blush colored her cheeks. "Valerie," she murmured, her eyes darting downwards. “My name is Valerie.” A small sigh of relief escaped her lips when she saw her shoes snugly in place on her feet and not in her hands.

"Val-e-rie," Elvis repeated, rolling the name over his tongue—savoring every syllable. "That's a beautiful name. Are you in town for a show?"

Valerie shook her head. "Technically, yes. Well, no. Just an audition," she replied, her heart thundering in her ears. Her pulse quickened. She wondered if its rhythmic beats were audible.

“Who for?”

“Frank Sinatra.”

“Too bad. Could’ve used a pretty little voice like yours in my show. Never hurts to have another one,” he chuckled, his eyes dancing with mischief and warmth behind his tinted sunglasses. "Well, I'm sure you'll knock 'em dead," Elvis said, chuckling softly. "You have a lovely voice, I can tell."

Suddenly, Valerie’s cheeks scorched and her throat felt tight. "How do you know that?" she managed to stammer.

Elvis laughed again. "Well, darling, I have a sixth sense about these things," he said. "Plus, I heard you humming just as the door opened. You're just a li’l songbird, ain’t you?"

As Valerie tried to process what was happening, her breath grew rapid and shallow. Every ounce of air she inhaled seemed charged with energy. Here was Elvis Presley, the King of Rock and Roll, not more than three feet from her face, complimenting her voice and giving her a nickname on the spot! She was floored.

Before she could give an answer, Elvis extended a graceful hand and took hers in his. His cold rings practically smoked upon touching the searing heat of her flushed skin. And just as the elevator doors began to part, revealing his floor, Elvis leaned in and whispered with heartfelt sincerity. “Give it your all tomorrow. I’ve got a feeling they’re in for a treat. Knock ‘em dead, songbird.” Valerie shivered. She thought she saw the slightest glimpse of a smirk on his lips.

Then, wordlessly, he smoothly, almost teasingly, stepped out of the elevator alongside Red. All that remained was a cloud of heady, spicy cologne. So utterly captivated and dizzied by the overwhelming rush of the brief encounter was Valerie that she found herself leaning against the elevator’s cold wall for support, lest her legs give out and she crumple to the floor. “What was that?” she muttered to herself in disbelief, frantically pressing the button for her floor. As she ascended, her ragged breaths slowly returned to normal. Her body, coiled like a spring, gradually loosened. Warmth dissipated from between her legs.

It was the first time that Elvis Presley and Valerie Pedretti would meet, but it would be the last time he would ever forget her. Little did they both know that their paths would cross again, in a way that would change both of their lives forever. But for now, Valerie was content to sink into her hotel bed and dream of the handsome stranger she had met in the elevator.

-------------- Tagging you all, because who else would I be without an obsessive rewrite that I wanna show you all? @aliengoth3 @arrolyn1114 @basicpresleygirl @be-my-ally @butler-on-beale-street @buckyysdoll @babylovepresley @ccab @devilsflowerr @dirtyelvisfant4sy @damcoquette @elvislittleone @ellie-24 @foreverdolly @gayforelvis @headfullofpresley @h0unds-of-h3ll @hipshakingkingcreole @heartbrake-hotel @if-i-can-dream-of-elvis @j-v-9-2 @kendralavon7 @kaiistheguy @loving-elvis @missmaywemeetagain @notstefaniepresley @polksalademma @presleyhearted @thatbanditqueen @whatstruthgottodowithit @whositmcwhatsit @precious-little-scoundrel @peskybedtime @shakerattlescroll @vintageshanny @lookingforrainbows @prompted-wordsmith @samfangirls @powerofelvis

#elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley fic #elvis fans #elvis x oc #songbird

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capricornwriter5 · 2 years ago

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OUR SEESAW - Chapter 15

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female OC

Genre: idol au, Suga X female OC, smut, fluff, angst, college romance, friends to lovers, exes to lovers, happy ending. ⚠️Warning: mentions of mental health affections, drugs, explicit sex

Words: 6k

➳ Prev. Chapter

Chapter 15 - Burning Up

Woosung and Hobi's birthday came, and the singer had offered his house for a pre-celebration with his closest circle. It wasn't supposed to be a huge party, just drinking some cocktails and eating some snacks.

Woosung had barely finished bathing and was walking around the house shirtless with his hair still soaked when Emmy knocked on his door.

“Hi! You came ear...” Unable to finish his sentence, Woosung gawked at his friend, his drool practically spilling out. She looked breathtaking in a tiny black dress. "Damn, Emm!"

The girl didn't reply, as she was very busy picking up a box of champagne bottles. "Directly from France to you, happy birthday!" She congratulated smiling from ear to ear and handing them to him.

“Wow… looks like someone's feeling better."

"Has anyone else arrived yet?"

"No, it's still too early, they'll be here in an hour, maybe an hour and a half."

"So... do we have time?"

Woosung was placing the champagne on a table, but upon hearing his friend's words, he turned around with a leering look. "I haven't heard those words in a long time. I thought you didn't want..."

"That I didn't want? Woo, you've known me for YEARS, how do you say something like that? But tell me, what can you offer today?"

"Whatever you want, as always..." He answered in an alluring manner.

"Are you sure we have enough time?"

The eyes, the smile, the way she held Woosung's hands to make him hurry, everything, absolutely all of Emmy's body language showed the excitement she felt.

“That's not a problem, time has never been. And if you're worried about that, it's nothing a phone call can't fix.”

As if that apartment were her home, Emmy walked to Woosung's room with him, and that's when the singer understood what his friend meant. Emm wasn't looking to sleep with him like in the old days, she wanted the drug that Woosung kept.

The singer laughed at himself and was about to try to convince her to have fun together, but seeing what Emmy was pulling out, his eyes widened exaggeratedly.

“Are you planning to mix those two?”

"It's not the first time, why are you surprised?"

"I thought you didn't want something so wild for today."

"Hey! It's your birthday and Hobi's, my two best friends! How can I not celebrate it as it deserves?"

"Sure..." Silently, he watched as Emm used two different types of drugs, and although it was not common for him, he got a little anxious about it. "Emm, you haven't been okay and that's a bit strong, don't you think you should tone it down a bit?"

"This is nothing."

For a few minutes, Woosung did nothing but pay attention to her, dismayed that she would lose control too quickly; however, the minutes passed, and Emmy looked fine.

"What's up with you? When did you start to be the serious and responsible friend?”

"At least she's not yelling at me for not helping Yoongi..." he thought while taking a little of what Emmy had consumed.

Thus, a while passed in which both talked and laughed remembering their last birthdays.

"I had forgotten how wild turned out to be last year's party."

“Do you actually remember anything from that day, Woo? You were so wasted.”

"What I still don't quite understand is how we got to the beach so fast. I mean… we were in the heart of the city and suddenly the sea was in front of me.”

"You say that like you haven't done the same thing countless times." Woosung laughed, and after smoking from the joint he held in his fingers, he remained silent. "What's going on?"

“Nothing, I was just remembering that night. You looked gorgeous, like today… ” Woosung was about to caress Emmy's leg, but the girl didn't allow him, and standing up, she cleared her throat. “Come on, Emm, what's up with you lately, huh? It had never been so long since we last fucked. How much longer will I need to wait?"

Thinking it was a joke, the girl couldn't help but laugh; yet, Woosung looked at her from head to toe, making his intentions more than clear.

"You're joking, right?"

“When have I ever joked about this? I've always taken sex very seriously, mainly if it's with you because it's amazing.” He simply explained.

"Woosung, I have a boyfriend."

"So what? I have had them too, but that has never been an impediment. We're the perfect match, no strings attached, no…”

“I told you that my relationship with Yoongi is serious.”

“I know, I'm not telling you to break up with him. Besides, you told me that nothing would change between us. And look at us now, talking like two average friends when we could be fucking as we’ve done for years.”

“I'm not single anymore, and there's no way I'm gonna risk my relationship."

Emmy called it quits, but for the musician it was not over. It was the first time Emmy had rejected him and she didn't seem to want to change her mind.

"Emm, what the fuck? Are you serious? It's been MONTHS since we were last together. What's different that you're dating Yoongi now? It's just sex."

Ironically, that came out from the only person in that room for whom those words made no sense. He had wanted to convince himself that it was just sex, but it never really was. Knowing that he wasn't going to have anything serious with Emmy, he had settled for sleeping with her. At least for a few nights, he could feel that they were more than friends. If he had managed to be “chill” with the whole Yoongi situation, it was only because he could swear that he and Emmy would continue to have their casual sexual encounters.

“Woo, I truly care about Yoongi.”

"Are you telling me that you went to Capri and didn't sleep with anyone?"

"That's exactly what I'm telling you. Yoongi means too much to me to play with him. I had never thought that I could have something like that with someone, but I have it with him."

“So, you and I don't…?”

"No, Woo. But you have so many beautiful girls waiting for you!”

Emmy winked at him, having no idea what her best friend really felt. Woosung had always been so open with all his relationships and so casual in referring to his sexual encounters, that Emmy could never imagine that he might feel something else. Added to the musician's true feelings, Woosung's pride was hurt that night. It was the first time he heard a no coming from someone’s lips, even worse, from his best friend’s lips, the person with whom he had started his sexual life, with whom he had lived endless experiences and with whom, deep down, he always thought he would have a future.

At that time Woosung couldn't understand two basic things. The first, how much Emmy loved Yoongi, and the second, how dysfunctional he and Emmy would be together. There was no way in which a serious relationship between the two of them could work, they had many issues to resolve. His blindness and pride were about to lead him to make a whole scene of jealousy saying how absurd monogamy seemed to him; however, Woosung was speechless when he saw his friend consuming again.

"Emmy, what…?"

"I think they're knocking on the door. While you open, I'll clean this and go to the bathroom."

************

Since Yoongi had to work late that night, he could only make it to the celebration quite late into the night. He would not miss it just because he had promised Emmy that he would accompany her and because he had given his word to Hobi that he would go; yet something about that party gave him a bad feeling. Jin and Namjoon's messages only confirmed what he believed. They both told him to hurry up because he was missing the best party of his life. And no wonder, Hobi was the life of the party, and as such, he planned quite a lively celebration. Moreover, Woosung had the money and friends to make it an unforgettable night.

Once at the party, Yoongi didn't even have time to suffer from his social anxiety, for the first thing he ran into was his girlfriend, who left him in total shock. Firstly, the girl looked gorgeous, and secondly, Yoongi had never seen her play the popular girl role better than she did that night. She spoke with everyone, laughed with everyone, toasted with many people, and did everything with such naturalness that anyone would buy it. In fact, she seemed to have no trace of the quiet, serious, vulnerable, and even melancholy girl who would come out in front of the piano or when she was alone with Yoongi.

The musician couldn't understand how that was the same person who hadn't eaten in days and who looked overly exhausted. How the hell did she manage to compose herself like that overnight?

A big hug was not enough to greet the musician, who inevitably blushed due to the kiss that Emmy stole from him. The girl grabbed his hand and took him with her to where Jin, Namjoon, Nara, and Hobi were. Sitting next to each other, Yoongi smiled tenderly at Emmy and leaned closer to speak in her ear.

“You look gorgeous, freckles. Are you feeling better now?"

"I'm great!" She responded with a beautiful smile.

Hobi's joy that Yoongi had gone to his birthday led him to distract the musician more than once. Countless times the dancer would take Yoongi along with Namjoon and Jin. They all wanted him to enjoy that night like they did, so they didn't stop buying shots; also, taking advantage that the bar they were in had so many floors with different music, they took the musician on tours that ended with Jin and Namjoon talking to girls, Hobi dancing with strangers, and Yoongi laughing with new drinks in his hand. Due to this, Yoongi couldn't see the number of times Emmy “went to the bathroom” and come back with more energy. Yet, Woosung noticed it and tried to warn Emmy, but he failed caused of how euphoric she was.

Getting to escape from his friends, Yoongi came back to look for his girlfriend and found her with a new group of people. One glance was enough for Yoongi to get an idea of them. Dressed in garments from the most exclusive and luxurious brands, this entire group exuded wealth; undoubtedly, they had been born with silver spoons in their mouths. However, that didn't catch Yoongi's attention, after all, he had gotten used to that by Emmy's side. What captured his attention was the air of debauchery that surrounded them.

Their leering eyes and evil smirks made it clear that they had lived and experienced more than anyone else at that party. Still, none of them looked like a young rookie who would lose control that simple.

Paying closer attention, Yoongi noticed that one of the girls who was talking to his girlfriend, and actually going with her to the bathroom, was the same one he had seen a while ago on another of the floors of the place. The girl tried to approach him to invite him to have a drink; however, Yoongi turned her down. She kept insisting, and even though Yoongi was patient, she annoyed him to the point that he had to tell her to leave him alone, which caused him to earn some rather nasty comments.

He decided to sit down and wait for Emmy to come back.

"Yoongs, there you are! The boys have hogged you all night." She joked sitting next to him. "How did you escape?"

"Namjoon insisted on Hobi drinking more shots and Jin was talking to Nara."

"Do you think they'll get back together?"

"I hope so, he doesn't stop talking about her. But who am I to judge? He says I'm always talking about you, and I think he's right." Emmy giggled as Yoongi interlaced his fingers with hers.

Next to her diamond watch was a hand-braided man's bracelet Emmy had stolen from Yoongi since one of their first piano lessons. She never took it off and Yoongi couldn't help but find that cute. Yet, he could not comment on it, because thanks to the lights he was able to see Emmy's hand better and noticed how pale it was. He instantly raised his gaze to his girl's face and not even with the blush she was using she couldn't hide her paleness. Besides, he sensed how cold her hand was. What had happened? She wasn't like that before he went with the guys for the last time.

"Freckles you're freezing, do you want my jacket?"

"Freezing? That's weird, I don't feel any cold."

"Is that Emmy's boyfriend?" Jiyu, the girl who tried to hit on Yoongi, asked Woosung. She was the granddaughter of the directors of the most important broadcasting network in Korea.

“Hmhm…” The musician replied without wanting to go into much detail.

“Well, he's very handsome, but… who is he? His clothes are pretty basic, luckily he is hot." She commented laughing.

"Why do you want to know, Jiyu? Leave them alone, Emm's happy." The singer responded.

"I wanted to ask the same thing." Said another of the girls, who didn't hesitate to check Yoongi from head to toe. "I mean, I can see why she's dating him, but her boyfriend?" The young woman, heiress to an entire fashion empire, agreed with her friend's comment.

"Who are his parents?" This time was a man the one talking. He came from an important family whose political influence would intimidate anyone.

"I don't know," Woosung replied. “What a lame topic.”

"Lame?" The second girl asked ruining yet another attempt by Woosung to divert the conversation. “We're talking about Emm with a boyfriend, that's anything but boring. Come on, tell us a little more, you are closer to her."

"There's nothing to tell, just that she's happy with him."

"Are you telling me that SHE is gonna settle for a nobody?" The boy asked letting out a wry laugh.

"Hey! Don't be a jerk."

“Woosung, we say this for her own good! You're her friend, you should warn her what will happen if she goes out with someone like that. Emmy's beautiful and popular, but that doesn't exempt her from having to take care of her image. Can you imagine what everyone will say? While Seri's dating who will easily be the next prime minister, Emm's dating someone no one knows who he is." Jiyu wasn't that nasty, but she couldn't bear the idea that Yoongi had rejected her.

“Let her date whoever she wants. Why are we talking about something so serious TODAY? It's enough!" Woosung said, brushing the comments away with his hands and making them laugh. "Look, here comes Nara!" Woosung had never been more grateful to see his friend there.

Meanwhile, Emmy was introducing Yoongi to Woosung's band members. At first, she thought that her boyfriend would treat them with the same seriousness and coldness that he used the first time he met Woosung. Yet, it was rather the opposite, and soon the four of them were comfortably talking, they even made several jokes, for they would never imagine that that boy who looked so serious could be so nice.

After a while, the original group regathered, it was about midnight, and they wanted to toast all together. However, Emmy was not even able to bring the glass to her lips, her pulse trembled uncontrollably from so much drug, so she ended up throwing the champagne at her and Yoongi, who tried to help her.

"Yoongi, I'm sorry!" Emmy's voice had risen unnecessarily as she tried to clean her boyfriend's shirt, but she cleaned everything except where Yoongi's shirt was OBVIOUSLY wet.

"It's okay, baby. It will dry up."

"I'm so sorry!" Emmy stood on her toes to hug him; however, she only got Yoongi to accidentally throw his glass while trying to push it away from her. "Oh, not again! Why am I this clumsy today?”

Namjoon, Jin, Hobi, and Nara thought that their friend had drunk too much, and they joked about it. On the other hand, something really strange happened. Yoongi and Woosung exchanged worried glances. They both knew that Emmy was not okay.

“Emm…” Yoongi whispered taking her hands before she bent down to pick up what was left of the cup. “My love, it's okay, you're not going to pick anything up, it's dangerous. Let's sit down for a while, okay?"

"Just let me go to the bathroom for a moment."

Before Nara could offer to accompany her, Emmy took her bag where she kept what was left of her drug. On the way to the bathroom, several people greeted her, but she did not pay attention to anyone, in her mind there was only being alone in the bathroom to be able to consume a little more.

However, shortly before reaching the bathroom, someone took her wrist, it was Woosung, who got close enough for her to hear him well. "Stop it."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about, you've been consuming for hours."

“Oh! Come on, Woosung! Drop it, this role doesn't fit you."

“Emmy, don't be an idiot! Precisely because I’m the one telling you this you should listen and stop.”

"Why don't you get off my back?"

"Because you're stoned as fuck!"

From where he was sitting, Yoongi could see Woosung and Emmy talking. At first, he wanted to ignore the situation and not be bothered by his jealousy; but he couldn't and kept watching. After all, it seemed strange to him to see Woosung's face so serious.

"Move, Woosung."

"Honey, you're shaking, look at your hands."

"That's nothing."

"Emmy, go sit down, you're gonna make a fool of yourself if you continue… Emm!" He tried to call, but the girl had left him talking to himself.

Woosung's warning should have been taken seriously, but Emmy was too stubborn and drugged to accept it. However, the pressure she felt on her chest after consuming that last time in the bathroom made her stop for a moment. She looked at the mirror and started to feel repulsed at herself. Yet, the drugs didn't let her think clearly, she couldn't even see well, her senses were so sharpened that the lights that surrounded the mirror began to make her dizzy.

“Shit…” she whispered, holding on to the sink and taking a deep breath.

She already knew what was happening to her, she had consumed too much, and her body was demanding her to stop. She tried to regulate her breathing, even wetting her face a little to react. She was scared, but it wasn't the first time it had happened to her, she knew she could handle it. What she didn't count on was someone else walking into the bathroom right during her breakdown.

Emmy's gasp wasn't enough expression for the shock it had on her to see a girl identical to her sister. According to Emm, the girl was the same height, the same platinum hair, and the same cold gaze. Emmy was convinced that she was her sister and that she had found her drugged in a bathroom. In other circumstances, Emm would have been able to see the HUGE difference between that girl and Seri. They looked a bit alike, but not enough to send her into that state of panic.

"Emm, are you alright?" The girl knew who Emmy was, as she was one of Woosung's many friends. She tried to get closer, but Emmy jerked away from her and ran out of the bathroom.

This time not only Woosung was near the bathroom, Yoongi was also there. The interaction between his girlfriend and the singer had made him uneasy; besides, Woosung gave him a look in which he was clearly asking the musician for help.

Emmy came out of the bathroom so hysterical that she was practically running. She walked fast enough that Woosung couldn't stop her, and he was the one closest to her. She violently collided with a waiter who was carrying a huge box full of beer bottles on his shoulder. As expected, both Emmy and the waiter fell over. But that was not all, the box landed right on Jiyu's table, where she was talking with the rest of her group. Everything that happened next was chaotic, as the girl got her dress soaked in beer and she was madly making a whole scandal. The rest of the people were also enraged with the waiter, since the beers not only wet Jiyu's dress, but also their cellphones, wallets, and other belongings.

Woosung quickly walked over to the table to calm down his friends while Yoongi picked up his girlfriend off the floor. Yet, the screams of Jiyu were out of control. The waiter could not do more than lower his head and accept all her humiliations, something that deeply annoyed Emmy and led her to let go of Yoongi's arms.

"Jiyu, stop yelling at him, it wasn't his fault."

"Emmy, stay out! You have no idea what this idiot just did! This dress is haute couture!”

“I already told you it wasn't his fault! I'll pay you back, but stop yelling at him. Can't you be less rude?"

"I don't need your charity, save it for your boyfriend." Jiyu replied.

Yoongi could swear that he had never seen a look like Emmy's at that moment, it was even worse than the one she had when she found out what had happened to Yoongi's songs.

Woosung's jaw dropped upon hearing that comment. He didn't like Yoongi, but he would never dare to say something like that; nonetheless, what impressed him even more was the musician's reaction. The first thing Yoongi did was to stand in front of Emmy and try to calm her down, if he let her, he knew that she was capable of making an even worse scene. Even with his pride hurt, Yoongi didn't think of him for a second.

"What did you say?!" Emmy asked Jiyu trying to move Yoongi.

"Freckles, listen to me! Calm down."

“I said save your charity work for people who need it. Who do you think you're dealing with, Emmy? How dare you offer money TO ME?”

"Don't you dare, Jiyu!" Emmy warned completely losing her temper and after fleeing from Yoongi, she slapped Jiyu with such rage that her hand was printed on Jiyu's cheek.

"Emmy!" Yoongi said a little louder as he grabbed her by the wrist.

Things began to escalate quickly, soon Jiyu's friends had also gotten into the discussion, as well as Nara, who arrived in seconds to defend her friend.

Yoongi didn't want to hurt Emmy, so he tried to get her away from everything by gently pushing her, but Emmy got to slip away every time. On the other hand, Woosung walked away from Jiyu's friends, whom he was also trying to calm down, and totally unlike Yoongi, he pushed Emmy enough to make her stop.

"HEY!" Yoongi said, also changing his manner, but Woosung didn't let him say anything, for he spoke first.

“Get her out of here, if this becomes public, she'll be fucked up. Jiyu's family controls all the damn media, this is gonna be in the papers tomorrow if you don't get her out fast.” Woosung's concern was valid, but he had been late, for it was a fact that that drama would be out the next morning.

On any other day, and possibly on any other occasion, Yoongi wouldn't have listened to Woosung, and Woosung would definitely never have advised him, but that night was not the case. That night they both had the same purpose, so, as a tacit agreement, they worked together.

********

Finally at Yoongi's apartment...

“Why did you take me out like that?! Yoongi, unlock the door!”

“Emmy, you can try all night, I don't have a problem with it, but you're not gonna get it open. You're crazy if you think I'm gonna let you walk out of here and beat someone up AGAIN."

“Didn't you hear how they talked about you? Let me out, Yoongi!"

Yoongi was going to let his girlfriend continue fighting with the door, until a sob made him approach again. This time, the musician wrapped his arms around her and tried to make her forget what had happened.

"I'll never forget it, Yoongs, I won't forgive anyone who hurts you." As soon as she turned around, Yoongi smiled at her tenderly and wiped her tears with the back of his hand.

“Baby, it's okay, I don't care what they say. I'm not going to waste my time with people who need to offend others to feel superior. Do you think it's the first time? It won't be the last either, and you can't react like that. It's dangerous."

"Yes, I will, I'll fight any idiot who badmouths you."

"Freckles, please."

"Yoongi shut up, you're not going to change my mind."

“There are things that aren't worth it, like arguing with people like that. Are you actually going to make a scene every time we go out together and run into jerks? Baby, you must think about what will happen when your family…”

"You WON'T be in front of them ever."

The blunt way in which she responded made it abundantly clear to Yoongi where Emmy stood on the matter. Although the musician was very patient and willing to wait for their relationship to evolve at its pace, receiving that response was somewhat uncomfortable and even painful. He was normally very self-assured, but he couldn't help but think that maybe Emmy didn't want him mixed up with her family because of his socioeconomic status.

“Fine, it's good to know.”

"Wait... what are you thinking?" Yoongi not only kept silent, but he also walked away from his girlfriend and walked to his room. "Yoongs?"

"I'm gonna take a bath."

Sitting on the bed, Emmy waited until the musician got out of the shower. Yoongi's coldness when speaking to her was enough for the girl to beg him to listen to her and let her explain what she had meant.

“I just want to protect you from them, that's all. I don't want you to expose yourself to Seri's hostile comments or Dad's stares."

Yoongi remained silent, waiting for Emmy to elaborate a little more for a change, but the girl was still under the influence of drugs and the only image that her brain kept reproducing was that of the girl just like Seri in the bathroom. Maybe if she consumed a little more… maybe just a little more would help her see things more clearly and be able to converse with Yoongi. But deep down, she knew that consuming a little more would mean she was one step away from overdosing. Had it been a mistake to return to Korea? Should she have stayed on Capri and spared Yoongi all that confusion and distress? How was she going to defend him from her family when she hadn't even been able to defend herself?

And there it was… again the migraine, but this time stronger.

"What do you have?" Yoongi asked as he noticed how she winced while digging her nails into her bedcover. "Emm?"

"My head"

“Wait, I have some pills that…”

"No, no, no pills." Emmy was afraid that mixing one more substance would cause her to lose what little control she had left. "I'll go home and rest."

"No!" Yoongi stopped her even before she was on her feet. "You're not leaving like this, look at you!"

Her heart was beating dangerously fast, she had not noticed it before due to the rush of adrenaline resulting from her meeting with "Seri" and the discussion at the bar. But now that she was in a calmer place and she was more aware of her body, she noticed that her heart rate had increased.

"My love, what do you have, what do you feel?" Yoongi asked seriously worried and remembering Woosung's concerned look when the girl entered the bathroom for the last time. "Talk to me."

The pain in her head was joined by some difficulty in breathing. That couldn't be happening, not in front of Yoongi, she couldn't put him through something like that, she had to calm down no matter what.

“Emmy” Yoongi called a little louder and trying to figure out what she needed him to do. That's how he glimpsed that she was trying to pull down her zipper dress, something he helped her with. "Better?" he asked after helping her into one of his t-shirts and laying her down.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Yoongi was carefully taking care of her; however, it was also impossible for her to fall asleep, because no matter how bad she felt, she wanted to clarify something first.

“Letting you have contact with my family is… it'd be safer to enter into a crocodile pit. I'd love things to be different, nothing would make me happier than taking you home, and introducing you to my parents as my boyfriend, but it's not possible, I'm not gonna do something like that to you."

Since the last discussion, Emmy had been gathering enough courage to tell Yoongi everything from her family problems to her addictions. Maybe that's why she had succumbed to drugs with such intensity in recent days. She was more than aware of how risky it would be to say all that to Yoongi, but despite wanting to do it, fear kept silencing her and it was not a good time to fight it.

She couldn't force herself like that, talking about these topics was equivalent to a very intense effort and impressions that her body definitely couldn't bear that night. In fact, she wasn't even able to continue talking to her boyfriend when she had already fallen asleep.

The next morning, Emmy woke up first, it was barely dawn when her anxiety made her get out of bed. She still did not feel fully recovered, but the crisis had passed.

She stealthily left Yoongi's room and found that Jin's door was open, apparently, the actor hadn't come to sleep. The living room continued as she and Yoongi had left it the night before, and sitting down on a couch, Emmy thought about what she would do next.

No matter how much she thought about it, she kept coming to the same two conclusions. Her first option would be to face her reality, share her secrets with Yoongi, and pray that the musician didn't hate her. The second option was to stop fighting and return to Capri. There, everything would be easier, she would be away from her family, away from the people she could hurt with her actions. Maybe it was the right time to leave before she hurt Yoongi more.

But was she capable of doing something like that?

“Did the headache come back?” a voice asked. Emmy hadn't realized that no matter how stealthy she tried to be, Yoongi woke up and after a few seconds, he went after her. "We need to do something about it, freckles." He took a blanket from the other couch and placed it over Emmy's shoulders. Next, he approached her and kissed her forehead.

She had no more doubts, no matter how painful and difficult it was, she had already made her decision. "Yoongs, we need to talk." Staring her eyes at the musician's, Emmy wanted to record that image forever, if that was going to be the last time they talked, the last time Yoongi saw her with that love, she never wanted to forget it.

Until that moment, Yoongi hadn't felt a few seconds as devilishly long as those in which he looked anxiously at his girl, waiting for her to start talking. But if he was having a hard time waiting, she felt that her world was falling apart. But she had made her decision, she had to stick to it.

➳ Next Chapter: soon 🐱

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talesmaniac89 · 2 years ago

Text

Charity Heist 3 - aka. Front Row Seats to the Gun Show

A Supernatural Heist AU - Masterlist

Pairing: Hitter!Dean x Thief!Reader

Summary: The Singer & Winchester Retrieval Agency is the best group of con artists in the world. But even though Y/N can crack safes, scale buildings and infiltrate even the most secure locations, she still can't find a way to deal with her all consuming feelings for the group's greek god of a hitter; Dean Winchester. How will she handle their next big heist, when she's forced to get up close and personal with the man of her dreams?

Warnings: Idiots in love, smutty thoughts, a lot of swearing and a ton of bad jokes.

Watch the trailer here

A/N: This story is 50% jokes and 50% dirty thoughts. No deep angst, just fun and action! Inspired by the series Leverage.

Y/N = Your Name | Y/H/C = Your Hair Colour | Y/E/C = Your Eye Colour

Start Here - Last - Next

“Alicia Cooper? Really?”

You raised a teasing eyebrow at Dean as he dropped your cover’s details in your lap where you were lounging on the couch nursing a much needed beer after having to deal with Crowley. The damned Scotsman had nearly insisted on being wined and dined until your group had managed to force him out the door to let you start prepping for the heist.

“Shut up (Y/N), it beats some of your cover name ideas,” Dean scoffed, though you could see a tiny bit of pride in his smile from how you’d managed to guess the chosen cover name was one of the ones he’d put in the system. Though it wasn’t all that hard to guess. Most of his naming ideas came from classic rock or pop culture references.

“I think ‘The Artist Formerly Known as Thief’ was an absolutely brilliant cover name thank-you-very-much,” You threw back with a laugh that only grew brighter as Dean dropped down onto the couch next to you and bumped your shoulder. A beer in his own big hand, and a similar folder hiding his own cover identity resting against one of his big thighs. Though his was… Suspiciously thicker than yours.

The folder, not the thighs… Though he did have some deliciously thick thighs.

“Maybe, if you were supposed to be some sort of actual artist, and not a French art dealer,” He retorted with a boyish grin and a wink. Easily teasing more laughter out of you with memories of your evening spent at the Met gala, rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous and pretending you knew your oils from your watercolors.

“Alright… So Alicia is passable. Who is she?” You conceded as you flipped open the cover and picked up the fake driver’s license. A small crease in your brow as your eyes went to the details on the paper under it.

Great…

You were a damned Bond girl again. And not one of the kick ass ones either. Just one of the empty, two dimensional characters added for ‘sex appeal’. Standing around in skimpy dresses and batting fake lashes at the hero of the story with no story of their own to tell. Or at least none they were allowed to tell.

Whenever you were dealing with the mob you normally only got to play the secretary, cocktail waitress or the ‘side piece’ to one of the guys. Which was usually Sammy or Castiel, since they’d handle intel while you scouted for infiltration, and Dean was just too much for your little heart to handle. Spending most of your recons hanging off of one of their arms and pretending you couldn’t kick the ass of everyone in the room, in heels.

“Sorry sweetheart, you know how these mafia types are… They can be kinda misogynistic. I promise, next heist you’ll get the kick ass cover and I’ll be the arm candy,” Dean winked, with a grin that looked anything but sorry.

“Alright, so I’m Alicia Cooper, young heiress and unwitting accomplice who’s just out spending daddy’s money… Got a degree in psychology from KU, but haven’t put it to good use yet. Languages: English, barely. Hobbies: Fashion week appearances, festivals and… That’s it?”

You looked up from the mess of IDs with your smiling face on them and pinched the laughably short list of information about your character between two fingers before glaring at Dean’s much more sturdy background history in his lap.

“As I said, sorry (Y/N). The mob shouldn’t go digging too deep in Charlie’s or your background; we need you guys to be invisible. You’re the aces up our sleeve after all,”

The words left him with a smile against the lip of his bottle. And damn it…

When he pulled that smile, lips a little damp from the beer, the damned gorgeous bastard could get away with anything. Even giving you the cover story of a freaking extra. Your fake cover father’s backstory was more detailed than your own for god’s sake.

“Since there's not much to go on, you can build the character traits however you want, within reason. Don’t go making up any more dark pasts of parents shot in an alley and a lifelong promise of hunting down their killer. Alicia Cooper’s family is all alive and she ain’t no Batman,” He added with a raised eyebrow and a crooked smile. Teasing a chuckle out of you, though you were trying your damned hardest to pout.

“Maybe there’s an uncle…”

“She’s also no Spiderman (Y/N),” Dean gave you an exaggerated eye roll and a fake sigh as his eyes crinkled into that smile that always made you melt.

“Alright, I’ll be Alicia. What about you? Will you be the Mr. Nice Guy to my Cooper?”

Turning in your seat you leaned in to sneak a peak at the folder in his lap. Leaning against Dean’s shoulder, you pretended little shots of electricity weren’t going straight through your arm and into your heart from the small touch as you tried to focus on the words. Pretending you hadn’t just taken the chance to get closer to him. The same way you always did. Finding little, innocent moments to just revel in the closeness of your crush.

Whenever Dean was close, you just felt safer, and more real than you’d ever had the chance to feel in your former life on the run. And you’d noticed a few times that he seemed to be doing the same. Like how his clenched fist had brushed up against your arm when Crowley was busy making an ass out of himself. Using touch and human body heat to ground himself. Though for you, only Dean’s touch would do. Anyone else and it just made you skittish…

Jumpy.

“Not exactly a nice guy, no. I’m Mal Young... Jackpot, AC/DC! I’m the School Days to your School’s Out. Former US military turned arms trader. Should be an easy enough sell for me,” Dean said, eyes skimming the information as he lifted the already empty beer bottle to his lips. Frowning when nothing but droplets hit his lips.

“You always get the cool roles,” You mumbled, sinking back in your seat and frowning at the size of information your combat specialist, hitter and all around heist muscle had to go through while you could already basically burn yours, past glancing over your father’s details and family tree.

“Next time sweetheart, pinky promise,” He hummed, putting his folder to one side as he stood up to go fetch himself a new beer. Stretching his arms over his head, his black t-shirt rode up just a tiny bit, teasing a hint of his perfectly toned stomach and that mouth watering v-shape that you’d love to trace with your tongue. Nearly leaving you too breathless to even notice him walking away without offering you a new bottle as well.

“I don’t need your empty promises Dean, just bring me back a beer!” You called out after him, hoping the combat specialist couldn’t hear how your breath stuck in your throat and your pulse rose from just seeing that small teasing flash of his skin.

Damn him.

Damn his cool roles. Damn his adorable cover name style. And, most of all, damn that fucking perfect body. While all you got was….

Alicia.

---

Since you didn’t really need to waste much time trying to learn your laughably weak cover, you’d quickly gotten antsy watching Dean prep for his. Since him concentrating on his role made it very easy for you to get away with watching him. His jaw clenching as he got into character, getting angry at some past wrong in his background story.

After nursing your second beer and casting not-so-hidden glances at him for nearly thirty minutes, your poor body craved some kinda release. And hell, it was the middle of the day, with thin as fuck walls between each of your ragtag group’s private rooms. Meaning any form of more intimate release would have to wait until the cover of night. So, you’d hit the gym instead.

Rushing to your room, you’d changed into your workout gear quickly before practically skipping towards the large, fully customized gym. Larger than most commercial gyms and featuring every little toy a thief could dream of. Though you weren’t planning on using the climbing wall or even hone your skills against the laser system Charlie had designed for you this time.

No, you needed to tire your body out and make your muscles ache. Which meant it had to be reps and weights. Heavy weights that could stop the butterflies in your stomach from making you take off and float away.

Luckily for you, Sam was already in the gym. Weight training was always more fun with a friend. Especially when said friend was normally your spotter on days where you wanted to work on your strength and endurance.

“Samwich! Just the man I was looking for. Hope you don’t mind the company. Need to burn some energy,” Your voice echoed in the windowless room, nearly making Sam slip from where he was doing salmon ladder pull ups on the other side of it. Teasing a loud laugh from you as you bounced on the balls of your feet, ready to train away your dirty mind and refocus your body.

Pre-heist waiting games were hard enough without your filthy daydreams piled on top of it.

“Really? I thought you were having fun acting like a love sick teen… Alicia,” Sam smirked, easily composing himself and dropping back down to the ground with a soft thud. Damn it. Of course he’d caught you gawking at his older brother.

It was just your kinda luck. Which meant no luck at all. Ever.

You were definitely cursed in some way, though you couldn’t for the life of you think of who’d want to curse little ol’ you. You were a freaking angel… Past the thieving, infiltration, ass kicking, identity scams and other slightly illegal things you got up to that was.

Sam was grinning, he enjoyed teasing you a little too much. Which meant you wouldn’t get to work out until you could shut him up. Never an easy task with the tall-as-a-skyscraper man. It wasn’t like you could just slap your hand over his mouth to stop him from speaking. Not without climbing him like some kinda jungle gym.

He was the little brother you never had, even if he towered over you, and you loved annoying him. But sibling love went both ways, and you knew he saw you as his sister too. Which meant he’d take any chance he got to make fun of you, just as readily as you’d take even the slightest opportunity presented to you to annoy him. Unfortunately, he’d had way more practice at being the infuriating younger sibling than you’d ever had at being the troublesome older sister.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Sam,” You huffed, pulling your (Y/H/C) hair out of your face as you walked across the room. Shooting a quick glance towards the door you just walked through. Just in case Dean had somehow materialized out of thin air and caught his brother’s words.

“What? So you weren’t crossing your fingers, hoping Dean would be your… What was it? ‘Mr. Nice Guy’?”

Rolling your eyes at him, you glared in his direction as you got ready to warm up. However, the scowl you threw at him wasn’t exactly very threatening when paired with how you kept glancing towards the door, worried that Dean would walk in.

Especially not when you bent over at the waist to stretch your body and loosen up to be ready for the work out. You’d yet to find someone who could look threathening while warming up pre-workout.

Sam knew exactly how you felt about his brother. And he never let you forget it. Maybe it was the fact that Dean was just a flirty guy, and you always reacted like a damned teenager whenever he turned on the charm, or maybe how you always found some excuse to stay close to your resident hitter when off the clock, joking around and just enjoying his presence. Either way, Sam was just too smart for his own fucking good and had easily picked up on your feelings.

Luckily those same smarts also meant he knew better than to go tattling to the rest of your crew.

Just because your job entailed sneaking around in the shadows, it didn’t mean you couldn’t kick some serious ass when you needed to. Hell, you’d been in the game since childhood, and since you turned 15 you’d been in it alone, while running from the mafia organization who’d raised you. You could kick his ass any day of the week, and Sam knew it.

Not that you’d guess it from seeing how you fidgeted in place, casting nervous glances towards the door between scowls in Sam’s direction and weak attempts at limbering up. He’d clearly found his calling in trying to be your cupid, and you really didn’t want him to be.

You needed a spotter, not a wingman.

“Why don’t you just tell him? Instead of batting those (Y/E/C) doe eyes at him and hoping he’ll get it? Dean can be a bit blind to the obvious,” Sam continued, clearly not ready to drop it, even as he reached a hand out to help you stretch out your back. The teasing glint was still fully visible in his hazel eyes, but you also saw genuine affection there. He really did care, even if he was annoyingly persistent about it.

“I can’t just tell him Sammy, and don’t you dare say a thing either,” You shot back as soon as you straightened back up, eyes once more glancing at the thankfully empty doorway.

“It’s not hard. C’mon, say it with me (Y/N) ‘I love you D...”

Damn him, he really had the irritating brother act down to a pat. And yeah, you loved him like a brother. Which meant half the time you wanted to strangle him with a jump rope. Which the gym had plenty of.

“Shhh! Shut up and spot me. Your brother is right down the hall and I swear, if he hears you…” You grumbled, making sure to shoulder check him as you walked past him towards the weight bench. Though, at your height, you basically just bumped into his lower bicep, which didn’t even move him a tiny bit.

Thankfully, Sam was smart. Which meant he knew when he’d pushed a joke just far enough to annoy, but not so far as to get an elbow to the diaphragm. So instead, he simply laughed, as he followed you over to the weights section of the home gym.

Sliding down on the weight bench, you took a few steadying breaths as he readied your weights for the bench presses. Needing no further indication on what you were there to do, since your weight reps were on a more or less set schedule and endurance focused rather than just straight up strength.

“Hey Sammy, I need a bit extra weight today, either that or more reps. I have too much energy to burn,” You spoke the words to the ceiling, as you listened to the weights falling into place on the bar, stretching your arms above your head and shivering slightly when the cold plastic of the bench hit your bare midriff, since you’d opted for a shorter workout tank top for the day. Given how your body was already uncomfortably hot from just being around Dean.

“More reps then. You’re not tearing up your muscles right before a case (Y/N),” Sam shot back from somewhere to the right of you.

The Winchester brothers shared the responsibility of being the workout coaches for the rest of your team. Well, mainly for you. Since you tended to push your body too far if you were left to your own devices. So, any change to your rep plan was run through them.

“Soooo… 30?” You tried, hoping ¨he’d let you double your normal reps, though you knew the chances of that were slim to none-existent.

“20, and not one more, remember you do three to five rounds of these reps, plus barbell squats, leg curls, dumbbell…”

“Yeah, yeah… I know my routine,” You pouted, rolling your shoulders and sticking your tongue out at him as he came into view behind you once you pushed your head back. Your hands lifted to curl around the cool bar, flexing your fingers to ensure your grip on it was secure.

“Count ‘em,”

Lifting the bar off the rack, you focused on your breathing. Letting your mind drift away with the pleasant burn in your muscles from the repetitive motions. Until the reps all flowed into each other and you put all that useless energy and downright filthy adrenaline to good use.

---

“I’ll take over Sammy,”

You were on your final runthrough of your reps, having decided to finish after four sets. And just in the middle of the fifteenth bench press, when Dean’s voice pulled you out of the zone. Nearly making you lose your grip on the bar. Luckily, Sam was there to help you steady it as you placed it back on the rack and sat up, reaching for your water bottle.

“Damn it Dean, you nearly killed me,” You gasped, trying to even out your breathing and throwing a grateful smile to Sam as he handed you your towel. Your body was spent, and your muscles were screaming. Clearly Sammy had been right to stop you from doubling your rep amount. You doubted you’d even make it through the last one without needing to stop.

“Sorry sweetheart, I’ll knock next time,” Dean grinned, giving his brother an affectionate pat on the shoulder as he tagged himself in and let Sam go wash up.

Luckily you’d already burned most of your energy, but the sight of Dean in his workout wear still somehow got the embers of fire in your veins to act up again as you dropped back down against the bench. Lifting slightly shaky arms up and stretching them to dull the ache that was already starting to build.

“How many have you done?” He asked, wiping down the bar for you as he leaned over it to look down at you. Green eyes bright and focused as he filled your vision with only him, framed against the concrete ceiling.

“I’m on the final interval, only four today. Rep 15 out of 20,” You smiled back, forcing your mind to stay on your workout and not on the way his t-shirt clung to him. Or on how his arms across the steel bar tensed and looked absolutely mouthwatering.

“Twenty? You’re on fifteen reps (Y/N), not twenty,” He frowned, looking not at all pleased with your additional five reps per exercise. Though there was no way in hell you could tell him you needed the additional physical punishment just to deal with the dirty little daydreams of him in your mind.

“Extra energy to burn. You know I get antsy when we’re left playing the waiting game before a new case,”

The white lie slipped easily past your lips as you tried to refocus your attention on a blank spot of ceiling above you. Raising your arms up, you curled your fingers around the bar, just as Dean leaned back and spread those stupidly perfect bow legs to ground himself, getting ready to spot you.

“... Right, final round, then you spot me,” He grumbled, knowing better than to keep arguing and letting your body cool down too much from the workout.

Training with Dean was like a fucking double, if not tripple, workout. It always was. Past the physical strain of your muscles and the endurance needed to push your body to the limit, you were also left trying to control your poor heart. The overexcited muscle getting an aerobics exercise like no other just from the proximity of the damned greek god of a man.

The way he’d brush against you, your hot skin heating up even more from every barely there touch. Big hands and calloused fingers, always lingering against your slightly flush skin. His voice in your ear when he stepped behind you and placed a big palm on your lower back to help correct your form. The direct touch against your bare lower back sending shots of pure unadulterated electricity through you, which only grew in intensity as he pushed his body against yours to further shape and correct your stance.

Damn it, this was not the release you’d hoped for it to be. And by the time you finished the last set, you were just as worked up as you’d been before you even got started. It would have to be yet another cold shower for you. Damn him and his… Shit.

Where was your snarky quick wittedness when you needed it?

“Thirty reps?” You questioned, slightly breathlessly, as you patted the towel against your neck and reached out for your water bottle. Stretching your body and shaking away that pleasant tremble from a good workout while you followed Dean back to the bench. Stopping just a few steps behind him to watch as he bent over to wipe down the bench, giving you a front row seat to a view of that damned perfect ass in his loose workout sweats.

Mentally tongue-tied, cotton mouthed and filthy minded, you nearly missed his cocky grin and raised eyebrow. A clear indication that he’d caught you checking him out. Though you’d of course still pretend you didn’t. You were an innocent sweet summer child; your mind was unicorns and rainbows, not hot skin, teeth and tongue.

“Yeah… Actually, let’s do 35. I think I have some extra energy to burn too,” He finally said as he fell back against the bench. Groaning as he stretched his body and rewarded you with a glimpse of that perfectly toned stomach below his t-shirt.

Walking around the bench, you somehow managed to keep your fingers from brushing over his taut body on the bench. Which, considering your profession was all sticky fingers and an attraction to anything shiny or gorgeous, was a damned miracle.

—

Spotting Dean was always harder than the toughest case to crack. Not because you needed to actually do much. The man was a damned perfect specimen, lifting the weights easily and barely even breaking a sweat. It was, however, yet another hellish workout for your poor frustrated libido and heart. Standing there, ready to spot him, you had the perfect chance to ogle him indiscriminately.

Watching as those perfectly muscular arms strained against the weights, lips slightly parted around sharp breaths and brow furrowed in concentration, showing just the slightest sheen of sweat from the physical exertion. He was damned near too much for you to handle.

Just the sight of those muscles moving like liquid under his shirt, adding extra layers to your dirty daydreams of how that same hard body would feel if you were to run your fingers down his muscular back, with his body towering over yours on the bed. Pupils' wide and sharp breaths replaced by groaned moans…

Yeah, you definitely needed a cold shower.

Fucking arctic; ice cubes instead of water if possible.

Luckily for you, or unluckily, depending on how you viewed it, Dean only got two sets into his workout. Before he was pulled out of it, and you were pulled out of your absolutely downright dirty mind, by Charlie popping her head in through the door.

“Operations room in fifteen!” She called out, barely stopping to raise a knowing eyebrow at your clearly hot and bothered state before she raced off to find the rest of your group. Apparently the plan for the party infiltration had been coming together while you were busy trying to work up a sweat, and not the fun kind.

Throwing a bottle of water towards Dean, you shot him a wink and a shaky smile, before you hurried out of the room. Rushing to hide your breathless, mentally tongue-tied state from the stupidly handsome hitter. For once thankful for the possibility of more manila folders and pre-heist planning.

Still before you got ready to pull off the heist, you’d have to pull off the quickest cold shower ever. Unless you wanted to sit through hours of planning in Charlie’s intelligence HQ all sweaty, hot and bothered. Hopefully your cold shower could at least help with one of those three things. And unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be your filthy mind that followed the water down the drain.

---

Start Here - Last - Next

Charity Heist: @foxyjwls007 @seppys-return-to-madness @stoneyggirl2 @ladysparkles78 @twinkleinadiamondsky @tmb510

Dean Winchester Tags: @ria132love @woodworthti666 @defenderrosetyler @akshi8278 @justanotherwinchester @lyarr24 @torn-and-frayed @all-will-be-well-love @wearesuchstuff1 @thefridgeismybestie @adoptdontshoppets @starsandmidnightblue @screechingartisancashbailiff @septixtrash @punof-agun @deandreamernp @justagirlinafandomworld @sexyvixen7 @justrealizedimmascifygurl @globetrotter28 @siospins2 @iprobablyshipit91 @mrsjenniferwinchester @leigh70 @roseblue373 @djs8891

Forever tags will be added as a reblog

#dean winchester fic #au!spn #dean au #au!dean winchester #tales89writes #hitter!dean #thief!reader #supernatural heist au #supernatural leverage au #spn heist au #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural dean #dean winchester heist au #mercenary!dean winchester

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rhodes-baker · 2 years ago

Text

He stood out like a sore thumb at this thing, but then again, he usually did.

Unlike everyone else, he wasn’t dressed in cocktail, or black-tie, or whatever the fuck attire he was meant to. The buttons of his shirt were almost completely undone, save for a select few at the bottom near the hem that he’d decided to keep closed, his black jeans riding low on his thin hips. He managed to pull his hair back into a bun, though that was more out of convenience than anything else. He walked inside, dodging glances from most of the guests as he looked for his friend.

Only a small tug of guilt tugged at his gut as he looked for Iris, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to make the plans that Natasha had invited him to in time. He hadn’t bothered to text her yet, knowing that it would be a minor apocalyptic event once he told her he’d be running behind. If he hadn’t known Natasha as well as he did, for as long as he did, he wouldn’t have been so sure that she had planned something in the same neighborhood. But, he did. And without ever having looked at her party’s address, he was certain it was close enough he could run to it once he had the chance. So, he figured he’d save the text until he could at least wish Iris a happy birthday at her own party. He’d make it up to Natasha with his head between her legs. Later.

“There you are,” Iris said as she rounded his side with a glass of champagne. Her cheeks were flushed a pretty shade of pink from the alcohol, and he could tell she’d already had a glass or two already by the way her hand ran down his arm until their fingers intertwined. “Been waiting on you to show up.”

Rhodes grinned, holding her hand tight enough to pull her to him and press a kiss to her forehead. “Happy birthday party,” he said through a smile, just because he knew it would bother her.

Of course it worked almost instantly, her cute little smile dropping into a frown. “Okay, enough out of you,” she said, turning with their hands still linked, tugging her behind him.

Rhodes laughed at her persistence when she met the resistance in his hold. He gave up quickly, letting her drag him off to god knows where. “Where are we heading to? I wasn’t even able to get a drink. I can’t stay for really long, I have to–”

“You know where we’re going,” she said with a sly little smile, shoving the door of the bathroom open with her shoulder, pulling him inside after her.

And. Well. That shut him up. A reminder of her texts assuring him she’d wear a tiny little slip of a dress with no panties beneath surfaced to his memory, and he didn’t bother to waste another second. His big hands slid on either side of her face, threading into her hair as their lips desperately met. He kissed along her jaw, her throat, sucking a bruise into the skin there. So everyone would know where she’d been, he thought proudly to himself. His cock was already hard at the mere idea of being inside of her in such a public space, he couldn’t help himself but to push his hard length against her flat belly.

“Guess what I brought,” she whispered, reaching into her clutch and pulling out the mini polaroid camera he’d gotten her as a gift. It was mostly as a joke, but Rhodes practically choked at the realization of what she wanted. “Want to use it,” she confirmed with a smile, pressing it into his palm as she undid his jeans and dropped to her knees.

The petite blonde in front of him took his cock in both hands, spitting on the tip enough to create a string of saliva from the head of his cock to her pouty lips. He couldn’t help but to smile down at her, positioning the camera to capture the image of her looking up at him, thick cock in hand, the perfect image of an angel doing something devilish.

Before he could click the button, the door to the bathroom flew open, a shocked pair of girls standing in the doorway. “Occupied,” Rhodes said, barely bothering to look up, all too familiar with people seeing him naked due to his work. He leaned over to grab the door handle while the door remained open, turning just in time to see that the shocked face looking back at him was, in fact, Natasha.

“What the fuck?” he said, fumbling back from Iris, trying his best to put his cock away, instead accidentally taking a picture with the unused camera. “Nat,” he said, the air rushing from him in a confused noise. He glanced down at Iris, who had dropped his cock and was wiping her hands off, brow furrowed in thought as she stood up, grabbed the camera from his hand, and pushed past both of them. “What’re you doing here?”

Natasha laughed. Laughed, and shook her head. “You’re fucking my sister too? Unbelievable. Actually,” she said with a tilt of her head and a condescending look, “that is believable. Good job, Rhodes. Iris, wait,” she said, turning to go after her sister, leaving Rhodes alone in the bathroom.

Alone, with his wet, semi-soft cock half hanging out, and his chest flushed with embarrassment and something else. Alone with his thoughts, he whispered to no one as the door swung shut behind them. “Your sister?”

#( rhodes / 01 )

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wonderlandleighleigh · 2 years ago

Note

stars hollow au: Midge dancing with Richard and Lenny dancing with Emily at an event.

(Let's call this season 7 of Gilmore Girls)

"Emily Gilmore is staring at you like you are a slab of meat," Midge giggles as she whispers to Lenny.

They'd been talked into attending this charity function by Lorelai, who couldn't go, but needed someone to fill in with her parents, and so here they are, dressed elegantly, sipping cocktails and enjoying finger food, after giving a generous donation.

Lenny chuckles softly. "I'm seventeen years older than she is, I highly doubt she's looking at me that way."

"Go ask her to dance," Midge smiles.

"What? No. Emily Gilmore hates us. We're circus freaks, remember?" Lenny reminds her.

"She allowed us to come to this very fancy party," Midge points out. She nudges him. "Come on. Go be friendly. I'll even go ask Richard."

Lenny snorts. "He's taller than I am, it'd be like a T-Rex dancing with a tiny kitten."

"Then you'll have a laugh," Midge shrugs.

Lenny shakes his head and gets to his feet, taking a sip of his drink before wandering over. "Evening, Emily. Very nice party."

"Why thank you, Leonard. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," Emily tells him cooly. "And thank you for that wonderful donation."

"Well, libraries have a special place in my heart," he tells her. "You uh...you wanna dance?"

Emily blinks. "Well I..."

"Come on, Richard," Midge says, popping up at Richard's side. "Let's go cut a rug while they do."

"Well, I...I suppose," Richard shrugs. "I've never danced with a celebrity before."

"First time for everything!"

Lenny shakes his head and turns to Emily, lifting an eyebrow. "So?"

Emily sighs. "Well. Alright."

He escorts her onto the dance floor and they begin to dance. When he glances over at Richard and Midge he has to laugh a little.

"What?" Emily asks, perplexed.

Lenny nods over. "Midge doesn't wear high heels too much anymore, and it's working against her."

Emily glances over and chuckles softly. "She is tiny."

"One of the many things I love about her," Lenny tells her.

Emily nods. "It's nice. That you two are so in love. As much as I'm not exactly a fan of Lorelai's decision to stay in Stars Hollow, it's...nice. That she had the two of you as role models."

"Never been called a role model before," Lenny ponders. "A sick degenerate, but never a role model."

"Like Midge said, there's a first time for everything," Emily comments. She stays quiet for a moment. "You see Lorelai and Christopher quite a bit, don't you?"

Lenny shrugs. "We uh...some. Not as much as we used to when Lorelai was single. Or with Luke."

"Why is that?"

"Well...Christopher is uh..."

"Go on. You can say it."

"A schmuck," Lenny tells her immediately. "A putz. He's immature, and he's not good for Lorelai."

Emily stays quiet for a long, long moment before sighing heavily. "I hate that you're right."

Lenny blinks. "I'm right?"

"Of course you are," Emily tells him. "He treats her terribly. When Richard was in the hospital, he didn't show up until after his surgery was over, and Lorelai was calling him all day."

"Well...I guess they were in a fight..."

"Oh, please, if you and Midge were arguing, and you found out her father was in the hospital-"

"I'd be there in seconds," Lenny nods, his voice grim. "I mean, I loved Midge's father, he was great."

"Richard is great. Christopher likes Richard. They smoke cigars together." Emily shakes her head. "I feel so foolish. All these years I've been dreaming of the two of them finally pulling themselves together. And now that they have..."

"They're no good for each other," Lenny finishes. "It's okay to feel foolish about these kinds of things. We're parents, we like to think we know what's best for our kids, but the real truth is they know what's best for them. Especially when they get to be adults."

"I suppose," Emily sighs. "You're not just saying all this because you liked Lorelai better with Luke, are you?"

"God no," Lenny snorts. "I mean, I love Luke like he's one of my own, but he was a fucking-"

"Leonard."

"-Frigging - idiot. Pushing Lorelai away. Leaving her hanging with the wedding. It was all him. She wanted to marry that guy and he fu-fudged it all up. I think it was stupid of her to get back with Christopher, but it's hard to feel surprised when she was so hurt."

Emily nods, staying quiet.

Lenny glances over, watching Richard spin Midge, and laughs.

Emily grins to herself. "It's actually hilarious."

#fic #au #The Schneiders of Stars Hollow #Midge x Lenny #Richard x Emily #Gilmore Girls

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cinematicnomad · 11 months ago

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018. a memorable meal this year? oh fuck dude, SO many. i traveled a lot this year (14 countries in 12 months!) and got to eat SO much good food. so here's just a list of some great meals i had and where:

earlier this month i spent a weekend in brooklyn with my siblings and we got a table eat a small italian restaurant and i had THE most delicious bolognese. they also had a specialty cocktail that was super citrusy which is right up my alley and some great roasted brussel sprouts

in accra, we went to a late lunch and let our local guide order all of our food. there was this one local grilled fish?? fucking to die for, it was SO good.

over the summer i went on a trip to europe with my siblings, and in spain it was rainy and we were all so fucking tired from traveling that they went out and grabbed a bunch of local meats and cheeses and breads from a nearby market while i babysat my niece, and then we all just sat around the table in our airbnb and devoured the food with some cheap red wine and it was To Die For™

this is random but in cape town i went out to dinner one night at a belgian restaurant and while the overall meal was fine, there was a salad??? that was fucking amazing??? and i've been obsessed with recreating it to the point that i actually emailed the restaurant begging them to tell me the ingredients (they did not answer lol). the menu lists it as: garden greens with goat cheese, pear, and honeyed walnuts. i wish i knew the dressing

flying home from my asia trip in november, i had a short layover in tokyo and ate airport ramen at 7AM and it was soooo fucking tasty.

i spent literally only 24 hours in nairobi and for our one night i went out with 2 other girls to a brazilian-japanese fusion restaurant our hotel concierge recommended to us. we were wearing our travel jeans and this restaurant was insanely fancy and we had no reservations and they were fully booked, but one girl literally put her hands together and BEGGED that they let us eat there. it was beautiful, and fascinating, a little weird??? but incredibly memorable. i got a v rich seafood paella

in dublin my brother kept getting a full irish breakfast so i finally ordered one our final morning at a little pub that google said was one of the best locations and it was mouth watering amazing. who knew blood sausage was so delicious??

i returned to kathmandu for the first time since i lived there in 2007 and i got to eat nepali momo's for the first time since i was a teen and they are JUST as good as i remembered and the dipping sauce is unlike any other i've tasted elsewhere, and at this point i just need to learn how to make it myself.

during our trip we happened to be in lisbon during their summer sardine festival?? i got to try fresh grilled sardines and while it was delicious, the best part was definitely just the ambiance of being at an open air festival with live music playing surrounded by people eating delicious food and having a great time

my coworker and i were wandering around doing the tourist thing in seoul and we walked out of one shop and were drawn in by the delicious smells wafting over from the tiny restaurant across the street. we walked in, were immediately seated, and realized that the restaurant served only 4 dishes and has a michelin star. we were served by a robot and the dumplings and noodle dishes were perfection, we both cleared our bowls and left nothing behind.

last may in addis with that same girl who'd begged in nairobi, we organized an excursion to a local restaurant with a cultural dance show. we ordered a huge tasting platter of ethiopian food and took someone else's recommendation to order the honey wine called tej. the food was great, the dancing was amazing, but the 3 of us COULD NOT stomach the tej and felt so bad about it bc we'd let the waitress talk us into ordering 3 each instead of 1 to share. we drank as much as we could and then poured what we could into our water bottles and tried to make it seem like we were fans.

LAST ONE I PROMISE: i got a small group of people together in taipei to visit a night market and we tried a bunch of different foods (chicken butt is wildly fatty, stinky tofu doesn't taste as bad as it smells but it's still not my favorite, and authentic taiwanese boba is amazing) but the winner of the night was my choice: crispy squid with seaweed seasoning. i didn't know squid could taste like that. i wish i'd ordered so much more.

✨end of the year asks✨

here are some pics of some of the meals below

#ask #anonymous #the only meals i don't think i have pics of is the italian dinner in brooklyn and the salad in cape town #i also chose to share a pic of the ethiopian food not the tej #kat travels #kat travels photography #sorry i know this was A LOT and you probably won't read it all #sometimes i get way too into this and it just becomes my journal lol

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the-travelling-witch · 3 years ago

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Reaction to their s/o catching the bouquet at a wedding

summary: the title says it all basically!

pairings: timeskip!chifuyu x reader; ran x reader; rindou x reader; kokonoi x reader

warnings: implied fem!reader but no pronouns used; ran calls reader "princess"; a bit suggestive here and there but otherwise just fluff

a/n: my first tokyo revengers post, yayy!! i thought about writing for five characters at first bc i dropped the bullet points for this one but this post is already a lot longer than the others, so I left it at four (sorry mitsuya)

tokyo revengers masterlist

CHIFUYU

You were sitting next to your boyfriend at a finely decked table, chatting away with your old friends from school, joking about how tearful the groom had gotten in front of the altar. Despite the wedding reception going on for about three hours already, everyone was still in high spirits. The food was good, cocktail hour had already settled in everyone´s bloodstream and the hired DJ was doing a phenomenal job.

During the reception, the wedding pair, Hina and Takemichi, had been playing various games like answering questions by holding up the shoe of the respective person. Nahoya and Souta had been the ones interviewing the pair and you really admired the way they worked the crowd. But now that the guests had been sitting and chatting for a while it was finally time for the part most of Hina´s friends had been looking forward to: the bouquet toss.

All of you gathered on the dance floor, most giggling like excited schoolgirls, while the more reluctant ones were dragged along by their friends. You had to give it to Mitsuya: he had really outdone himself with Hina´s dress. When she moved to stand in front of the expectant crowd and turned to face the other way, the sparkly embroidery seemed as though it was a million tiny stars on a white sky.

“Okay, everyone, are you ready? We won´t have any cheating, none of you conspired so a special someone catches the bouquet, right?” Draken had snatched the mic and was building the tension among the guests. At the indignant “No!” from the crowd, he raised his hands in defence.

“Alright, alright, just making sure. Well, gentlemen, if your lady is standing on the dance floor right now, I really hope you can afford the wedding because I can see the determination in everyone´s eyes.” A nervous chuckle went through the room, while some of the guys that came alone elbowed their buddies teasingly. “Well then, Hina, if you´d do use to honour.” At the countdown, the bride threw the flowers high up in the air and into the outstretched arms of the waiting girls.

Although he had been part of many fights back when he was a teen, from his seat at the table, Chifuyu wasn´t able to see who came out victorious. That was until Hakkai tapped him on the shoulder with a cheeky grin and pointed him towards the centre of the slowly dissolving sea of people. Beaming at him was you and in your outstretched hands, you held the flower bouquet, proudly showing it off. He could feel his face growing hot and he fought the overwhelming urge to take his suit jacket off.

“Ahhh, baby, I caught it!! Can you believe it”, you squeal, basically throwing yourself into his arms. Despite his thrown off state, he still caught you easily and spun you, around making you giggle even more. Your friends were flocking over, congratulating you on managing to catch the flowers, while the former Toman members patted your (still) boyfriend on the back, asking when the wedding would be held.

After the wedding had ended, you were both sitting on the couch in sweatpants, watching a random rom-com. On the coffee table in front of was your catch of the day, beautifully arranged in a cute vase.

“You know, Matsuno, please don´t feel pressured just because of some bouquet yeah?”, you hum. While you would´ve married him on the spot if given the opportunity, you really wanted to be on the same page for this big step in your lives.

“Don´t worry too much about it, (y/n). Actually, I was happy to see how excited you got afterwards. It was very cute. And reassuring. You remember when I bought you that necklace for your last birthday?” Of course, you remember, you basically never took it off. You tilt your head for him to continue. “Well, it´s not the only thing I got that day.”

The gears in your head started turning when he slid off the couch and got on one knee in front of you. “Matsuno-“

Chifuyu gently took your hand in his and when you looked into his eyes you saw nothing but love and sincerity. “To be honest, this is not how I imagined this to happen. I thought maybe a romantic dinner or a scenic walk in the park but how could I pass up an opportunity like this? (y/n), I´ve never been more certain about anything in my life than asking you this question.”

While you were clasping your hands over your mouth, trying to hold back tears, Chifuyu pulled out a small black box he had been hiding.

“(y/n), will you marry me?”

As an answer you basically tackled him to the ground, peppering kisses all over his face cupped between your hands, mumbling “yes” over and over again, causing your fiancé to chuckle and a cheeky grin to spread on his face “Eager, are we? But I thought you were supposed to wait with this until the wedding night.”

This earned him a light whack to the chest although there was absolutely no ill intent behind it. Once you had calmed down a bit, he took your left hand again and slipped the slim silver band on your fourth finger before placing a soft kiss on it.

“See, darling, you have nothing to worry about.”

RAN

Normally, Ran tried to keep you away from anything related to his work. But he supposed bringing you to the wedding of his fellow executive was worth it, if it meant he got to see your eyes sparkle like that just a bit longer.

If he wasn´t busy being a gang member, your boyfriend could be quite the romantic. So, it didn´t surprise you one bit, when he pulled you to the dance floor every chance he got. And you couldn´t possibly be bothered by it when this handsome man guided you through every dance so elegantly. It´s not like you´ve never seen him in a suit before, after all, he wore them almost on the daily, but there was something about him tonight that made it impossible for you to look away from him.

“Something the matter, princess? Falling for me again perhaps?” he teased you as he dipped you slightly lower than before, which your heart only survived because you trusted him fully.

“What? Is it forbidden now that I look at my boyfriend? Especially when he put so much effort in his outfit?” You ran your fingers lightly over the muscles that were clearly tangible even through the thick layers of clothing. “But fine, if it bothers you so much, should I maybe look at someone else? Oh isn´t that Kakucho over there? My, he surely knows how to make a suit work for him, wouldn´t you agree? And looking at Rindou, I can see that being pretty must run in the family.”

At this, his hand on your waist tightened and he pulled you closer to him. The low and warning “Princess” that came from him sent a tingle down your spine but you pushed the feeling down. For now. As the dance came to an end, you cupped Ran´s face and give him a chaste kiss on the lips.

“Sorry, baby. You know I´m just teasing, right? I only have eyes for you after all.”

“Well, it wouldn´t be fun if you didn´t drive me a bit crazy every now and then. Especially because you´re always so cute when you make it up to me, yeah?” Whispering the last sentence in your ear, he straightened back up and led you back to your seats. Sometimes you wondered why you even felt bad when he always managed to spin the situation around so that you were the flustered one having to fight down the rosiness spreading to your cheeks.

Your banter went on for the rest of the wedding reception, well, that was until the bride announced that she would now toss her bouquet. At first, you weren´t sure if you should even get up because you didn´t know her that well. However, most of the girls assured you that it would be fine since a lot of them were the partners of other gang members and there had been two separate wedding celebrations anyway. It made sense, you thought, considering who the groom was, that the couple decided not to have the two groups mix.

So, with new spirits, you linked arms with the women you knew best and were swept into the excited crowd. Ran was watching from the sidelines, clearly amused at how easily the enthusiasm of the others rubbed off on you.

What he didn´t expect though, was for you to almost make flying receive while diving for the bouquet. If a scout for an NFL team had been there you would´ve probably been hired. You helped up some of the people that had taken a fall because apparently catching the bouquet was more of a fight when the crowd was made up of gang members and their s/os and then held up the flowers triumphantly.

You spotted Ran still at the table where you left him and sauntered over with a grin and a facial expression that basically read “You know what this means”. The men around your boyfriend lost it with how you were behaving, teasing him about who was actually wearing the pants in your relationship.

Sure, you were doing this partly to get back at him but you also wanted to gauge his reaction to the idea of possibly marrying you. Just like before, he showed a bothersome lack of reaction until you stepped close enough so he could suddenly pull you into him. Now that you were practically sitting sideways on his lap, he wrapped his hand around your waist again.

“Well, if you wanted to marry me this badly, you should´ve just said so, princess. I can´t wait to brag to everyone about my cute little spouse.”

RINDOU

You were having the time of your life, hitting the dance floor with some of your old friends. After not seeing them for what felt like forever you were excited at the chance to catch up with them. Not to mention that one of them actually got married today.

Sadly, your boyfriend Rindou couldn´t attend the wedding, he still had some business to deal with. But then again, you´re not sure how happy the newlyweds would´ve been if you had brought one of the Haitani brothers to their big day.

So here you were, chatting the night away with your besties, which brought back lots of memories from when you guys used to go out together much more often. You´d been exchanging stories about what and who everyone was up to, laughing at stupid ideas or plotting revenge against a cheating ex.

At one point, the bride had to excuse herself because “there was one more thing to do” and your curious stares followed her all the way to the front, where she picked up her bouquet of white and red roses from the wedding ceremony. Instantly recognising what she was on about, your table started giggling and throwing playful threats at each other.

“All of you, don´t even think about catching that bouquet or I´m never going shopping with you ever again”, (f/n) jokingly whined.

“A win-win situation then?” you quipped back, making the whole table erupt in gleeful laughter again. It earned you a flick to the forehead and some glares from the guests around you but none of you really cared.

“Does that mean, if (y/n) somehow manages to catch those roses we´ll finally meet that mystery boyfriend of yours?”, the brunette propped her head on her head and looked at you expectantly.

“I´d have to invite you to the wedding first”, you dead-panned. It´s not like you wanted to keep your relationship a secret from them but how do you explain to your very normal group of friends that your boyfriend was a member of Japan´s most dangerous gang?

“Boo (y/n), you kill-joy. That scared we´d steal him?”

“Ooohhh, maybe he´s a celebrity and that´s why you have to keep your relationship under wraps.”

“Or maybe-“

Before they could make up even more outlandish conspiracy theories about just who your elusive boyfriend was, the guests were asked to gather around for the bouquet toss. You guys were shoving each other like little children, all determined to get your hands on the beautifully wrapped flowers.

What your friends didn´t know, however, as the s/o of Rindou Haitani you had learned some useful tricks on how to win the upper hand in a scuffle and you were damned if you didn´t apply this knowledge here. So, just as you expected, the one holding a bouquet of roses and wearing a smug grin was you.

After you had sat down and your friends stopped complaining about how it wasn´t fair (though you could tell they were happy for you), you took out your phone. You sent Rindou a selfie holding up the roses and a text reading “LOOK WHAT I CAUGHT” and put it face down on the table. It didn´t take long for you to get a response that almost made you snort.

Idiot <;3: Throw it back

Rolling your eyes at his typical stoic behaviour you quickly shot a text back.

You: Nope, sorry, no can do. No returns allowed

You: Don´t you want to marry me, love?

Rindou groaned at your text. He knew that you didn´t mean it and that you were just poking fun at him but he felt a bit guilty nonetheless. Truth to be told, he had been thinking about this for a long, long time. First of all, he needed to be sure the feelings were mutual and while he was sure you loved him, he didn´t know if you were ready to take things to the next step yet. If he still needed more confirmation that you wanted this, it came in the form of your friends.

Brat <;3: voice message (0:22)

When he played the message, he heard the voice he expected only faintly in the background, shouting to give the phone back.

“Hi there, (y/n)´s mystery boy. We´ve never met but your s/o fought pretty hard to get that bouquet just now so we´re guessing you can´t be that bad.” “Also, we want to be invited to the wedding, okay bye!”

Brat <;3: Sorry about them🙄

Brat <;3:They´re drunk, don´t take them seriously

Rindou chuckled but decided he´d have to thank your friends when he met them for giving him the push he needed.

Back at the wedding reception, you were pinching the bridge of your nose exasperatedly when the notification sound of your phone pulled you out of your thoughts. What you read made you want to punch the girls by your side, then kiss them.

Idiot <;3: Do you mean the part about you fighting for that bouquet? I thought it was cute

Idiot <;3: But to come back to your question from earlier

Idiot <;3:There´s something I´ve been meaning to ask you but I´m not doing it over text

Idiot <;3: So better come home quickly, darling <3

KOKONOI

If you had to describe your environment at the moment, the only word that came to mind was fancy. You were currently attending the wedding reception of the daughter of one of Koko´s closest business partners. Given those circumstances, it was natural that everything was a bit more…grand than you´d normally see.

Even though you didn´t expect it at first, you were really enjoying yourself. Standing at the glass front of the penthouse, you switched between admiring the city skyline and your outfit. You were dressed to the nines, happy that Koko chose your attire or you would´ve definitely been underdressed.

With one arm linked with your boyfriend´s and a glass of champagne in hand, you were engrossed in a conversation with one of the brides, while Koko seemed to be talking business with some people you didn´t recognise. What you didn´t pick up on were the lovestruck glances he threw your way here and there. Sure, he picked your outfit but he couldn´t quite get used to how stunning you actually looked in it.

Your attention was pulled away from the woman opposite you when it was announced that the bouquet tosses would be happening. Yeah, plural. Two brides, two bouquets to be tossed. As you were excitedly pulled along, you barely managed to shove your champagne in Koko´s hands, who only shot you an amused wink and watched as you were swept into the forming crowd.

The bride you were talking to before was the first to toss her flowers and they just so happened to fly into the general direction of her friends in the front. There was a burst of laughter from a couple guys who you supposed were buddies of the man who had almost no time to catch his girlfriend but somehow managed to anyway.

Next up was the daughter of Koko´s business partner. Through the commotion the first girl caused, you had somehow ended up further in the front than before. You must´ve imagined it but you could´ve sworn she gave someone in the back a conspiratorial wink as she turned around. The guests counted her down as she gave the bouquet a few practice flicks upwards.

What you didn´t expect was for her to turn back around, stride over and hand the carefully wrapped flowers to you. When you just gave her a confused look, she grabbed your shoulders and spun you around. The guests had parted to make room for Koko who was standing in front of you, looking into your eyes expectantly.

“Hajime, what´s going on?”

“Well, pretty, what does it look like?” With that he got down on one knee, pulling a ring box from the pockets of his black slacks. “There´s been a question on my mind for a while now and I´d like to hear your answer to it.”

“And what would that be?”, you asked and you could do nothing to stop tears from forming and gathering at your lash line.

“Will you marry me, (y/n)?” You thought, in that moment, you could see every star reflect in Koko´s eyes and in your mind there has only ever been one possible answer.

“Yes, Hajime, yes. Yes, I will.”

And while the crowd around you broke out in cheers and shouted congratulations, you barely registered anything except for the man in front of you, who gently slipped the mesmerising ring on your finger. In true Koko fashion, he went all out and bought a ring that probably cost more than some people´s cars or houses. But that´s not what made it valuable to you. He could´ve proposed to you with a fun-sized pretzel and you would´ve treasured it ´til the end of your life.

You pulled your fiancé up and into a kiss that you´d hoped would convey everything you felt right now because you couldn´t possibly put it into words. He seemed to understand though and made a mental note to give you a more detailed confession when you got home tonight. But for now, he was content with simply holding you a bit longer.

“I love you, Hajime.”

“I love you more, pretty.”

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butler-on-beale-street · 2 years ago

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Sharp Dressed Man | Austin Butler X Reader | Part 2

A/N & Warnings: Minors DNI. Get prepared, this fic is graphic and VERY smutty. More so than the first part. Semi-public sex, unprotected sex, Dom!Austin, fingering, rough sex, breeding-kink, sight deprivation (sex in the dark), oral m. receiving, female receiving, spanking, public embarrassment, skating the lines of indecent exposure.

“Austin, baby,” You sputtered between hot kisses. “I don’t think this is a good idea.” You were breathless from his touch, sweat prickling on your forehead from exertion.

“Still worried about appearances, Y/n? You really think they care about us? I’m the only one that gets to worship you tonight. The rest can go the fuck themselves and go home.” It was an important night for Austin, but with the extra time the cocktail hour gave you, he could have cared less about any of the attendees. At least not at the moment.

He always knew exactly what to say to get you to submit to him, and with him all over you, you would never say no. “If you’re going to ruin a ten thousand dollar dress, then you might as well make it a ten thousand dollar fuck.”

You still couldn’t see him, but you could feel his touch shifting to a tight grasp on your hips. “Don’t underestimate me, doll. Have I ever broken a promise to you?”

In the dark, you felt a finger at your mouth, dragging down along the plumpness of your bottom lip. There was an extended silence in the room until he whispered just beyond the cuff of your ear. “Turn around, hands against the door. Don’t argue.”

You swallowed with an almost-audible gulp and did as he said, turning around with your dress still hanging around your waist. You heard him fiddling with his zipper when you realized the impracticality of the situation. “Austin, you have to take off my dress–I’m still wearing it.”

“No underwear? Not a problem. Don’t think I’ve fucked someone while wearing a dress before?” He grabbed at the length of the garment, pulling the wads of fabric up into his fist. “I only need my cock and one hand for you to submit to me completely.”

You waited for him, feeling the coolness of the AC drifting across your exposed ass and legs. “Fuck, I’m already so hard for you, baby. Come here,” You felt him behind you, one of his hands gripping your hip with your dress bunched around your hips. With the side of his boot, he tapped at the sides of your heels to widen your stance. “Hmm, actually,” He said, bending down to unstrap your shoes from your feet, letting go of your dress. “I need you to keep your balance.” You chuckled softly as he pulled your shoes off of your feet, tossing them aside with a thud. “Better, right? A tiny bit of relief?” He leaned in and kissed you several times on the shoulder blade before twisting the dress back around his fist and gripping your waist again.

“Tell me what you’d like me to do to you, princess,” Austin murmured as he took his cock in his free hand, waiting for your answer as he stroked himself.

“Fuck it,” You said out loud. “Austin, drag me to Hell. Fuck me like you hate to love me. Whatever you have to do, just have your way with me.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” He lined himself up against your entrance, wasting no time with teasing. He finished his sentence, his first thrust serving as the final punctuation. “Goddamn, Y/n,” he grunted in heavy exhalation. “Didn’t think you could possibly be any more dripping wet, but I guess I was wrong. You’re so warm and tight on my cock. Do you feel me throbbing inside of you?” His fingers dug into your hips, curling tighter and tighter with each thrust.

With both hands, he threw you backward savagely against his cock before popping you off of him, slamming you repeatedly into the rattling door. You bent at the waist, sticking your ass out towards him, allowing him to thrust up and into you with ease. You reached out to the sides of the door frame to give yourself the tiniest bit of balance. “Squeeze on my cock, baby girl. Empty my fucking cock. Let me fill you so full you'll leave a trail when we’re done here.” He fucked faster and faster and you listened as the pattern of his breathing began to shift erratically. Your tits jiggled wildly, slapping your skin and launching back into the air, filling the room with noise.

“Austin, AUSTIN!” you spat, the room throwing your voice at every bare wall. “Oh my fucking God,” you whimpered through gritted teeth.

“Finger yourself, baby. I want to see you fuck yourself, too.”

You reached between your legs and fingered yourself as he worked, rolling your fingers in wide circles as he penetrated you from behind. “That’s it, touch yourself while I fuck you. I can feel your fingers, baby.” It was a struggle to keep the door from shaking violently within the frame. Your hair hung wildly about your face, sticking to your forehead and neck, pestering you more and more with each thrust. You were thankful when Austin pulled your hair into a makeshift knot with his free hand, only to find yourself ill-prepared when he yanked you backward.

“Who am I, princess?” He growled in your ear. You could feel the heat emanate from his breath as he waited for an answer. You wouldn’t give him such quick satisfaction. You remained silent, your back awkwardly arched to his will. He backed himself almost all the way out of you before striking back into you. “I said,” he grunted, pulling your hair back further, licking a hot, wet line from the base of your ear to the start of your collarbone.

“Who fucks you like it’s the last time every time, hmm? I don’t need any light to have every square inch of you memorized. I’d know that pretty little cunt anywhere.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “You know who owns you. You and I both know. I just want to hear you say it. Just to make my cock drip.” His voice was gruff with dominance; Austin always liked to be play the part, but tonight, he was fucked. Completely fucked-out with the thought of being buried so deep inside of you, knowing you couldn’t see him, but you could feel every inch of him. “What’s my name, Y/n?”

“Daddy.” The words came out disembodied, your voice sounding much more like a croak than anything else.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl,” Austin complimented you, finally releasing your hair. “I think you deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

“Please, Daddy,” You begged, feeling the exhaustion beginning to set in. Your entire body was caked in sweat, and you knew that Austin couldn’t look much better than you.

“Get on your knees, baby girl. Suck my cock with your pretty little mouth. Leave lipstick where it shouldn’t be.” Your eyes had adjusted somewhat to being in the dark and you were able to make out general shapes. Austin let go of your dress and let you turn around and get on your knees.

“Thank you, Daddy.” You found his legs and walked your hands up until you found his cock, warm and wet with your own slick.

“So much more fun in the dark, isn’t it,” He said softly, his hands ghosting upon your shoulders as you created an o-ring around the base of his cock with your pointer finger and thumb.

“Mmhmm. You weren’t hard to find, Daddy. But you already knew that,” you said before taking his cock in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks and closing around him. With your free hand wrapped around his thigh, you could feel his muscles flexing as the pleasure flowed through his body.

“Goddamn, you have the tongue of a sinner and the mouth of a saint.” His tone skipped as he pushed moans through his throat, feeling your tongue molding to the underside of his cock as he fucked into your throat. Your eyes burned with hot with tears, and you knew that your makeup was fucked by now. You’d walk out of this utility closet looking like a filthy whore, but Austin’s attention would always be more valuable than the gawking eyes of strangers.

“I wish I could see how sloppy you look with my cock in your tiny little mouth.” You hummed your response against his cock and he groaned, arching backwards, tilting himself even deeper inside of you. “Fuck, Y/n. My fucking God.” You screwed your tongue around his cock in tight circles, stimulating every sensitive spot. “I’m not,” he said, withdrawing himself from you suddenly, “wasting my cum in your mouth.” He grounded himself in front of you before continuing. “Stand up and face me.”

You obeyed him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, wiping it on your dress. He pulled you in, feeling the fabric that still hung on you.

“You know what, fuck this. Arms up. I need you naked.” You weren’t going to argue. You needed him to bring you back to ecstasy, leaving you lapsed within a final orgasm that would leave you seizing. You reached your hands up over your head, letting Austin tug the garment off of your body. You were left standing completely naked in front of him. “Would only be fair if I followed along,” he said, chuckling through his nose, pulling off his coat and letting it fall to the floor. Next, he unbuttoned his shirt and shuffled off his shoes before finally pulling his suit pants and underwear all the way off.

“Much better.” He pulled you against his skin and you could immediately feel the mutual stickiness of exertion. “Back up against the door, facing me. Trust me.” You weren’t sure what would come next, but you did as he said, shuffling yourself backward, stopping when you heard the door click back and forth within the catch of the door handle.

“Try to balance, we’re gonna try something new.” His tone sounded entertained, lilting upward at the end of the sentence. You were excited to see what could possibly come next. He approached you and soon you felt him grabbing for your left knee, raising it in the air. “Let’s take advantage of your flexibility.” His hand moved closer to your calf, raising it in the air to gain a better vantage point. Stepping in between your legs in a slight squat, he entered you again, scooping his body up into you, his cock hitting your insides in new angles that set your core ablaze, twitching and clenching desperately around his cock.

“Fuck!” You yelped, throwing your arms forward to catch his shoulders as he held onto you.

“I know, baby–what the fuck,” Austin said, surprising himself at the power of the position. His naked shoulders felt slippery under your touch, and the room was thick with the smell of sex. “I promised I would take you there.” His voice was stripped completely of tone. Whatever came out, sounded somewhere between a whimper, a sigh and a whisper. You’d never complain if he spoke like this forever. “You walking in wearing that slutty dress…I'll never get the image out of my head of your pretty little nipples popping straight through the silk.” You gasped when he began to tweak your nipple, pulling, folding and rolling it between his thumb and pointer finger.

You huffed clipped, gasping breaths as he fucked into you. Drips of sweat trickled down your face, landing upon the curve of your lip. Austin leaned in to kiss you, retrieving the saltiness and delivering his own back to you. When he broke the kiss, his exhalation wisped around your lips, cheeks and nostrils. Everything about him was addictive. No, he didn’t smell sweet like honey or cinnamon. He smelled and tasted like sweat and cologne – like salty, musky sex. You impressed yourself knowing that you were responsible for it.

“Look at me,” he practically begged, his strokes becoming closer together. “It’s dark, but I’ll take what I can get. I want to know that I am all you are thinking about when you finally explode.” He lifted your leg higher, his fingers locked tightly around your calf, his other hand pulling you in from behind, his fingernails digging into your ass as his hips continued to snap into you. You lifted your gaze to find his eyes in the dark. “You’re all I ever think about, Austin.” You wanted him to know. Not the persona.

“I’d rather be breathless with you wrapped around me than be breathless without you.” You admitted, the words came out with effort, the physical exertion taking a toll upon the rise and fall of your speech.

“That’s the last of your worries, darling. Cum for me, baby girl. Let me feel you fall apart around my cock.” His hips stammered as he rocked into you, lengthening his stroke as he scooped his body upward into you.

“Austin….Austin….let me—let me bend over…take me from behind again.” You didn’t usually request positions. He usually led the way, moving in whatever ways felt the most natural or exciting in the moment.

You felt him pulling out quickly and lowering your leg, stepping back for you to move. “Bend over for me, baby.” Austin spoke in a huff, waiting for you to get comfortable.

You did as he asked, bending at the waist and pulling your hands down to your ankles. He stepped in behind you, returning to the rhythm of his previous stroke. With the flat of his palm, he slapped your ass, letting his fingers dig into your flesh as it ricocheted against his palm. “Fuuuuuuck,” He groaned, letting his tone elongate through the word. “Almost there, baby. Almost…” He said, slamming into you. “Fucking,” another thrust, “There.” His voice sounded disembodied and exhausted.

“Austin–Aust– you huffed, taking small steps to re-ground yourself. Your hair hung limply around your face, sticking to your neck and shoulders, your entire body covered in a layer of sticky sweat. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Touch yourself again, baby.” His hand moved down the small of your back, as he spoke, the touch so intimate and loving as he absently rubbed shapes into your skin with the meat of his thumb. “Touch yourself like I would…begging for you to release all over my fingers or tongue. Cum for me.” You widened your stance slightly as he continued to drive into you, pulling a hand upward to your pussy. You began to finger yourself in a frenzy, feeling your core begin to swell in the all-too-familiar feeling.

“Fuck yes, Y/n. I love feeling your thighs tremble around my f- fucking c- ” He couldn’t finish his sentence, alerting you that he was closer to cumming than he led on. The moan that fell from his lips was guttural, coming out more like a growl than anything else.

“Take it. Take it all,” He breathed, slapping your ass gruffly, throwing himself so deep, you could feel him painfully against your cervix.

“Fucking Christ!” You shouted, ripping your free hand up to cover your mouth, realizing too late where you were.

“Fuck yourself harder, Y/n. Now.” He was desperate for release, but he would never do it without you. Though he was dominant during sex, he wasn’t selfish–at least not in a way that would leave you cumming by yourself. He slowed his thrust long enough for you to continue to bring yourself to the edge of ecstasy.

“Austin–” you sung the words breathlessly, begging for him to dissolve you completely into oblivion. His hands pulled forward, locking yours tightly behind your back, lifting your body upward in a true submissive position. In the deprivation of sight, you could hear his breath hitching combined with the sound of his slick thighs and groin slamming against you. You clamped yourself around him as tightly as you could manage as your body quaked against him, leaving your knees buckling. “Austin I’m gonna cum.”

He didn’t relent, striking his cock so deep into you that your vision went white; you could feel your pulse thumping in your head as you finally released, desperately clenching yourself around him. Your core erupted, sending you falling back against Austin, his hands lifting your arms upward, his body bending and crouching to pull you up enough for him to finish. He pulled himself almost completely out of you before amassing all the strength and force to send himself crashing into you for the final time. His hands clawed at you, savagely snatching your body against him as he spilled into you, flooding you with his seed. You loved the way he destroyed you. You dissolved into him, letting all vanity sink to the floor. This was precisely the reason you came crawling back every time for him to bring you back down to earth. It was almost embarrassing.

He held onto you with an iron grip, letting the orgasm wash over your bodies, receding in slow waves, a changing tide into calmer waters.

He pulled himself out of you and twisted you around to face him. He pulled you in, leaning to kiss you. You closed your eyes reflexively as you waited for him. His lips tasted of salt as he parted yours. Your eyes shot open from shock as you felt the tips of his fingers smack against your pussy. You gasped into his open kiss, hearing a soft chuckle fall from his lips as a response.

“Sensitive, Princess?”

“You’re an asshole,” you spat through gritted teeth. He pulled you up by your chin. “Now don’t be like that, sweetheart. Not when I just gave you the fuck of your life.”

He took your bottom lip between both of his teeth, leaning back and letting go before connecting with your mouth once more, sealing his words with another searing kiss. “Now, let’s figure out how in the hell to get out of here.”

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sapphire-scribblings · 2 years ago

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Vegastown (1/?)

Author's Note: This nonsense is inspired by @succsessions Elvis (2022) x Hadestown edits. (More when please? 🥺) I'm obsessed with that musical, so seeing that combined with my current obsession with Baz Luhrmann's masterpiece on the King sparked a plot bunny that simply would NOT LEAVE ME BE! Prior knowledge of the musical is not required as this is more of a l o o s e interpretation of its plot and charaters (although those who know, I'd be interested to hear your thoughts on who I have in each role.) This story is based on Austin and Baz's interpretation of Elvis and includes the use of OCs because I find certain aspects of the real EP's life troubling and didn't want to touch the briarpatch that is his relationship with Priscilla with a ten foot pole. No disrespect is intended at all. Enjoy...

Trigger Warnings: Allusions to Alcoholism, fraught relationship with a parent, a moment where a character vomits. If I missed something, please let me know and I'll add it.

Prologue: “A tale of a love from long ago...”

Once upon a time, there were two kids from vastly different worlds. The girl was from a well-to-do family in New York City. Her life, charmed though it may have seemed from the outside, was carefully planned out by her parents. Go to all the right schools, make all the right connections, meet a nice boy from a good family, settle down…blah, blah, blah. But those plans would get blown away after meeting a gifted country boy from nowhere exceptional: my best friend, Elvis Presley.

November 30, 1955, New York City

“Mother, do I really have to go to this thing? I’d much rather just stay home and study.”

Claire Barnes knew by the look on her mother’s face that her lie was weak. She had only to narrow her eyes before Claire stood and started getting ready. So much for a night on the town with her girlfriends. An hour later, Claire presented herself for inspection before the family departed for the evening. Her dress was a delicate pink with a lace overlay embroidered with white and gold flowers and leaves. Her heels were a similar pink with white bows. She styled her dark brown hair in loose curls and waves like one of her favorite actresses, Marilyn Monroe.

As her mother looked her over and made tiny adjustments, she said, “You know these meetings are important to your father. We need to be there to support him on a job well done. Besides, this singer they’ve signed is about your age. It will be nice for him to have another young person there.”

Claire rolled her eyes but replied dutifully, “Yes, Mother.”

Ya see, Claire’s father was the in-house attorney for RCA. Elvis was their shiny new toy, and RCA pulled out all the stops to wine and dine him. The last thing Claire wanted to do that night was babysit some warbler while her father’s business associates leered at her and told her how pretty she was. So she wasn’t in the best of moods. Lucky for EP, he had a way of charming just about anyone.

Claire’s family checked in with the host just as the rest of their party arrived. Claire pasted on her fakest smile as four different men reeking of cigar smoke, cologne, and pre-dinner cocktails greeted her with hugs or kisses on the cheek. Finally, one of them extended his arm and said, “Mrs. Barnes, Miss Claire, meet RCA’s new star, Elvis Presley!”

Elvis stood apart from the rest with a large man with a hooked nose. (She later learned his name was Colonel Tom Parker.) The grainy photos from the newspapers and magazines had not done Elvis any justice. He wore a shimmery blue suit that highlighted his eyes. He approached Claire and her mother with coltish energy. Eager to please and nervous about doing the wrong thing. He greeted her mother first before turning to Claire and saying, “Pleasure to meet you, miss.”

His drawl made her smile despite herself. “Likewise, Mr. Presley.”

He ducked his head with a bashful grin. “Goodness, just Elvis, please! My daddy’s Mr. Presley.”

Maybe tonight wouldn’t be a total loss, after all?

As they were escorted to their table, Claire couldn’t take her eyes off the young singer. He seemed to take everything in with a wide-eyed wonder she found endearing. When they were seated next to each other, Elvis seemed taken aback when the napkin was placed on his lap. None of his mannerisms or reactions seemed contrived. It was a breath of fresh air compared to other performers she met. As she adjusted her dress, she noticed Elvis studying the array of silverware fanned out on either side of his plate with trepidation. He looked at her and asked, “Are we really gonna use all these?”

Claire couldn’t help but giggle. “Just start on the outside and work your way inward.”

“Thank you,” he replied. He ducked his head again, letting loose a few dark hair strands. “You probably think I’m some dumb hillbilly-“

“No, not at all,” Claire insisted. “You can’t help what you don’t know.”

He shifted in his seat to face her. “So tell me about yourself, Claire. I feel like I’ve been talking about myself all day, and I’m sick of the sound of my voice!”

They quickly fell into an easy rapport, and by dessert, Elvis asked Claire for her number. (When retelling the story to new friends, Elvis would say at that point, he was already half in love with her. Claire would blush and say he was being ridiculous.) She didn’t tell her friends about this unexpected friendship with one of young America’s new heartthrobs. Whenever they asked who called her at odd night hours, she said it was just a friend in a different time zone. Elvis was the one that blew the secret wide open when he visited her while she was studying on campus at Barnard College. The shriek that her friend Betty let out got all three of them kicked out of the library.

Elvis was constantly on the road or recording in the RCA branch in Memphis, but even so, he would call her, even if for a moment, because “I just wanted to hear your voice, darlin’.” Anytime he was in New York, no matter how brief, he made time to see her. One such occasion was after the infamous Steve Allen Hound Dog performance.

July 2, 1956 New York City

“They-they-they didn’t even warn me about the damn dog!” Elvis ranted. He paced back and forth, his hair a mess from tugging on and running his hands through it. Claire sat on a bench and listened. The pair met up in Central Park after she begged off a lunch date with her mother and a couple of her bridge partners. “I could have made it funny like I was in on the joke! My momma called me up afterward, saying they was making fun of me by putting a hillbilly in tails. Like I don’t already know that! And I’m just dreading going home because I know I’ve got another earful waiting for me, and I just-“

“Elvis, breathe.”

He stopped right in front of her. She patted the bench next to her, and he collapsed in a heap next to her. He looked so defeated. She took one of his hands in hers and rubbed his knuckles. With all the publicity came increased scrutiny. She read the newspapers and tabloid magazines. Elvis the Pelvis, the careless rock-and-roller hellbent on corrupting America’s youth with his sex-crazed gyrations. It made her furious. She wished they could see Elvis as she did: caring and considerate, with a goofy sense of humor and a love of comics. A boy who would do anything he could to take care of those he loved.

After a few moments of silence, he seemed to calm down. He squeezed her hand and said, “I’m sorry, darlin’. I haven’t asked about you at all today. Just went jabbering on about me, myself, and I like a selfish jerk.”

“It’s okay,” Claire laughed softly. “I’d rather you let it all out than allow it to fester.”

“I swear, you’re the only thing in my life that makes any sense right now.”

Claire’s stomach exploded with butterflies. She licked her lips and struggled to keep her cool. “Really? Even when we’re far away from each other?”

“Especially then,” Elvis insisted. He moved closer to her and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You make me feel like a regular person. Like my day’s not complete unless I can hear about yours.”

Claire could scarcely breathe. She was in a position most girls would kill for and yet it almost felt like an accident. Was this how fate felt? Walking towards a person you’ve never met, but once you have, life seemed impossible to imagine without them in it? She felt her skin flush under his touch as he cupped her cheek and whispered, “I know what I’m about to ask is beyond selfish, and-and I’m not even sure I deserve to ask in the first place but-“

“Ask me.”

Elvis licked his lips and asked, “Claire, will you be my girl?”

Claire grinned and leaned forward. Their first kiss was fast and sweet and magical and so so perfect. She pulled back enough to murmur against his plush lips, “Of course I will, Elvis.”

They kept it a secret for as long as they could. That added to the thrill of the relationship. A friendship turned secret love affair. But lies and half-truths only go on for so long. To say that her parents were upset would be an understatement. It didn’t matter that Elvis was making RCA money hand over fist. He didn’t have the right connections, breeding, all those things that mattered less and less to Claire. The more time she spent with Elvis, the more she opened up to the possibilities of a life outside her parents’ expectations. They tried to keep the couple apart and forced her to attend dinners with more “suitable” prospects. But Claire was stubborn. She had made her choice, and there was no swaying her away from her blue-eyed beau.

Elvis’s parents were only upset that their son had kept someone so important to him a secret from them. Once they finally met Claire, they adored her. There was some light-hearted teasing about Elvis falling for a Yankee. Nothing that Claire couldn’t handle. She loved going to Graceland. Everything was so much more spacious and lusher. She loved curling up with Elvis in the backyard or getting stories about him as a little boy from his cousins. He took her out for Memphis barbeque and laughed at her attempts to eat ribs with a fork and knife. They walked down Beale Street and tipped every street performer they found. Every time she had to return to New York, her heart broke just a little. Even with his career taking off to greater heights, they thought nothing would ever come between them. Everything seemed so charmed and magical.

Until it wasn’t.

The draft, which the Colonel repeatedly swore he would handle, finally came for Elvis. Not wanting to be labeled as a draft dodger, Elvis agreed to do his bit. Claire put on a brave face for him, but in private, she cried to her girlfriends about his impending departure. She went with him to California and later New Orleans while he filmed King Creole. He even got her a job on set as his personal assistant just so they could spend every moment together. Her parents weren’t pleased, but Claire was beyond trying to please them. While he was in basic training, she went home to New York to pack her things and move to Graceland. This resulted in another protracted argument that lasted almost two weeks between her and her mother. But soon, she put New York in her rearview mirror and moved to Fort Hood.

Then Gladys took a turn for the worse.

August 16, 1958 Memphis

Claire woke before the rest of the house did. She tugged on Elvis’s house robe and went downstairs. Elvis and Vernon had gone to bed not long after the funeral. They barely held it together for the family members and friends that attended the wake and funeral service. It certainly didn’t help having the Colonel around, trying to manipulate the men for the newspapers. She did not like that man but knew better than to say anything to Elvis about him. Her beau was too fragile to hear criticism about a man he trusted.

She went to the kitchen to fix both men something to eat. The refrigerator and countertops were packed with countless Pyrex dishes full of food. After looking through most of it, Claire decided that a simple breakfast of strong coffee, peanut butter, banana sandwiches, and fresh fruit might do the trick. Neither of them ate anything the day before. She stopped by Vernon’s room first. He didn’t answer when she knocked. She set a plate of food and a mug of coffee on the bedside table and shook his shoulder. Vernon woke with a start but relaxed when he saw her.

“I brought you some food and coffee,” she whispered. He sat up in the bed, scrubbing his face with the heels of his hands. “You need to get something in your stomach, Vernon.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” the older man rasped. Relief flooded her system when he picked up the coffee mug and took a long sip. “Make sure my boy gets something. Can’t remember the last time he ate.”

“He’s next, don’t you worry.”

Elvis hadn’t stirred since she left him. It didn’t surprise her. He disappeared with a bottle of whiskey not long after the funeral. When she and his cousin Billy went upstairs to check on him, the bottle was over half empty, and Elvis was passed out. No doubt her boyfriend would have one hell of a hangover. The tray she brought had coffee, water, aspirin, his favorite sandwich, and some fresh fruit. She set it on the floor and sat on the edge of his bed. He was sprawled out on top of the blanket, still in his suit from the funeral. She ran her fingers through his hair. He shifted and rolled onto his back. This proved to be a mistake; seconds later, he stumbled into his bathroom. The sounds of him emptying his stomach echoed into the bedroom. She waited until he went quiet before going in there with the glass of water. He was curled up on the tile floor, sweaty and pale.

She coaxed him into a seated position on the floor. He rinsed his mouth out before slowly drinking the rest of the glass. There was no talking. What could she possibly say that could make this hurt any less? She wrapped her arms around him as best she could. Eventually, his stomach settled, and they moved back into the bedroom. He curled himself against her, resting his head over her heart. She rubbed his back and hummed old gospel songs he taught her. After a while, they sat up, and he could eat a little of the food. Once he finished, she picked up his hand and kissed his knuckles.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, his voice hoarse. “The-the Colonel arranged with the Army for Daddy to come overseas with me. All the details ain’t ironed out yet, but you know…it’s something.”

“That’s great, baby,” Claire replied. She tried to avoid thinking about him leaving. Whenever she did, she felt like she couldn’t breathe. “That way, at least you’ll have each other.”

“But that’s not enough,” Elvis said. He laced their fingers together and pressed their hands against his chest. “I want – no, I need you there with me too.”

“I wish I could,” Claire said, her throat suddenly tight with emotion. She pulled her hand away and looked down. He didn’t need to see her cry. “But I’m just your girlfriend. The Army would never-“

“What if we got married?”

Claire felt her jaw drop and her heart skip a beat. Suddenly everything was moving very fast, and a velvet ring box was in her trembling hand. She opened it to reveal a glittering diamond ring. She looked back at Elvis, who said quickly, “I know what people will say, that we’re rushing into this, that this ain’t the right time, we should think things through, but I don’t care about all that. I need you in my life, Claire. You’re it for me, plain and simple. I know the timing is awful, but losing Momma has shown me how truly precious our time on this Earth is and that we need to make the most of it. So Claire Rose Barnes…will you marry me?”

Her mind was screaming at her to slow down, take a moment, talk this through…but her heart shattered all reasonable thought and whispered, “Yes.”

They didn’t tell either of their families what they were doing. They got dressed in the clothes from when they first met and drove into Memphis to get married by the Justice of the Peace. Another couple acted as their witnesses. (They would later sell their story to the papers to pay for a honeymoon in Florida.) Claire didn’t want to tell her parents, but Elvis, knowing how much they already hated him, insisted on flying to New York for a day to meet them in person. He mustered every ounce of good ole Southern boy charm to find some common ground with them. He promised he would take good care of her, that when they came back from Germany, he would have a proper wedding everyone could attend. Vernon simply welcomed her into the family with a hug and a kiss while Elvis’s grandmother Dodger smacked him upside the head for getting a quickie marriage. The Colonel put on a happy face for his client, but Claire told me later that she knew he resented the hell out of her. That man couldn’t stand anyone who could compete for influence over his client.

While stationed in Germany, they had their first child, a beautiful baby girl named Shelby Love, on Christmas Day of 1959. Elvis called her the greatest gift he could have ever received. You would have thought she hung the moon and stars with how that man doted on her. (I mean, who could forget her appearance on the ’68 Special, standing next to her daddy singing Can’t Help Falling in Love? The kid was a natural singer and performer, just like her old man.) A little boy Shiloh Rain was born in ’62, whose birth Elvis almost missed because of his hectic Hollywood shooting and recording schedule. (Elvis tried to convince Claire to name the boy Freddy after his favorite fictional superhero, but she was firmly against it.)

The First Family of Rock and Roll, four peas in a pod, living the American dream. Unfortunately for them, nothing gold can stay.

June 26, 1972 Memphis

Graceland was crawling with people. It was Shiloh’s tenth birthday. He woke up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, playing with his cousins and raising hell all over the property. Claire was the happy hostess with some much-needed assistance from Vernon. Her parents flew down for the party but stayed at the Peabody in the city. By the time they arrived, the party was in full swing. She was grateful for this to avoid her mother’s pointed questions about Elvis’s absence.

He will be here, Claire kept telling herself. He promised.

But the day wore on, and Elvis kept not being there. She tried calling Jerry, the Colonel, anyone to try and find out where the hell he was. No luck. Shiloh’s disappointment was evident on his flushed face when it came time to sing happy birthday. Everyone cheered when he blew out his candles, and Claire hugged him. Putting on a happy face, she asked, “What did you wish for, sweetheart?”

“I wish Daddy was here.”

Her heart broke at that moment. Ever the loving big sister, Shelby distracted her brother with a newly discovered present. As Claire cut the cake and divided pieces onto little plates, her mother asked, “Your husband does remember he has a family, correct?”

“Please Mother, not now.”

Long after the party ended and everyone had left, Claire was in the kitchen washing dishes when the phone rang. It was him. She dried off her hands and picked up the receiver. But she didn’t say anything. Let him squirm.

“Hello? Claire honey, are you there?”

“I’m here,” Claire said. She pushed herself off the counter and grabbed the orange juice from the refrigerator. She added a splash of the liquid to three fingers’ worth of vodka she poured herself earlier. “What’s your excuse?”

“Now that ain’t fair,” Elvis replied. “The Colonel’s been running my ass ragged. I just can’t-“

“What’s not fair,” Claire said sharply, “is your son not having his father here on his birthday. What’s not fair is me having to deal with snide comments from my mother because you aren’t here. I don’t give a good Goddamn about the Colonel or what kind of touring schedule he’s got you on. We are your family, Elvis Presley! Don’t we matter more to you than random strangers?”

Claire was shaking. All her anger, resentment, frustration, and disappointment came bursting out like water from a broken levee. She couldn’t stop it, wouldn’t stop it. She took a shuttering breath and whimpered, “You say you can’t tell that man no, but I’ve seen you do it. When it matters, you’ve said no. It’s never been about not being able to say no, it’s that…you don’t seem to want to.”

She could hear him crying on the other end. Part of her, the naïve young girl that still believed their love was stronger than anything, wanted to take it all back and comfort him. But that girl had grown up. And it wasn’t just her he disappointed this time.

“I do want to, honey,” Elvis cried. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. Y’all matter so much to me, I swear on my life. You and the kids are the most important people to me. Don’t-don’t give up on me just yet. Please…I’m begging you. I swear I’m gonna do better, I’ll fix this. I-“

“Elvis,” Claire said, wiping away the tears rolling down her cheeks, “how many times have we had this conversation? Ever since you started this residency in Vegas, you’re hardly ever home. It’s like you’re trapped there. You say you’re going to do better? Then do it! Because I’ve-I’ve about reached the end of my rope here.”

Something needed to change. EP knew his marriage, his family, his everything was on the brink of destruction. But with his Vegas residency seemingly never-ending, my buddy didn’t know how to begin to dig himself out. Lucky for him, the universe was about to hand him a couple of wild cards named Lizzie and Shannon.

Chapter One

A/N: Please share your thoughts on the story! I eat that shit up like candy. If you'd like to see more of the before times, feel free to send me asks or put requests in the comments. I have a few places I'd love to expand on in this world, but why not open it up to everyone? Until next time!

PS- I've noticed that some writers will tag people who want to know when a story is updated. If you'd like that, feel free to request that (and if you do, bless you. I would be beyond chuffed.)

#baz luhrmann elvis #elvis presley #elvis 2022 #austin butler elvis #elvis movie #elvis film #austin!elvis #sapphire-scribblings #Vegastown

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spikesbimbo · 4 years ago

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Drunk in Love

Summary: Getting drunk and confessing your love for your “boy” friend and fucking him was most definitely not what you expected to go down on the usual night.

Pairing: Issei Matusukawa x Reader

Tags: Timeskip!Tattoed Mattsun, softdom!issei Hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, smut, fluff, virgin!reader, Unptrotected sex, non-penetrative sex, fingering, oral, pussy/thigh job, clit slapping, sweet dirty talk, praise, drunk sex

Word count: 7.2k

A/N: I heard pussy job and I wrote a whole ass novel

18+ Minors DNI

You run your finger over the condensation of your empty drink, drawing shapes (or what you thought to be shapes, you couldn’t tell at this point) waiting for your dear friend, Makki to bring you a refill of your cocktail.

“Here ya go.” Makki said as he returned with your beloved Malibu Sunset. The smooth coconut rum bringing you back to your first and favorite drink that you ever got drunk on in high school. You smiling at the memory

“Thanks.” you say. Your reply being mumbled by the liquid already in your mouth.

This all started with Iwaizumi calling Mattsun up, you and Makki hearing “You wanna get wasted?” on the other side of the phone. And with pleasure, you two were already packing your stuff up, shoving yalls “pregame” bottles back in the bag. The three of you made your happy way there climbing through the fence of the abandoned skate park you were in. Needles to say it was abandoned for a reason, but what’s life without a little danger.

You three and the rest of the third years have been friends since high school, meeting in freshman year, and now including Oikawa’s girlfriend. You actually didn’t like Oikawa at first, his “pretty boy” demeanor making you internally cringe. But his personality grew quickly on you, being the perfect target to tease you and Iwa clowning him over everything.

Now back to you on your nth drink, complaining about your previous job that fired you because u got injured, even though you know you wouldn’t have lasted long there anyways because you weren’t that academically inclined. Bright? Whatever you wanted to call it.

And as-usual it wasn’t long before your crybaby ass immediately called Makki and Issei and “tried” your best to tell them what happed with your dramatic self-induced tears running down you race, while Makki urged to you to try to calm down and Issei straight up laughing at the state your were in, snot running out of your nose. You recoiling at the thought, hoping they forgot. (Spoiler, they didn’t)

But now you nanny for a rich couple and you get payed good to play with cute babies all day, sounds good to you! Luckily, you had the week off due to them going on a vacation, you think it was France, no, the south of France. Must be nice.

Cue to now, Mattsun chuckling and leaning on you and Iwaizumi; both of you, especially Iwa, being visibly done with his shit. Him reminding you about the times you bought him some random shit, which you went out of your way for since he always payed for you, like that chopper keychain because you said it reminder you of him.

He didn’t know what compelled you to say his 6’2, tattooed built self looked like a tiny reindeer but okay. It still meant a lot to him, hooking it onto his motorcycle keys. But you knew he appreciated it, despite his appearance he’s a softie.

“You wanna try this’” He says gaining his composure offering you one of the shots he got.

You took one of the mini glasses, not being the type to back down and promptly swung the drink to the back of your mouth, quickly coughing before it even reached your throat.

“This shit is fucking gross.” You coughed out bringing the glass down from your lips.

“Imagine being sober. Can’t relate.” He said taking another shot.

“I guess I should do that but ive passed the point of giving a fuck” You said sending yall into a giggling fit while somehow Makki was thrown in to support yall from falling over. You two carry on laughing ignoring everyone’s stares at you thinking about how much yall fit perfectly together.

Makki rearranges himself to sit back in his chair, far away, from the both of you, whispering “Damn. I’m really third wheeling.” under his breath. Getting a snicker out of Oikawa sitting next to him.

“When your best friends are ignoring you. Sad times.” He continues bringing his bottle to his mouth getting no response.

Issei chuckles and gets up shoving his hands in his pocket reaching for the cigarettes. Pulling them out while failing to find his lighter

“Fuck.” He muttered

“Any’all got a light?”

No one responds so you sacrifice yourself “Yeah” you say reaching into your pocket grabbing out your prized possession of a hot pink, bedazzled lighter that you did yourself, reaching out to hand it to him.

“Don’t lose it” you stated seriously trying not to break a smile.

“K’ sweet cheeks.” He said smirking into the butt between his lips as he walked away. Your face now burning up, hoping that everyone would think it was because of the alcohol.

You mind wanders, thinking about the “dates” you two go on, from watching shows you “forcing” him to watch some romantic anime, to going to the skatepark, to playing video games with the rest of the 3rd years (which you don’t really like but you’ll play for him) and him surprising you with takeout, you bringing out candles trying your best to make it cute with him telling u everything you everything about his day.

And you always tried to remain calm, even though sometimes he deserved to get his ass beat, like that one time he broke one of your favorite pair of heels. It honestly hurt him even more, he wanted you to get mad at him but no, you just acted like nothing happened. Making the guilt rise in him. Let’s just say didn’t have to lift a finger for the next few weeks.

You basically babied him, taking care of all his “chores”, mainly making him food when you were at his place knowing he hated doing it. Makki teasing you for acting like his housewife, leading to you slapping the shit outta him while trying to cover your now red cheeks.

You’ve never been so grateful for your attire at the moment, blessing yourself for not wearing your usual outfits of short skirts and cute tops, defending yourself saying what housewife dresses in beat up vans and baggy clothes. You definitely not imaging yourself in that position for the rest of the day.

You expressed that you just liked to take care of people, which was true. You always looked out for them, bringing an extra umbrella, to bringing cookies you made at 2 in the morning to school, always carrying band-aids (yes, the paw patrol ones you took from the kids you babysit).

You checked the time on your phone seeing it was late since the sun at last went down, your lock screen being your dogs to their complaint since they have a group photos of you all from high school as theirs. To which you replied “They’re my babies” getting a groan and huff out of them.

Seeing the notifications of your group chat you grinned at the contact name you and Issei gave each other; yall jokingly call each other pet names, his contact being honeybun and yours being pumpkin, even including Makki in your contacts as pudding bc then it wasn’t weird, right? no.

“What’re you smiling at y/n?” Oikawa cheekily asks teasing you. You turn to him giving him a dirty look, not having enough energy to deal him right now.

“Don’t listen to his bullshit.” Oikawa’s girlfriend says. You’re thankful for her. She was always on your side, being the only other girl in your friend group. To be honest you just wanted her and you to hang out most of the time, but of course to your disapproval her boyfriend and his friends had to join in.

“Fuck this. Fuck you. I’m sleeping.” You say getting up to her objection, the only thing on your mind wanting to retire for the night.

“You sure you’ll be fine? Let us at least walk you home.” She said already grabbing her boyfriend’s arm.

“Nah, im good. I live right down the road.” You try to say not slurring. The last thing you want is him teasing you even more, especially in this state, knowing you, you’d probably start crying at the slightest irritation when youre this drunk.

You started to “walk” towards your house resting your hand against the brick walls to not lose your balance, leading you to run into Issei. You stopped to watch him lean against the alley holding a cigarette between his index and middle finger.

“I’m hiding like a bitch” He says noticing you, resting his weight against the wall.

“Wanna be a bitch with me? He grinned blowing out the smoke out with his words.

You didn’t reply, just walking over to him, just being around him made you feel warm.

"Fuck its windy.” He says trying to light a new cig.

“C’you make me a house?” He asks.

You go up and put your hands around his cigarette, this not being your first time. Your hands wrap a little tighter to prevent the wind from burning out his flame. He joins you with his free hand helping, finally getting his cig to light.

“Thanks doll” He smirks.

“No problem princess.” You reply earning a laugh out of him.

He takes his first hit with his and your hands still wrapped around it. He gets an up-close look at your hands, noticing how tiny they were, seeing all the scars that he never noticed, making a mental note to ask you how you got them later.

His head gets close to yours for the first time in a while due to his height. You glance at his face, noticing his features seeing some stubble growing on his face.

“You ain’t shave?” You ask, never seeing it in the past, while he was moving back up, blowing the smoke away from you.

“What, you don’t like my majestic beard? “He jokes. Making you giggle almost losing your balance before catching yourself on the wall.

“s’too much work.” He starts. “You wanna shave it for me?” he says slightly leaning towards you. Handing you back your lighter knowing you didn’t need him to carry it because your pants actually had pockets in them for once.

You let out a soft laugh not responding again. He catches on, you got quiet when you were tired and he made out that you were walking towards your house.

��You going home?” he asks already knowing the answer.

“Yeah.” You respond more than happy to have him walk you back, him already moving to walk next to you.

He walks you home, you two talking about random shit, both of you forgetting about your skateboards leaving Makki to deal with them. And even though you’re drunk as fuck you’re still in the right state of mind, carrying a normal conversation with him. But just because you’ve built a tolerance doesn’t mean you can do basic tasks, like walk correctly.

When he reaches your house, he types in the keycode, your first dogs birthday, being glad that you, him and Makki have each other’s memorized.

He leads you into you house setting you on the couch, petting your dogs that ran up to him.

“Mommy’s not feeling too good” He said giving them the affection they deserved.

“Yes I am.” You slurred getting them attention on you now.

He walked over to your counter putting on the playlist that you two made together on shuffle, High fashion being the first to play. You didn’t like when it was quiet because too many thoughts would run though your head. You were in no way sad, singing the lyrics while you were laughing barely being able to hold yourself up as proof.

Remembering you were tired, he takes you off the couch and borderline carries you to your room, , setting you on your plush blankets that you had so many of because it was warm and comfy.

“Easy, there. Try to sit up.”He said, trying to ask you what draws your pj’s were in because he didn’t want to snoop around; neither of you being bothered that you were half naked, what’s the difference between panties and a bikini, he thought remembering the times you’ve been to the beach together.

Well it was maybe the fact that you were clinging onto him because u stumbled into him and he was closest stable thing around and you wouldn’t let go because it was cold and you couldn’t stop shaking.

He ignores his thoughts and grabs the shirt he got out figuring you don’t need to change your bra because you told him and Makki that it was normal to keep it on for a few days after they were in awe as you were explaining how expensive they were. You calling Oikawa’s girlfriend to prove your point as she immediately agreed with you…Sometimes you might have got a little too comfortable with them.

You hear the song in the background change to Love Songs, you humming along, “Hope you smile when you listen.”

You were still holding on to him, your boobs squeezing against him, him only being able to put a t-shirt on you, while you looked up at him with your red glossy eyes making him burn up.

You fidget timidly with your face now in his chest while gripping his sweater. Trying to build up the little courage you had. He tilts your head up making you look at him, wondering what you were thinking about.

You try to express yourself, but you can’t get the words out him having no idea what is going on in your head at the moment.

“It’s okay to be nervous sometimes. Tell me” He gently says reading your body language. He was intuitive, so there was no way you could hide your feelings from him.

But you knew you could trust him, him having full self-control, always staying collected and following through on what he said he’d do. He went out of his way to avoid any friction coming between you two, him never raising his voice or starting an argument.

“We need to talk.” You started. “About something important.”

“Ok…What is it?” He questioned rubbing his hands on your back. You were so nervous, were you really about to say this? Confess your feelings that you’ve pushed to the back of your heart for so long?

“I… I l… I love your face. And the stuff in it. and around it.” You spoke, being surprised you did it stutter.

He stood there, hands stopped moving trying to process what you just said.

“Just you, in general…” You finally confess trying to state three things at once barely getting your words out.

But he understood exactly what you meant, or maybe he was warping what you said to fit what he wanted.

"I don’t even know when I started liking you, but this shit won't go away." You restated

Nope. He clearly just heard you say that.

He doesn’t understand what’s so different about today. Yall have been in this scenario multiple times taking care of each other, sometimes including another into the mix.

You didn’t understand either. You just felt like the time was right, even though you know it wasn’t the best idea to confess while you were drunk off your ass.

But you couldn’t help it, your feelings overflowing, which you never until this day let get the best of you, being vulnerable and trusting is not your usual . Youve never even had a crush on anyone, him being to only in your whole life to make you blush.

Who you been vibin' wit and why I can't make you mine?

You should have seen the signs that you feel for him when he helped that lady that lives down the street from him set up her Christmas lights or when he first met your dog that wasn’t fond of men, but it instantly liked him. And you loved his selflessness it was something you admired and applauded.

“y/n” He tries talking you down, making sure you weren’t just saying this because of alcohol, deep down knowing he felt the same, you always being in the back of his mind.

You were generous with your time too, always being there for him. You knew he was softer than he appeared, he was tender, sensitive and vulnerable. He tried his hardest to not get into situations where anyone would get hurt, like breakups, arguments, and so on.

Which is why he won’t make the first move. He pushes his feelings to the back of his head. He values your friendship more than anything, but he can see what develops. If love is meant to be, it will happen.

I told you I am down for the worse or the better. But I keep sticking to you cause them four stupid letters

“You make me so happy. And I’ll always care about you. Okay? He says breaking the silence, trying to reassure you.

“You mean so much to me—something I can’t even put into words because nothing can compare- I’ve wanted you since that day you tripped and bust your ass in the school hallway I still want you even though you drive me insane.”

“Iss-“ You tried to get out only to have him continue talking over you.

"I love that you can’t leave the house without a jacket. I love the wrinkles that appear on your forehead after you call me crazy. I love that it takes you hours to get ready. I love that you always know how to make me feel better. I love that even when you don’t agree with my decisions you always trust me to make them. I love that when I spend a day with you, I can still smell you on my clothes; and I love that you are the last person I think of before I go to sleep at night."

You stood there awestruck for what feels like eternity until you mustered the bravery to speak “I didn’t expect you to feel the same way-” You said, being dumbfounded because from what you’ve seen treats everyone “nice”, were you really getting special treatment?

He tilts your chin up, locking his dark eyes with yours. “Baby I don’t know if your notice but you and Makki are my only people that aren’t my family that call me my first name.”

He has a point. You think pushing yourself more into him, trying to fuse your bodies together to hide, not relaxing what you were doing to him. He tries to nudge your legs to the side but you won’t let go still clinging onto him.

“fuck” He groans. You pulling back wondering why until you looked down and noticed. A smirk appeared on your face as you reattached your self to him like velcro. You were feeling bold, the liquid courage still in your system driving you to slide your fingers down his chest, looking him in the eyes before stopping at his waistband.

He knows what you’re doing, him being in this position multiple times. Does he really want to ruin your friendship like this? He hasn’t even asked you to be his girlfriend. He tries to push you off him already knowing you were gonna complain. But what he didn’t expect was for you to whimper out his name in that pretty voice of yours.

He tried to keep his calm, blood already rushing down. “You know what you’re doing”

“yeah” You start.

“y’don’t want me?” Giving him your pouty face that you know he’s weak for, hoping that’ll work, insecurity piling up. Was it because your boobs weren’t that big or that fact that you were dressed like man? Was he not attracted to you right now, only liking you when you were dolled up?

“Fuck” You think. You should have worn something cute instead of dressing like a whole ass man even with your makeup fully done. Its not like you were supposed to know you were gonna get fucked today.

His were burning holes into you now, thinking of how to say “No, I would be more that happy to fuck you!” to his best friend, soon regaining his consciousness finally speaking.

“Fuck no doll, ive wanted you for a minute. You know me better than I know myself. How did you not notice my feelings?”

You got me singing love songs, love songs, love songs

“You’re really hard to read” You replied trying to maintain your seductive act, resting your hands back on his chest.

“So are you.” He said lowering his head, you still looking up at him, taking in your gleaming eyes.

Sex ain't the only thing that's on my mind But you get me so excited, whoa

Your heart was beating so wildly that you could only take little sips of breath. His hands running down your waist stopping at your hips.

“Can I kiss you?" He asks "...yeah” you attempted to say as confidently as you could, nodding your head along with it.

His face bent down, hot mouth breathing over you. His lips slowly moved, brushing over yours, the liquor on his lips that you hated; only choosing fruity drinks even though you got relentlessly teased you for it. You pushed further into the kiss desperately wanting more. Your teeth clicking his from being impatient, wanting to suck him in. Your hands sliding under his shirt subconscious desires reaching out.

Irreplaceable Tattoos from your neck that drop down to your ankles

“You’re drunk…” he says snapping you out of your trance.

“So are you.”

He dove in for another kiss much more passionate than the previous one, arguably needy, pusing you on the bed to which you more than happily comply. He tugs back not letting his mind get the best of him, disconnecting your spit trial leaving you panting. “You sure this alright?” He says deep down hoping you still say yes.

You pull him back for your answer, your grabby little hands working their way back up his shirt. He gets the hint and pauses your lips rendezvous, taking off the turtleneck that he looked oh so good in, before seeing his unclothed body. You’re admiring his body in a new way, before just complimenting him whenever he got a new tattoo, now up under him tracing them like a lovestruck teenager.

“When did you get this one?” You quietly ask, his ears closer to you than they’ve ever been.

“I got it that day you faked sick”

“What! You said were gonna take me!” You sulked, turning your head away from his as much as you could, crossing your arms.

He let out a slight laugh before gently taking your face in his hands, guiding you back into the kiss.

This is not really what he imagined for your first time. He’s an old-fashioned romantic who likes to take one step at a time. But then again nothing was ever normal with you. That said, when he falls in love, he falls deep.

“You’ve done this before?” You uttered.

“Hmm?” He mumbles, unmoving his lips from you kissing you, moving towards your neck.

“You still with that other girl?”

“No. I broke it off her, everything that came out of her mouth was bullshit, and no she wasn’t my girlfriend.”

“You didn’t trust her? You added. Trying to distract him until you could think of a way you could say “hey in my 21 years of life I’ve never got passed kissing a guy.”

“Our relationship was purely built on lies, I’d second guess everything she said. He replied, wondering if you were interrogating him.

“Why’d you wanna know?” He asked bringing his face up from your skin.

“…No one’s ever touched me like this, fuck.” You bashfully admitted, thoughts racing through your head that he didn’t want you anymore because you weren’t experienced.

But he knew what was running through that pretty head of yours, his fingers reaching out to with your hair trying to comfort you.

“You’re a virgin?” He curiously asked dragging his hand to your cheek, you leaning into it.

“y-yeah” you muttered trying to move your eyes away from his looking down at his body.

“I thought you had a boyfriend before” he said, softly turning your jaw to make you look at him. Your eyes diverted from his arms back to his eyes.

“We weren’t actually dating” You quickly say trying to clear up the misunderstanding. “He was my friend and seatmate that pretended to be my fake boyfriend to get me out of some trouble” you spewed out “and I guess I forgot to tell everyone that it was fake.”

“Even if we were that doesn’t mean we fucked.” You sheepishly replied.

“So… what trouble did your fake boyfriend get you out of.” He questioned knowing how much trouble it must have been for you, miss independent, to go to such lengths.

“Umm, well…this guy wouldn’t stop flirting with me even after I told him I don’t like him, even following me to my other classes.”

He wasn’t surprised, you were definitely a sight for sore eyes, in fact the prettiest thing he’s laid his eyes on, your beaming eyes, your dimple when you smiled, your pretty face, your “ugly” laugh, he could go on for days.

“Why are we talking about this” You whined, reaching your hand back out to him.

He took a hint and continued kissing you, bringing you closer to him while you attempted to take you shirt off. His hands helping you seeing as that you were struggling, being lost in his touch, finishing by moving you up more on you bed, pushing your plushies out of the way, to your protested because “they had feelings too.”

He ignored you, bending down to pull your panties off stopping once he saw the slick coming through them.

“Fuck baby you’re wet” He breathed dragging his fingers across your clothed slit earing a whimper from you, leaving his fingers drenched.

Shawty, you wanna feel good, I wanna feel good too Don't I make you feel good?

“M’always wet.” you responded.

From what? He questions taking off your soaked cotton panties, tossing them to the side.

“From me?” He smirks bringing his hand back towards your heat. You not even comprehending what he just said, just knowing that you’re ashamed of how worked up you were getting.

You were in awe. You’ve always known his hands were big, but in this situation your mind wondered. His fingers were so much bigger than yours knowing you can barely fit two inside your with out it hurting, and not in a good way.

“Do you know how pretty you are? It’s honestly distracting.”. He says kissing down your whole body, stopping at your breasts, licking lazily around and coming back to the nub. The attention on your nipples making you squirm and he finally lets go, you grateful that he stopped or you would have almost cum, how embarrassing.

“I thought you said were gonna get them pierced” He remembered, you going on a whole rant about how cute they were.

“You said u were gnna get em with me” You looked back on, reminding yourself making him promise to get them with you because you were too scared of the pain.

“That was the same day you played sick and I got that tattoo.” He stated lightening the mood, hoping you can calm yourself down before you actually embarrass yourself.

He picks back up and continues kissing all the way down your body, you playing with his hair while biting your lip to muffle your moans and whine until he reaches your entrance.

He parted your legs, your pussy laid out before him, believing you no have reason to be shy about it either. He paused, admiring your swollen cunt and puffy clit, you were beautiful.

The feeling that he didn't want anyone else ever in his position overtook him. He let out a little breath on your clit and you thrashed around. He wasn't going to play. “I’ll take care of you.”

His lips travel over your skin, light and heated before settling himself between your legs, grabbing you by your thighs and dragging you closer. “That tickles.” you giggle, nerves making you kick your legs, almost hitting him in the face before he grabs them. He puts them down locking your legs with his arms, lowering himself until he’s on the ground facing you.

“Does it make you nervous when I stare?” he teases while your covering your face trying to hide the blush he caused. He puts his mouth on you, quickly gripping your thighs, his hands leaving imprints in your skin dragging you even more into him, deprived kisses taking over your body.

“yer so pretty” You purred seeing the sight of his big build between your legs, your fingers grabbing onto his curly dark locks, tugging them.

Issei moans, his voice radiating through your body, forcing out a cry, blessing him with your pretty voice. “I-Issei!” You cry, never feeling like this before, your vibrator and hands doing it no justice.

“Shh, just look at me, doll.”

You can barely make out what he says, so drunk on pleasure. You try your best, doing anything to see the pretty man beneath you. But you get interrupted by your pleasure, your back arching not being able to control your body, grinding down to meet his lips, heat rising in you.

He kisses through your wetness playing with your bud. You choking on your spit, back arching again your body tensing up. “Issei,” You beg, grabbing him knowing what you want but not being able to express it. Luckily he can read you like an open book, knowing what you want, driving you over the edge as he makes you see stars. “Good girl,” he sighs when he feels you let go of his wrist letting him bring you your first orgasm.

“Look at your thighs shaking so much.” He teasingly cooed, wrapping his hands around them, bringing you out of your daze.

Shawty, your body is so exciting

Arching your back into the blankets, letting out a whine “Want your fingers.”.

He lets out a condescending laugh. “You need to learn to be patient. You just came and you’re already so eager for more?”

But by the time he finished your body went limp, you were totally weak, body loose-limbed and pliant. Your mind clouded by lust and deep in your own world. You gasped out a little sob, unable to comprehend anything beyond the discomfort and the need to have it gone. You can’t think straight all you can do is take action, grabbing his arm him easing his fingers into to you.

It’s not too tight, is it?” you ask clenching around his fingers.

“Just relax… let yourself feel it” He says barely being able to move in you. Fuck so were so tight.

“I love the way you look with my fingers inside you.” He added starting to thrust them inside you, making you let out a string of moans.

“Look how good you take it.”

“Fuck, you’re so messy.” He groaned feeling the slick running down his hands, before taking them out.

“Issei-i,” You cried when he pulled away, pleasure leaving you, tears coming back.

He shushes you easily, his fingers wiping your tears. You were so precious to him, your moans music to his ears. He slows down repositioning his fingers, making you let out a whimper squeezing around them. Your brains so crowded you can’t focus, can’t gather the strength to speak when he thrust them faster inside you.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you fell back, fingers curling inside you, chanting his name over and over, incoherent words coming out of your mouth begging for more.

You pussy tightens as you cum, unable to breath, letting out gasps and whines. Him still fucking you, fingers not stopping, pushing them in and out relentlessly feeling both pain and pleasure. You lay there, wet in your own cum not giving yourself a break before you went and got what you really wanted, his cock.

His eyes followed the movement of your hands as they pushed down his boxers, revealing the length of his cock, that jutted proudly from his hips. He was so pretty, so virile and handsome. Wondering how lucky you were to be in such a position with him.

You pushed away those thoughts and focused on him, pulling him forward gently, but he followed his encouragement. One of his hands tilted his cock down toward your lips. “Open your mouth for me, baby.”

You parted them instantly, tongue sliding slightly outward, and then you whimpered as the warm weight of his cock slid into your mouth. You let your eyes flutter closed and swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock not knowing exactly what you were doing, but it was working, tasting the salty tang of the precum that wept from his leaking slit. You moved your tongue as the he put his hand into your hair, gripping the strands and pushing deeper into his mouth.

“You look so good on your knees like that. “He says meeting your eyes once again, almost cumming from the picture below him.

“Slowly, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” He says slowing you down by grabbing your hair, making a pace that you follow.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby, just like that.” Seeing that sinful look in your eyes with your redden swollen lips.

You moan feeling yourself drip down your thighs, getting even wetter giving him head. Trying to ease the discomfort by closing your legs, griding them together, trying to find some friction. Your ears hearing “That’s so fucking hot.” watching the scene unfold beneath him.

Your jaw hurts, trying got make him cum faster using your hands and lips together hollowing your cheeks. “Oh fuck, oh, Jesus, fuck yes, there, just like that, fucking Christ" he groans out, his voice sounded beautiful to your ears, knowing he was about to cum.

He finally lets go cumming in your mouth, you swallowing it all, trying not to wince at the taste. “Did I do good” You ask waiting for his reply. Your doll eyes, so red and worn out looking up at him for approval. Fuck he was whipped.

“Yeah…fuck baby”

I love when you get on top and you ride it

You get back under him, his cock resting on you, drenched and clenching around nothing, resting in your cum. You working yourself up against him.

“What makes you think I’m going to fuck you?” He says to your complaint.

“You’re not ready yet.” he mumbles against your whining. Spreading your legs, slapping your clit a few times before letting his cock rest on your folds. Finally getting “seated” he picks up your legs and puts them both on one of his shoulders your thighs warming his cock, your knees touching his cheek not moving, getting a kick out of how desperate your were for him.

“s-stop being mean” You cried reaching out for him to come closer, needing affection after all you’ve been though.

“Aww, poor baby, you want me to take care of it for you? He says leaning into you, reaching your kiss, tasting the remnants of the cum in your mouth.

He plundered your mouth and slowly teased his cock over your entrance, catching it against your clit and making you whimper into the kiss, clearly wanting to be fucked. Your kiss turned you sucking on Issei’s tongue and lips, biting the swollen pout until his lips were red and puffy. He pulled back and looked down at you, a beautiful mess under him.

His fat cock head pushed between your folds. The moan escaping both of your lips was primal. You were turned on beyond imagination and the way he was thrusting forward, spreading his leaking precum on your wet clit was almost too much. He quickly picked up his pace fucking your folds, his warm head brushing against your clit with every movement, but your greedy self wanted more.

The fact that he made you cum so easily made you proud. Just because you’ve never gone this far with someone else doesn’t mean you’ve never cum, you’ve had a lot of practice over the years, being insatiable, the sheets soaked underneath you from your previous orgasms being proof.

“Keep your eyes open, look at me, baby.” He moans getting your attention him.

You tried, you really tried, but the way he was stroking you, imagining what it’d be like to actually sit on his cock, the lewd sounds echoing in the background leaving you unable to focus.

He taps on your cheek eventually getting you look at him, keeping your mind on him by placing his fingers in your mouth you letting him, hazily sucking on them, not being able to close your mouth.

“Oh, baby, you’re drooling everywhere.” He grumbles. Your spit dripping onto his fingers, the friction of your thighs making him feral, moving at an even faster pace. Your body bouncing with every thrust.

“You gonna cum after I cum on your little clit? Come one more time for me, I know you’ve got it in you.” You sob feeling the puddle beneath you, time slowing, fire pooling in your tummy. Listening to his words you let yourself go. You come with a silent scream as the pleasure ripped through your body, your nails scratching his soft skin. Your vison fading to black feeling him lose his rhythm and moaning a mixture of curse words along with your name, feeling him cum on your tummy before resting his head in your neck while letting your legs go.

“So good for me, look at how much you came.” He says breaking the static. You whining into his shoulder, emotions high, never doing this before.

“I know, baby, I know. I’m right here, just breathe.” He says. You two laying in silence for an unclear amount of time, him rubbing your back while you rest in his chest almost dozing off.

“Are we still…friends?” You croak out trying to hold back your sobs already knowing the answer that you two were defiantly not friends now and never would be just friends again.

“Friends don’t do this type of shit” He maintained grabbing your shoulders to sit you and him up. You were worried, did he only do this with you because he was drunk? You were anxious that you scared him away because you just poured your heart out to him and pushed yourself on him. You left your head down, tears already coming out to your dismay. You moved your hand up to wipe them but he beat you to it.

“Look at me… I love you.” He says holding your cheeks in his palm. You in awe, hoping that you weren’t imagining it, that this was real life.

“R-really” You question making him worry too, preferring to forgive and forget rather than letting this a divide between the two of you in case you went back on your feelings. You were so overwhelmed, never feeling love until this moment, so happy that the person you longed for liked you back. Yours tears running once again.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright...Don’t cry.”

You don’t even know why you were crying, the hangover already getting to you making you get a headache. You groaning in his arms complaining that your head and throat hurt.

“Ill be back” he says detaching himself from you, letting you know he was coming right back.

He walks to your fridge opening it to see every drink but water, having too dig through all of them, especially the absurd amount of apple juice guessing it was your “once a year craving for it”. He finally got you some cold water, putting It in a cup and waked back to your room.

“Issei” you whined not picking your head up from the pillow.

“Shh baby im right here.”

He sat down beside you on your bed lifting your head up. “Here drink this” he reassured, to which you ignored not wanting anything to go in your mouth, just wanting the day, or night as it was now, to end.

“It’s just water, honey, look.” You sat yourself up with his help seeing him in just his boxers, you remembering your still naked, not caring enough to cover yourself. He held to glass to your mouth, babying you, tilting it far back enough to where you could drink it. The water hit the back of your mouth feeling like a shot making you cough.

“I know, it hurts. I’m sorry but we have to” He stated. You continued to drink it, feeling the stinging in the back of your throat, him comforting you, calling you “good girl” which was unsurprisingly working.

He put the cup on your dresser when you finished, climbing back into bed with you leaning your body into his. “Have you ever thought about...us? Y’know, as an...item?” he said causing you to look at him with wide eyes.

“Call me selfish, but I don’t ever want anyone else to touch you.” He insisted making you cheeks flush. You try to think of a way to respond, not wanting to keep him waiting.

“You’re the best thing that has, and ever will, happen to me. Not only am I deeply in love with you, you’re my best friend.” You stammer out, your shaky hands somehow made there way to his neck, letting them fall slowly before he grabs them dragging you in for a kiss before you got to even see his face.

“Everybody has always thought we’re a couple.” He continued taking his time kissing you all over your face. “Then I guess we should be.” You retort, kissing him back before you could see his reaction, not wanted to be embarrassed anymore today. But he caught you, holding you still “Really “y/n? Like deadass?” He asked.

“Yes dummy, I want to be your girlfriend” You say causing him to grin swearing you’ve never seen him smile that big, before he gives you one last kiss.

“I always kiss you on the cheek, why are you blushing now? He teases laying back down, you following along. You just snuggle into him mumbling something along the lines of “m’tired”, he understanding and speaking to you in a soft, gentle voice while helping you to bed, so he doesn’t make it harder for you to sleep by being loud. “I’m here love, I’m not going anywhere.” He whispers into your ear mkanig your heart swoon one last time before you pass out.

“I l-love you issei.” You sleepily mumble.

“Tell me this when you’re sober.” He says stroking your head.

“Just relax, close your eyes...”He murmurs, your heart beating slower every second. Both of you together, lazy, slow presses. Limbs pressed together, chests heaving, fingers trailing down backs, tracing lazy patterns.

“Oh!…” He remembers. “If you really wanna get them pierced, we could get matching ones.”

#haikyuu x reader #issei x reader #matsukawa x reader #mattsun x reader #matsuwaka issei #haikyuu smut #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #matsukawa issei x reader #tw drunk sex #tw under the influence

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