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alphabetboyluvr · 3 months

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the curious lifespan of migrating monarchs - jjk

THE CURIOUS LIFESPAN OF MIGRATING MONARCHS (& other aurelian affairs)

pairing: streamer!jk x international student!female oc (s2l)

warnings: strangers to lovers, clubbing, foul language, alcohol, vaping lol, jungkook is kinda famous, the oc is oblivious, the oc is also a foreign student who has very recently arrived in Korea!! (pls note - while i've been in korean uni dorms, i've never been in yonsei dorms specifically so don't shout at me if it isn't supeeeerr accurate), jaykay is speaking in eng for like 90% of this!!, i've also never watched a gaming streamer and had to do so for research lmao so there's a lot of guesswork going awwwn <3, the oc has tattoos, they bond over this, cute nicknames (tokki and nabi <3), one bed trope?? kinda, jaykay lives w/ yoongi and tae (they are streamers too (and dj?? (tae is a bit unhinged))), jungkook wears calvins!, a singular appearance of yoongi in his boxers!!, tipsy hookup, fingering, protected sex (woo!), desk sex, oral (m receiving), girliepop swallows <3, brief mentions of jungkook's starry eyes, lots of kisses, bunny ears, (1) mention of cross-fit

wordcount: 13011

note from holly: this was a commission done for the lovely Michelle over on my kofi page!! i don't open commissions often, but when I do I'm very lucky that the requests are so much fun. this actually ended up being way longer than it was supposed to be lol and is also available on wattpad!! also fun facts for you - I imagine the boys apartment (and jks room!) to be same as jk + jimins place in BD, just a little bigger lmao

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

CLUB SUNDOWN WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE SATURDAY 02:24

Time ceases to exist after the sun goes down in Seoul. It could be two, or it could be five. The only thing that really clues you in on the actual time is the DJ schedule that lights up behind the decks: 02:00-03:00, Blu-Tae.

It's some guy you've never heard of. Looks no older than you. Probably a student, just like the rest of the crowd.

His hair is as blue as his namesake, which does make you smile, and his choices aren't bad either (even if somewhat questionable). You've never heard a jazz remix of Darude's Sandstorm before, and you doubt you ever will again.

Club Sundown is just as rogue as the rest of the city after the sun goes down. Hidden in the basement—like all the best places in Seoul are—the small room is packed to the absolute brim.

Who cares for views and sunsets offered by rooftop bars when you could lose yourself in the debauchery of an eternal midnight, instead?

Drinks are spilt on strangers, and dances have lost the grandeur of old-fashioned waltzes. It's not like you could dance properly, even if you wanted to. There's just simply no space.

Like Alice, you're down the rabbit hole—and oh, how you prefer it to being in the real world. In the shadows, you can be anyone you like.

If you were sober, you'd know this is also the case for daily life. You're in a new country with no ties to your former self. Who you are is who you choose to be.

But the shadows aren't all that dark. The red lights of the club bleed into the cracks, painting everyone in the same subtle hue of danger.

They shine a little light on the identifiers of you; the thin black lines of your patchwork tattoos. Trailing up your arm, they're memories of your past selves, and an indicator of who you hope to become.

"Down this," you say to your dormmate, Rae, handing back over the drink you've just ordered from the bar. "Cloakroom, then dance."

Still carrying your winter coats, you'd wanted to check the place out before committing to it. Entry is free, but the cloakroom is the same price as a drink. It would only be worth putting your coats away if you knew you wanted to stay—and given the fact the DJ was playing O-Zone's Dragostea Din Tei as you entered, you know it's a no-brainer. While his stage name might make you roll your eyes a little, Blu-Tae certainly does cater to your tastes. When you're drunk, and music vibrates through you, it's empyrean. No place you'd rather be.

"Oh, Jesus," Rae gags as she sips the drink you've just handed her. Despite her disgust, she's laughing. Head to toe in black, dark hair loose around her shoulders, she's been your ride-or-die since you arrived in Seoul. Both international students in the same dorm, there's no one you'd rather get up to no good with. "Vodka?!"

You beam at her like you're from the heavens above, wrongfully relegated to the depths of sin. Pretend like you love vodka. It's totally not like you panicked when you saw the menu was all in Korean.

Vodka-coke is a universally understood delicacy—the easiest thing for you to order without making a tit of yourself or butchering the pronunciation. When the bartender ignored your botched attempt at ordering in Korean and answered in fluent English, you'd wanted to melt into the floor. So embarrassing.

You're here, like most foreign students, for a language course. Semester is yet to start, and as much as you've studied and practised hard, it's always different when putting it into practice.

"I'm sorry," you laugh. "It's fine—you can order next time!"

But Rae has the exact same predicament as you. If anything, your language skills are better than hers, so you really have no hope. It's vodka-cokes for the evening, or maybe highballs. Once your tipsy brain manages to compute hangul cocktail names, you'll be golden, but that won't be for another few weeks, yet.

You'll look back at this time of your life fondly, realising how simple it all was, even if it feels incredibly overwhelming right now.

Funnily enough, hope is exactly what you have: for the semester ahead, for this new life you're forging, for the opportunities that may come your way.

In fact, by the time you're on your third vodka coke, you've managed to convince yourself you actually like it. You also can't taste it, thanks to the bartender freepouring a 60-40 ratio of vodka to coke in the first drink. Your tastebuds were wiped out pretty much instantly.

Coats in the cloakroom, you're glad to be wearing thin layers. The room is stuffy; your skin sweaty. While meeting new friends had been the goal, you keep to yourself. Dance like nobody is watching. Hold Rae's hands to stay close and ward off weirdos. Quickly realise that clubs back home are slightly different. Pay it no mind. Ignore the intrusions of hands on waists, because men, disappointingly, are no different.

Or at least most of them aren't.

But most of them don't look like the man in the corner booth, laughing with his friends.

Though he is tall, he's eclipsed by his demeanour. Shoulders broad, he's in a dark T-shirt and pair of jeans. Nothing special. Nothing that warrants such a perplexed stare from you - but he's familiar. You can't place him, but he's got the kind of face you swear you've seen before.

Rae doesn't notice the change in your poise, nor how you're desperately trying to work out where you know him from. Perhaps you've seen him around your university? It's only been a couple of weeks, but people are steadily moving in. Maybe he works at the convenience store you constantly find yourself in? Or mans the front desk of the noraebang you and Rae visit pretty much every other evening?

Impossible, you think. If you'd seen him before, you wouldn't have forgotten him, or the way he constantly toys with his lip rings. Plural. There are signs up around the place stating bar rules. NO SMOKING is rule number three. You've seen his friends pass him over a vape a handful of times. Anyone else, and you'd think it was cringe. Embarrassing.

But in the midst of his laughter settling, and a fresh toke being inhaled, his eyes flicker towards yours.

Perhaps it's just because you're drunk, but you don't avert your gaze. Show no shame. The smile on his lips sinks into a smirk as he exhales. An acknowledgement. A 'hello, trouble'.

Again, any other man, you'd find the vape smoke repugnant. Nasty. Now? Watching the way he flicks his tongue against his lip rings?

You wanna know how it tastes.

Black ink weaves an intricate outline of who he is up his arms. Where he's been. Who he's been. A map, if you will, of his soul.

Much like your own tattoos, he's got thick black lines, and little else. Simple, you assume. A man of convenience. Efficiency.

You wonder if he does everything in life with the precision to match his tattoos, and as your lips wrap around the straw of your vodka-coke, you decide you'd quite like to find out.

Interrupted by Rae pulling you deeper into the crowd, your night is spent in and out of shadows. Attempt subtlety. Try not to make your occasional glances to the corner booth noticeable, just checking if his eyes are still on you. More often than not, they aren't—but sometimes they are, and that's enough to fuel your little flirt.

It's not until the sign behind the DJ booth changes from 03:00-04:00, GLOSS into some other guy that you notice your staring contest opponent has slipped into the shadows himself. The booth is void of both him and his friends. Gone.

"GLOSS has a set at another club," Rae all but yells in your ear, and even then, you barely hear her. "All the hotties left when he did. Let's go."

"Where to?!" You laugh, empty cup in hand. Admittedly, the new guy who's stepped into the DJ booth is just not doing it for you. Blu-Tae was just the right amount of unhinged with classics, whereas GLOSS was definitely cooler, but still fun. Had the club yelling curse words over trap remixes just for the fun of it. This new guy, whose name you don't care to remember, takes himself too seriously, you think.

"It's, like, two blocks down," she yells back, tugging on your wrist to drag you to the stairwell that leads you back up to the streets of Seoul. The hustle and bustle of people trying to go in different directions in the tight place forces you apart, but you figure you'll catch up with her, or that she'll be waiting at the top.

You don't know the roads well enough yet to make it to whichever club it's at alone, and quickly realise when you nearly tumble into the side of a waiting taxi that you're far drunker than expected. Knew the bartender was freepouring, but didn't realise just how free those pours really were.

"Woah, easy trouble," a deep voice sounds from behind you as you're steadied to a more stable position.

"I'm good, I'm good!" You insist, shaking off the hands of your 'saviour'. Have no interest in being a damsel in distress, or some sober guy trying to take advantage of you.

Looking down to check your laces are tied properly, you check over your shoulder to make sure the guy isn't creepily waiting for a thank you that he can turn into an intrusive game of 21 questions—'are you open-minded?' or 'do you live alone?'—but when you glance in his direction, you regret it. Notice the tattoos immediately. Recognise the eyes. Want to die.

"Oh."

"Oh," he says back with a smile, imitating you. Suddenly, the confidence you'd had earlier when looking at him from afar dissolves into nothingness, just like the alcohol in your bloodstream. You feel rather sober, but your body would definitely disagree. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," you nod, suddenly a little stuck for words, desperately trying to play things cool. "Are you okay?"

The pouting of his lips as his tongue runs along the inside of his cheek only serves to make you internally cringe. Men who look like him have no business being on streets like this. Should be in a museum. Strung up on the walls with the other masterpieces. Admired by everyone who looks his way.

In a way you don't yet realise, he is.

Though he's not in galleries, he's often burning into people's laptop screens. Is the background of a fair few thousand lock screens. Indeed, he is admired by everyone who looks his way, just not in the traditional sense.

"I'm not the one who just fell into a car," he reminds you, as if you could forget your embarrassment so quickly.

"Was just seeing if you'd catch me," you bullshit, the confidence you usually have returning tenfold. Was just a momentary blip. He's just a man, after all.

"Oh?" He chirps, decidedly curious. "So you fell for me?"

"Stumbled."

"Semantics."

His fluency, and the fact he just said 'semantics' so casually in conversation, clues you in on the fact he might be a language student, too.

Could be useful study partners for each other, you think, then mentally berate yourself for already masterminding ways to see him again.

"So, where you going?" He asks, not caring to downplay his curiosity. The bartenders were free-pouring his drinks just as severely as they poured yours. The only difference is that his were on the house—'cause you were right. He does have a recognisable face. "Should probably go with you. Make sure you don't fall into the road."

"Stumble," you insist, a little pleased with the boldness of his suggestion, but not wanting to blindly agree. "My friend," you say glancing around, only to find yourself completely alone. "She wanted to go catch the next GLOSS set. So, I guess that's where we're going."

"Just down the road," he says, knowing the schedule like the back of his hand. Bounces from club to club supporting his friends, just like they would for him. If he wanted, he could get a slot up there, too. He doesn't care for it. "I'll walk with you, if you want? My friends are heading there anyway."

It's not a bad offer.

In fact, it's probably the best offer you'll get all night.

"C'mon," he nods his head to the side, encouraging you to follow him. Checks his phone for the time. "Starts in five."

If there's one thing you've indulged in since moving to Seoul, it's how safe you always feel. Security cameras are on every corner, and you've walked home countless times without any issues, even late into the night. While the place isn't perfect, it's far safer than your home country.

Still, you're not a complete idiot.

"It's not wise to follow strange men down dark alleys," you tell him.

He holds out his hand. Waits for you to shake it. Cocks a brow when you hesitate, so introduces himself.

"Jungkook. Nice to meet you. Now, can we please hurry up? I promised I'd be there."

Narrowing your eyes, you don't shake his hand. Arms folded over your chest, there is ice to your exterior, and given how warm his eyes are, you doubt it'll last for very long. May as well keep up this hard-to-get act while you still can.

Walking on past him, you call back, "Alright then. Lead the way."

In the domed mirror meant for reversing cars at the end of a tight alley, you see him laugh. "Wrong way, idiot."

Pausing, you scrunch your face up. Don't turn to face him for at least a second or so—but when you do, you're surprised to see him walking towards you. Hooking his arm around your waist, he carries on walking in the 'wrong' direction, taking you with him.

"Was just fucking with you," he grins. Nods towards a sign by another basement entrance, listing both Blu-Tae and GLOSS.

By the door, Rae is looking around like a mother duck who's just lost some of her ducklings when crossing the road. Breathes a sigh of relief when she spots you.

"C'mon," she grins, then realises who you're with. Says nothing of it, 'cause she doesn't want to be weird, but she recognises him, too. Decides she's just had a little too much to drink. There's no way it's him. Holds out her hand for you.

Reaching out for her, you're let go from Jungkook's grip, ready to get lost in the lights once more.

HAEJANG24 WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE SATURDAY 05:53

Seoul is a city for the nocturnal. The restaurants and bars are open until the last men are standing. Given how much you've had to drink, you're surprised you still are.

Rae had dipped an hour or so ago. Had hit it off with Mr Blu-Tae himself. Seduced him with the suggestion that their couple name would be Blu-Rae. He'd said they should go to a DVD-bang. Would be fitting. See what Blu-rays were on file.

Naturally, you'd looked on with mild disgust and also admiration for how quickly she'd worked her magic. Everyone knows what goes down in DVD-bangs. Small private rooms, often with projector screens and the world's least comfortable futons, they're somewhere you hope to never end up—but also can't wait to hear all the details the next morning when Rae comes to your room for a debrief.

You'd been left under the surveillance of Jungkook.

"Look after her," Rae had instructed, then narrowed her eyes. "Or I'll destroy your reputation with a single twitter thread, Tokki."

It's a threat he's taken seriously. Knows how the internet works, and even though he's never done anything worthy of a cancellation, he also doesn't intend on starting now. The fact you seem to have no idea who he is during the daylight hours intrigues him. It's a rarity on streets like these.

Even when a few people asked for pictures with him on your walk to the hangover soup place, you didn't clock it as weird. Figured they were friends passing by, wanting to document their chance run-in. Just another memory of the night. The way Jungkook had greeted them was full of warmth, and kindness. Why wouldn't you assume they were mates?

You were also still incredibly drunk at the time, so didn't think to question it. Was keen for food, and Jungkook had insisted on hangover soup, and so that's where you are. Dishes nearly empty, far more of it eaten by him than you, you're laughing about nothing and everything all at once.

"Right," Jungkook declares, deciding he cannot hold in a question that's been tickling at his brain for the entire meal. "What the fuck is that?"

Coat left in the cloakroom, long forgotten about, your tattoos are on full display for him, just like his are for you. Up your arm they trail; a patchwork of teeny tiny identifiers. Latin phrases around skulls, birth flowers of the people you hold close, butterflies and stars. There's an ode to your favourite musician and your favourite Shakespeare quote, too. The fabric of you etched into your skin. There's no reinventing yourself, even half the world away from home.

You know precisely which tattoo Jungkook is asking about. You've asked yourself the same question a few times.

"Fuck off," you laugh.

While most of your tattoos are gorgeous, there's one that was done by a rogue artist on a girlie holiday a few years ago. What was supposed to be a seashell now looks like... well, nothing really. It's just a blob, thanks to the artist being absolutely terrible. The only solace you find in it is that your two best friends have an equally awful permanent reminder of that holiday on their bodies, too.

"It doesn't look how it's supposed to," you explain with a little pout. "I got royally screwed over."

He cocks a brow. You still haven't told him what it is. He isn't gonna ask you twice.

With a grumble, you feebly admit, "A shell."

And then he's laughing. Really laughing. Laughing so hard you think he might piss himself—which you'd actually prefer, because then he could be the embarrassed one, instead.

"I'm calling you Shelly from now on," he says with a broad smile. Has had his fair share of tattoo blunders, and knows you must've developed an affection towards how shitty it is. Would have gotten it covered up, otherwise. "That's incredible."

"You're calling me so such thing," you assure him, but you also can't help but laugh.

"I am," he tells you, then really solidifies it. "Shelly."

"Fuck off," you whine, doubling down. Scanning his arms, you try and pick out anything you can use against him, too. "If I'm Shelly, then you're Mike."

"Mike?!" He protests.

"Yeah," you insist, pointing towards the microphone on his forearm. "Mike."

"You are not calling me Mike. Do I look like a Mike?!"

"Do I look like a Shelly?!"

You've got a point. It's not the name he would have first associated with you - but it is cute, he thinks. Cute how mortified you seem. Cute how you can't help but smile.

After a little bit of back and forth, it's decided that neither of you look like your namesakes.

"Y'know, we kinda have matching tattoos," he says, holding out his arm for you to study. "Or at least, the placements."

And sure enough, below his elbow lives the outline of a bunny sitting on a crescent moon. Holding your own arm out next to his, below your elbow is a butterfly. Above it, is a teeny tiny moon.

Like Jungkook's moon, it's a crescent. Was supposed to symbolise new beginnings. You wonder what his means, but don't ask. Instead, you marvel at the coincidence of it all.

He presses his index finger against the butterfly on the inside of your forearm. The echoing chatter of the restaurant fades softly into nothingness as he says, "Nabi."

You nod. Even if you have spoken with him in English this entire time, it's nice to hear him speak in his mother tongue, no matter how minimal - so you reciprocate. Press your index finger against his bunny. Smile. Say, "Tokki."

It further confirms to Jungkook that you have no idea who he is. Has been a while since he's met a girl in a circumstance like this where that's the case. Likes the anonymity of it all. Is hiding his identity from you, and yet hasn't felt such vulnerability for years.

"Daltokki, right?" You continue, not wanting the silence to linger for too long. "The rabbit in the moon?"

You're not wrong, but you're also not entirely right.

"Yeah," he smiles regardless. "That's it."

JUNGKOOK'S APARTMENT ITAEWON-DONG, YONGSAN-GU SATURDAY 07:12

"Shhh," Jungkook quietly laughs.

His hand is over your mouth and the other is on your hip as he guides you into his apartment. With your back to his chest, you've both been giggling for the entire ride to his place.

He had insisted that he should walk you home, and was surprised by the offense you seemed to have taken by this. You then told him that he absolutely could not seduce you, and that it was very gender-role-conforming for him to think that you were incapable of getting home by yourself.

"Maybe I should be the one to make sure you get home safely," you had said with a false sense of concern, which had made him laugh quite considerably.

In all reality, you didn't mind him offering to get you home. You just hadn't tidied your room. Didn't really expect to be taking a boy back to your place, much less one that looks like him.

Together, you'd caught the early morning bus over to Itaewon instead of a taxi, 'cause you're still on a student budget and Jungkook wasn't quite ready to blow his cover just yet.

You've been teasing him—questioning his status as a potential International Super Spy—ever since he took your hand and guided you into one of the flashiest apartment complexes you've ever been in. There was security. Doormen. A passcode for the elevator—not to mention that he was heading up to the seventh floor once you were in it. Might not sound like much, but when there are only seven floors to the entire building, it makes it the penthouse by default.

"It's not a penthouse," he'd insisted. "Plus, I live with friends. Only pay a third of the rent."

But a third of his rent is more money than you'll probably see in three months of post-grad work. You're drunk, but you're not stupid. You also know that the rental market here differs significantly from your home country. Monthly rent is cheap, but the deposits are extortionate. Sure, he'll get it back when he leaves, but to have the initial money needed for a place like this? He's not a regular student, if one at all, that much is sure.

"Not sure who's home," Jungkook whispers as you both kick your shoes off in the entryway. Given the looks of the other shoes, it's clear that this is a guys-only living situation. You're proven right when he continues, "Betcha Tae's still in that damn DVD-bang, but Yoongi might be back."

"Yoongi?" You question.

"GLOSS," Jungkook says, remembering how oblivious you are to who he is. Reaching down to grab your shoes, he isn't gonna leave them by the door. Will take them to his room. Doesn't want the boys asking questions, if they are in. Knows they'll just use it as an excuse to publicly roast him whenever they're next online together.

Given that a stream is scheduled for Sunday night, he doesn't want to tempt fate.

Their current choice of wind-up, which the viewers have been eating up, is the joke that Jungkook is a virgin. He's not, but he never knows how to defend himself without sounding like a tool, so always gets a little awkward. A lot of their viewers love it. Join in on the joke. Some take it seriously. He doesn't care.

Next month, Taehyung will do something dumb, and he'll become the favourite joke for a while. Maybe Yoongi. But for now, it's Jungkook.

None of them take it to heart. They're just a group of friends who share their gaming hangouts online, and accidentally made it to the top of the ranks.

They aren't particularly good at gaming, but that's part of the charm. Crescent Collective is how they're known: Blu-Tae, GLOSS and Tokki.

After a bet went wrong, and they all lost, they ended up with moon tattoos and their respective 'symbols'. Jungkook's is a rabbit, Tae's is a blu-ray DVD disk (because he really is committed to the bit), and Yoongi's is stars to symbolise the shine of fresh gloss. Jungkook's makes the most sense. Yoongi's is pretty decent. Taehyung's is just... Well, it's very him.

Sliding open the door into the main living area, Jungkook has to cover your mouth again when you gasp at the sheer size of the place.

"I thought butterflies were supposed to be silent?" He teases. "Quiet for me, Nabi."

His place is bigger than your family home, you think. Hushing you again, he's laughing—and then he's cursing at the sight of a half-naked Yoongi by the kitchen counter.

In his boxers, with half a clementine slice hanging from his lips, he's just as shocked to see Jungkook with you. Gets over it pretty quickly.

"Don't mind me," he says, chewing down on the fruit with a smirk. Looks towards you. "Apologies for the lack of clothes."

With your shoes hooked on his fingers, Jungkook's other large hand is still over your mouth. You're not sure you can form any words as it is, but you do notice the crescent moon and stars on Yoongi's ribs.

"Not a word to Tae," is all Jungkook says. Knows that he'll be in for a world of teasing tomorrow if he gets wind of it. "I mean it."

Holding his hands up, Yoongi's still smirking, but he is backing away into a room just off the kitchen. "My lips are sealed."

Watching as he closes the door, you wonder how much truth is in his words. Jungkook knows it's absolute bullshit. Chooses not to dwell on it. Loosens his grip on you and heads towards his own room. Turns back to check you're following him, and can't help but smile when he knows that you are.

Tossing your shoes just inside the door, Jungkook is quick to pick up a pair of jeans he'd left on the floor, before chucking them over his desk chair. He tweaks his bedding. Straightens it out. Looks a little shy as he turns to face you.

"Made it home safe," he says quietly, as you close the door behind you.

You nod. Keep a little distance. Say, "It's dangerous to sleep after drinking. Make sure you build a tower of pillows in the middle of your bed so you don't roll onto your back."

Both of you are far more sober than you were earlier. There's no need to worry about anything like that.

And yet he nods, now. Says, "You're probably right. You can always stay, though. Just to check I don't die in my sleep, or whatever."

"It'd be the responsible thing to do," you nod, wondering if he can tell just how fast your heart is beating. "But I don't have any pyjamas."

Jungkook swallows. The way he looks at you now is entirely different to how he'd looked at you in the club. Back then, he'd been bold. Flirtatious.

Now, he seems vulnerable. Needy.

"I sleep in my underwear," he tells you, unsure if you'll actually be sleeping. While he likes the idea of fucking you, part of him doesn't want to. Fears it'll ruin the magic of the unknown. The way he throbs at the mere thought of it would suggest that his hopes outweigh his fears. "I don't mind, if you don't."

The clothes Jungkook's wearing are baggy. You've seen nothing of his figure.

Reaching for the nape of his neck, he tugs on the fabric of his T-shirt. Pulls it over his head and discards it in one swift movement. The sound of it crumpling on the floor is abrasive in how it makes you feel. Raw. Unrefined. You suppose it's just a natural consequence of seeing the toned muscles of his chest. How his waist defies what you thought was possible for masculine builds, and how broad his chest is. The indent of his collarbones, and the lines of his pelvis that draw your eyes downwards.

A pair of Calvins peek just above the waistband of his jeans, and a silver chain rests around his neck. Light from the city filters in, and LED lights around his impressive computer set-up paint him in a hue of violet.

"No," you manage to reply, which is a miracle, you think. "I don't mind."

And then you reciprocate. Reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, letting the fabric fall to the floor. Seeing him swallow back his nerves, or maybe his desires, makes you feel far bolder than you should.

"It's really uncomfortable to sleep in jeans," you tell him.

He nods. Agrees. Threads the button of his trousers through its loop. Doesn't take them off yet. Waits for you to do the same. Keeps his eyes firmly locked on yours. Doesn't let his gaze wander, no matter how much he has to fight all his instincts not to fully take you in. Is still pretending like he doesn't want you in the most indecent of ways.

The room you're in right now is known worldwide.

People set it as their zoom backgrounds. It's on Pinterest. There are YouTube videos attempting to recreate the set-up. If he were to power up his computer—which, in all fairness, is only on standby—and go live, there'd be a thousand viewers within minutes. Doesn't matter what he plays, or who he's with. He doesn't give it much thought anymore. Is just life.

Sometimes, he regrets not being a faceless streamer, but he also knows that it's part of the appeal. Connection, and the fantasy that comes with this almost dystopian, parasocial idea of it.

After all, the meeting of his eyes with yours across a busy club led you to this point. Human connection in the simplest of ways, that he thinks could culminate in the most complex of ways, too.

"Okay," he says. "So take them off."

"You want me to?" You ask just to tease a little bit, and when a smile flickers onto his seemingly nervous lips, you're glad you did.

"You think we'd be here right now if I didn't?" He says with a tweak of his brows.

"You've got a point."

With that, you push your jeans down and reveal the matching set of black underwear you're in. It's nothing special. In fact, it's not really a set, but it's close enough that it'd fool anyone who didn't know.

Jungkook, in this moment, is indeed a beautiful fool.

There's a lopsided grin on his face as he lets his eyes rake down your body. Is shameless as he indulges in you. Nods, as he bites down on his bottom lip.

"It's cold," you tell him, urging him along a little bit.

"Shit," he says without much thought. "Sorry. Was just... Yeah. Shit."

It's both endearing and wholly confusing how Jungkook flips from confident to cute. A man of duality. It makes you giggle, and then you're the one biting down on your bottom lip. Are both a little bashful. A little shy.

"I'm only here to make sure you don't die in your sleep," you remind him before it goes any further.

Looking at him now, knowing you want him in the worst of ways, it's testing all of your willpower not to just cut to the chase.

Thing is, you liked his company tonight. Want it again. Want to give him a reason to seek you out once more. Want him thinking about you in clubs, and looking for you in crowded bars. Pining. Yearning. Needy.

"It's already gone seven," he tells you, walking towards his bed. Knocks his head to the side. Silently tells you to follow suit. "Will probably only get a couple hours in."

"Better than nothing. Plus, you're actually really irritating," you bullshit as you get into bed with him. Are adamant you won't fuck him, but you do let him pull you in closer.

"Oh, yeah?" He grins.

"Mhmm," you nod, pretending as if you aren't looking at his lips. "You'll be less annoying when you're asleep."

"I'm never gonna sleep again," he assures you. "Will annoy you forever."

"I know where the front door is," you say as you stroke a few of his loose, wavy hairs back behind his ears. They fall freely almost right away, but it just gives you another excuse to play with it "I can just leave. I'm only here to make sure you don't die in your sleep. Pointless if you're awake."

"So I have to be asleep for you to stay?"

"Mhmm," you hum.

He immediately loosens his grip on you and flops into an overdramatic sleeping position. Fake snores. Gets you giggling. Can't hide his smile, either. Laughs through the god-awful noises he's making.

But it is late, and you're both tired. As much as he'd like to stay awake with you, the pull of sleep is just too tempting now that you're beneath his sheets. It's not like he doesn't wanna fuck you. His semi is very much present, but neither of you mention it.

"Y'know what's sad about butterflies?" Jungkook mumbles after the laughter dies down. He carefully begins to trace the lines of your tattoo, eyes entirely focused on the tip of his finger.

You purr a response before you fully vocalise one. "Tell me."

He glances up at you only very momentarily. Looks back down. Is quiet when he says, "How quickly they die. Spend over half their lifespan growing into these beautiful creatures, and then they have, what—A week? Two? Three, tops—and then they're gone. It's like the cherry blossoms in spring. Beautiful, and then—" He clicks his fingers. "—gone."

Stroking back some loose strands of his hair, you wonder if he's thinking about you. About this chance encounter. Beautiful, then gone.

"Just means you have to appreciate them while they're still around," you say softly. "Cherish them, because you know you only have them for a moment."

His gaze lifts to meet yours. The reflection of his LED lights makes it seem like butterflies are floating around in his deep, dark eyes, too.

There are stories he could tell you of ancient folklore; about human souls taking the form of butterflies. Of justice, and peace, and spirits. Of back in time, when tigers still smoked. He could tell you of his favourite butterflies. Of the black butterflies that are as large as his hands in the summer. Of the huge display in a museum downtown that would transfix him as a child.

Instead, he gently presses his lips against the lines of your butterfly tattoo.

The rate at which your heart is beating multiplies. Like a swarm of butterflies chasing through your veins, you've no control over the way you're feeling. He's brought your artwork to life; set the souls inside of your butterfly free, only for it to be apparent that the souls belonged to the both of you, anyway.

You know that this is one of those moments; a butterfly passing on by through your lives. Here, and then gone. Beautiful, but fleeting.

There's a shyness to Jungkook now, as he rolls onto his back. A reluctance to get things wrong. He doesn't look at you, just nibbles on his bottom lip and pretends as if the empty white ceiling ahead of him is the most interesting thing he's seen all night.

It's not.

You are.

You, and those eyes that make him feel like the butterfly on your arm is tickling at his tummy. He finds himself jealous when he faces you again and begins tracing the thin lines of your butterfly once more. Wants to embed himself into you like the ink that's carved out a home in your skin.

"Sorry," he mumbles, seemingly regretful of the tender kiss he'd pressed against your arm just a short moment ago. "Don't know why I did that."

"It's okay," you reply without much thought. Like him, you're letting the way you feel dictate the words you say. Care not for playing coy. "I liked it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Jungkook wants to stop his mouth from letting his desires escape. The issue is, he drank a little too much tonight and his lips are a little too loose. Too bad. Can't help himself from asking, "Can I do it again?"

You're just as bad.

"Yeah," you whisper. "Please."

The way his lashes splay against his cheeks as he presses another kiss to your arm is nothing short of celestial. Like that damn moon on his arm, he's got a beauty about him that's hard to capture in words. Ethereal feels too fantastical, but gorgeous feels too dense. He resides in a realm somewhere between the two. Somewhere you'd like to stay forever.

Forever, sadly, only lasts a few hours. You've brunch plans with new friends you can't bail on yet for fear of running a friendship before it's even begun.

You see yourself out. Jungkook's still asleep. Not quite 10AM, you've a dozen missed calls from Rae, and a cold can of coke waiting for you in your fridge. Funnily enough, though, you don't really feel hungover. Must have gotten it all out of your system the night before.

It's only fitting, when you think about Jungkook on the subway home, and how soberingly drunk the idea of him makes you feel.

YONSEI UNIVERSITY DORMS DAESIN-DONG, SEODAEMUN-GU SUNDAY 21:39

Brunch had, predictably, been a yawn-fest.

The people were perfectly nice, but you spent the entire time thinking about Jungkook; how you'd left him in a pretty slumber, the LEDs behind his computer still glowing, with not even so much as a note to say thank you.

It's not like he had any paper on his desk, and you weren't about to start rummaging around his room. You also didn't want to wake him. Part of it was because you knew you'd be saying goodbye, and the concept of that was one that you didn't like all that much.

And so your subway ride back to your dorm had been spent searching his name. He didn't take long to find.

From the club's Instagram, you found GLOSS and quickly discovered that there was far more to both him and Blu-Tae than just being DJs. Their follower counts were wild. Numbers you know you'll never see on your own account. Verification check marks accented their display names.

Who are you? You'd thought to yourself, incredibly perplexed by it all.

Jungkook was littered all over their pages, and yet it still took a while for you to click through to his account. You're not sure why, but think that perhaps the unknown was a nice place to reside within. Safer.

CR3SC3NT_T0KK1 was his username—and curiously, Tokki was also his display name. Brows furrowed, you'd almost dropped your phone when you saw his follower count. It eclipsed both of his friends.

Filled with gaming set-ups, merch drops, and general life dumps, it was pretty clear that whoever Jungkook had made himself out to be the night before was not who he was in real life.

Equal parts offended and intrigued, you were only more confused when you saw that Rae was already following him—but not following Taehyung.

"What?" she'd beamed when you'd asked her about it after you'd arrived home from brunch, a scoop of hangover ice cream being waved around in the air with her flamboyant gestures. "He's, like, one of the biggest streamers in the country—and if I want to keep Tae obsessed with me, we need as many connections as possible. Jungkook's a frog to me, baby, not a prince. Don't you worry your little cotton socks. I'm not after him."

"I wouldn't care if you were," you'd blatantly lied in response, and then you'd giggled together at how ridiculous you were both being over boys you didn't really know.

Hovering over the bright purple 'JOIN STREAM' button later that evening, part of you holds back. Think it'd be weird. Strange. That he'd somehow know it was you.

Dipping your mouse, you tick the checkbox to join as an anonymous viewer. Take a breath. Think fuck it. Watch with bated breath as the loading wheel turns—and then he's there.

Jeon Jungkook has the kind of beauty that transcends shitty quality streams. Smiling as he jokes with one of his friends through a headset with a pair of black bunny ears affixed to the top of them, you hear a voice you almost recognise. Notice the friend he's streaming with in the top corner. Realise you do know him, too.

Hair as blue as the trees are green, Tae has just as much boyish charm as Jungkook, but also an incredibly large hickey that seems to match the ones on Rae's neck.

"Nah, can we get an L in the chat for Kook," he's teasing. Sure enough, the chat begins to explode with the letter, and Jungkook looks so pretty when he protests.

"It's not an L!"

"It is!" Tae insists. "Should have seen him, guys. Was following this girl around like a lovesick puppy—"

"No, I wasn't!"

"And she didn't even give him her number. Not even her name!"

"That's not true!" Jungkook whines. He switches between Korean and English with ease, sometimes just single words, other times whole sentences. "I have a name."

"What is it?"

"Not telling you."

"Cause you don't have one!"

"No, because you'll all make my life a living hell," Jungkook laughs—and then notices a bright blue comment lighting up in the chat. His eyes widen. "Fuck."

GLOSS: Was calling her Nabi when he got home last night Almost shit his pants when he saw me

"Yoongi, I'm gonna shave your eyebrows off in your sleep," Jungkook growls—only for the chat to start spamming butterfly emojis. Closing his eyes, he leans back in his chair, the still paused video game long forgotten about, now. Thousands of people are in their chat, and even more are watching the stream.

"Guys, get it trending," Taehyung goads. "Tweet, I dunno, bunny and butterfly emojis."

"Don't do that!"

"Hashtag find Jungkook's butterfly."

"Do NOT do that!"

"I'm like a modern-day cupid," Taehyung beams.

"I'm shaving your eyebrows, too."

Closing the stream, you sit for a moment, mouth ajar, unable to process what on earth you've just witnessed. Part of you feels as if it must have an incredibly vivid daydream; a projection of your heart's desire.

And you know you shouldn't, but when you get home from running errands the following day, you join the stream again. Blush when you notice the chat is still teasing Jungkook.

"I'm gonna block you all," he threatens them with a grin, which only encourages them to send even more butterfly emojis.

The next day is no different, nor the day after that.

He is, though. Has been letting it all play on his mind. Doesn't have much of a filter when it comes to streaming.

"What if she didn't even like me, guys," he whines to the chat. "And sees this and is like... mortified. I think I'd punch myself in the face if she ever saw any of this."

You toy with the idea of sending a comment into the chat. Something that only he'd realise was you. Thing is, you feel bad for intruding. As if you shouldn't be prying. As if you're eavesdropping on him chatting with friends, and not on the stream he's broadcasting live around the world.

Typing out a message, you deliberate your choice.

Punch urself in the face pls, tokki x the message reads.

Simple. Effective. To the point.

But everyone calls him that, you stupidly realise, now.

And so you change the name to 'Mike'.

Before you can even really realise what you've done, you've pressed send.

The message flitters into the chat feed. He's about to resume his game. Doesn't notice it at first.

Gives the chat one final glance, and then his eyes widen. He sits up taller. Straighter. "Mike?"

You close the lid of your laptop immediately.

"Fuck."

THE STREETS WAUSAN-RO, HONGDAE FRIDAY 23:51

"Tae is on in five," Rae squeals, dragging you down the road at lightning speed.

You'd spent far too long at dinner, and also had far too much to drink with your food, so have been forced to make an undignified sprint to the club in an attempt to make it in before the place reaches capacity.

There's already a queue. You can see it from a mile away.

Realistically, Rae could have gotten Taehyung to add her to the guest list. He'd offered. She didn't wanna look needy, so had played it coy about her plans for the evening.

After a single beer and soju, she'd decided that the idea of him hooking up with anyone but her simply wouldn't do.

"Shit," she sighs in defeat, looking at the queue. The direction you've come from means that you reach the entrance before you reach the queue, but even then, you can tell it goes around the block. "Are there no other clubs these people can go to?!"

There are—but this club is rammed tonight for the same reason Club Sundown was rammed the week before. People want to see the Crescent Collective.

You didn't realise it at the time, but you'd bypassed the queue of the second club last weekend because Jungkook had been with you.

And as if by a stroke of luck, or perhaps a twist of fate, the same tattooed hand that had held you as you slept last weekend is now putting out a cigarette just a few steps away.

Eyes landing on yours, he looks away again, almost immediately. Feels embarrassed. Stupid. For the way you left him, and also for the way he knows you must know who he is, now.

Behind a red rope, he's away from the general crowd. It's sort of obnoxious, you think—but also know Jungkook is anything but.

"They're with me," Jungkook says to the bouncer, not really looking at you, but nodding in your general direction. Is deliberately keeping a little distance. Instead, he says to Rae, "Tae wouldn't want you waiting in line."

Nodding, the security guard makes way for you, stamping the backs of your hands with UV-activated ink as you walk past.

"Thank you!" Rae beams.

"No worries," Jungkook smiles right back. "He's about to start. Was just getting air. You're lucky you arrived when you did."

"Angel," she praises. "I'll get you a drink while we're in there."

You know her well enough now to know that she absolutely will not, but you don't say anything. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest as you walk, suddenly feeling all awkward in Jungkook's presence.

"Nabi," he curtly greets you as you head down the stairs.

"Tokki," you greet him back just as formally. Consider calling him 'Mike' instead, but you chicken out.

Face scrunching up, Jungkook tries his best not to cringe at himself. Doesn't know if you're addressing him by his tattoo moniker, or just calling him Tokki because you know it's his identifier online.

"How have you been?" He asks, not wanting to let it simmer.

"Alright," you say, aware of how awkward this all feels, as you descend the stairs and into the club. The music is getting louder, and soon you won't be able to hear him talk unless you're in each other's ears. "And you?"

"Alright."

Just as quickly as he appeared, Jungkook is lost to the crowd.

He doesn't care to stick around if he's just going to be hung out to dry by you again. He tells himself that he only made sure you got in to keep Rae happy for Taehyung's sake—yet as he rejoins his friends in their booth, he finds himself desperately seeking you out again.

It takes him a while, but he eventually spots you by the bar in conversation with Rae. He can't make out what you're saying, but notices how your eyes are flickering around the room. Seems as if you're hunting for something.

Deep down, even if he pretends like he doesn't, he hopes it's for him.

Pulled away from your search by the bartender passing over drinks to the pair of you, Jungkook feels bad. Knows the drinks are pricey in this place. Also knows, from the conversations you've already had, that you're on a tight budget. Had said that once the semester starts, you'll stop going to parties. Are seemingly unaware of the fact the parties never stop in this city. You'll learn.

When your eyes finally land on his a little while later, you're surprised by his intense gaze—intrigued by his lack of shame for being caught out. He doesn't look away or appear embarrassed. If anything, it's quite the opposite.

Girls are vying for his attention all around him, yet you receive all of it. Half the room away, hundreds of people create a sea between you both. Jungkook thinks he'd swim through it, no matter how choppy the water, if it meant he could have you right now.

You're the one who left, though.

It's up to you to come back.

Part of you doesn't want to, but then you see another girl making advances, and Rae's horror over other girls trying it on with Taehyung seems to have rubbed off on you. The idea of it makes your skin crawl. You're drunk, and a little reactive, but Jungkook likes playing with fire.

As you work your way through the crowd towards him, he tries his best not to grin. Finds himself vindicated in his desire to be close to you, 'cause it seems like you want it, too.

Sliding in between Jungkook and the girl, you turn and apologise.

"Just need to borrow him for a second," you smile, clutching at his shirt and pulling him away from the booth before she even has a chance to protest.

With an ever-so-satisfied smirk, Jungkook shrugs towards the other girl, and lets you drag him wherever you want. He's putty in your hands, a little tipsy and desperately in need of attention from you.

For the past week, he's played scenario over scenario over scenario in his head about this moment, and now that it's happening, he's glad he let you seek him out. Is so pleased that you actively want him just as much as he wants you.

In the middle of the crowd, you're hidden from prying eyes. It's too dark to notice any discerning features of the people around you, yet somehow, Jungkook seems like a vibrant golden light to you. Impossible to miss. Unable to ignore.

You wanna talk. Ask him about who the fuck he is. Explain that you didn't mean to leave so heartlessly.

Taehyung's set is so overwhelmingly loud, though. Can barely even hear yourself think.

As soon as he'd spotted Rae in the crowd, Taehyung had sent the bar coordinator to go and get her. She's sitting pretty up in the DJ booth, incredibly pleased with herself. Notices you and Jungkook almost immediately. Knows it'll be on Twitter in the next few hours, especially if that damn butterfly tattoo of yours is noticed.

Bunnies and butterflies have been trending for days.

Jungkook speaks, but you can't hear him.

"Huh?" You ask, getting on your tippy toes, but it's fruitless. Even as his hand drops to your waist to steady you and keep you in place, you can barely make out his words. "I can't hear you!"

He can't hear jack shit, either. Frowns. Looks around. Spots Yoongi by the booth and gestures towards the side of the room. When Yoongi nods back, it's Jungkook who drags you through the crowd, now. Just beyond the DJ booth is a little black door that Yoongi meets you by. Taps in the code. Nods in your direction.

"A pleasure," he says with a knowing smirk. Miraculously, you can hear him, but ultimately, it's because you're not in the direct line of the speakers now.

You don't get a chance to respond before Jungkook gets you into what can only described as a dark hole as quickly as he can. Romance, you think to yourself, but you also are very aware of the fact Jungkook doesn't let go of your hand, even when he's searching for the light switch. It takes him a second, but he manages to recall the approximate location quickly enough.

Dingy yellow light floods into the room. Small and boxy, it's a 3-in-1 storage room, bathroom, and dressing room for 'talent'. It's why Yoongi had the code, but you can't imagine anyone with any shred of self-respect actually using this place. The walls are the same grey tiles as the floor, and the light bulb hangs from a wire without a shade. The tap on the sink drips, and you're pretty sure there's a leak in the far corner by the mirror.

None of that matters, though. All you can focus on is the man in front of you. Though not soundproof, the room does offer a far more muted version of Taehyung's set. More importantly, it provides you with privacy.

It's been a week since you last saw him, face to face.

Though you have, admittedly, seen him what feels like a million times on low-quality streams from his bedroom.

Realistically, it's been about three times, but you think about it almost constantly.

"You left," is all he says, a little pout on his lips.

It's cute, you think, that he is so outwardly offended by such an act. You would have thought that a man of his position would have a habit of leaving, himself. Then again, you didn't know of his status when you left him in bed that morning.

"And you didn't die," you reply with a teasing smile, trying not to make it sound so severe. "You were fine without me."

"I'm not joking," he says, even if he can't help but smile at the recollection of how stupid the conversation before bed had been. "You left. It was rude."

"I had brunch plans," you tell him, reaching your hands out for his. He wants to resist. Fails. Lets you pull him closer. Incredibly close, in fact. So close that you begin to notice all sorts of things. His freckles. A small scar on his cheek. A tiny fleck of glitter on his skin, no doubt from one of the girls who had been desperate for his attention earlier. "You'd only had a few hours sleep. I didn't want to disturb you."

"Could have left a note," he says, still pouty but far quieter. You can smell the Jack on his breath. Have always hated the taste, but think you could grow to like it. "Your number. Something, at least."

"I could've," you admit, edging even closer. Closing the gap. Nudging your nose against his. But then you smile. Pull back. Tease, "And you could have warned me that I'd become a trending topic on Twitter."

Just like that, Jungkook's pout snaps into the prettiest smile. His face scrunches up, lines creasing on his nose. Beneath his closed eyes reside the sweetest little puffs. He's got the kind of face that is impossible not to like.

"Ah," he cringes.

"Yeah," you laugh at the stupidity of it all. What did he expect? That you wouldn't find out? "Ah."

"In my defence," he holds his hands up, eyes wide and innocent. "You called me Tokki. How was I to know you didn't know?"

"Oh, give over," you laugh, as he reaches for your hands once again. Pulls you closer. "You know I didn't know."

Truthfully, he does know this, but it was nice to be unknown for a little while. Nice to not second guess your intentions. Even now, knowing that you know, he feels like none of it matters.

"Look," he begins, toying with the hem of your cropped shirt. Lets his fingertips graze your bare skin. Tries his best not to think about what you look like half-naked. Fails. "I only came out tonight 'cause I hoped I'd see you. I don't care about staying out till ass-o'clock, again."

"Think I've only just caught up on sleep," you hum, angling your chin up and giving him the perfect opportunity to make a move that goes beyond flirtatious touches.

"Exactly," he smiles, letting his hand squeeze the side of your waist. Pulls you closer. "And I've not drunk half as much tonight, but I think I could do with you making sure I don't die, again."

"Yeah?"

Nodding as he nudges his nose against yours, Jungkook is all smiles. Lets his lips line up against your pout.

"Yeah," he mumbles—then lets the word get lost in your lips.

Sinking into what it feels like to kiss you, Jungkook can't help but feel satisfaction. Has finally caught the damn butterfly he's been after all week.

He's played a lot of games. Won a lot of battles.

And yet victory has never tasted so sweet.

JUNGKOOK'S APARTMENT ITAEWON-DONG, YONGSAN-GU SATURDAY 02:07

You retrace your steps. Get a taxi to his place, 'cause there's no point pretending like he can't afford it. Not anymore.

You're not giggling like you were the first time you were in his elevator, but it's kind of impossible to do so when your back is to the wall and Jungkook's tongue is in your mouth.

Your hands roam his body—waist, ass. If you can squeeze it, you will. Just makes him deepen the kisses. If his large hands weren't cupping your jaw, keeping you close, they'd be doing the exact same thing as yours.

The ding of the elevator pulls you apart just for a second, and then you're the one pulling him down to the corridor to his place.

He doesn't open the door. Just kisses you again.

Finally understands what it means to get butterflies, 'cause he's got you, now, and he never wants to lose it.

Hooking his hands beneath your ass, he hoists you up. Gets your legs wrapped around him. Could go in, but where's the fun in that? There's a slight danger of getting caught. He knows the hallway security cameras will definitely pick this up. The threat that it could get leaked online, and the simple fact that he couldn't give a shit if it does, is kind of hot.

"I'm not fucking you out here," you tell him through a hushed giggle, when he rests his forehead against yours.

"Woah," he jokes. "Who said anything about fucking?"

"I can literally feel your boner, Jungkook."

"Touché."

He doesn't even attempt to downplay it. He puts you down. Gets you through the threshold of his apartment. Shoes off by the door, there's no need to be quiet. Yoongi and Taehyung are still out, and will be for hours. He could take his time if he really wanted.

But what he wants is you. Doesn't waste time. Gets you in his room. Kinda feels like you never left. Jungkook still wishes you hadn't, but doesn't mind the idea of you making it up to him now.

"So," you hum, trailing your fingertips across his desk. "This is where the magic happens?"

He smiles a little bashfully, head dropping for a moment before his eyes are on yours again. "Yeah. You could say that."

Now that you're back in his space, it's a little embarrassing just how many clues there were. A headset rests on the desk—black, robust, with his signature bunny ears secured on top—and a mic is hooked up by the monitor. The webcam doesn't look special, but the keyboard subtly glows in his darkened room. Violet, like the LEDs behind his screen.

A laptop covered in vinyl stickers is closed next to the set-up. He uses it when he's not streaming on his desktop. At least three of the stickers are of the Crescent Collective's logo.

Turning to fully face him, you rest your palms behind yourself and perch on the edge of the desk.

He gets a little kick out of seeing you so flippantly disregard the domain in which he dominates. Gives him a point to prove. Gets him closing the space between you, hands on your waist, dipping to your ass to leverage further back on his desk. Knows it's sturdy, 'cause he built it himself, but has never tested out quite how strong it really is. Thinks now's as good a time as any to find out.

Your legs wrap around his body with no thought, just the innate understanding that you want him in a way you're sure thousands of people have only dreamt of: in his room, on his desk, that damn 'Go Live' button just a few short clicks away.

Reaching beside you, there's a smirk on your lips as you retrieve his headset. Put it on him. Say, "The ears are cute, Tokki."

He rolls his eyes. Is fighting a smile, and currently losing. He's seen some lewd shit during his time on the internet and is well aware of the fanart that includes the ears and little else. Always found it kinda funny, before.

Now? He's so hard it almost hurts, and he thinks he could grow to like it.

As your arms drape over his shoulders, he takes them off. Puts them on you, instead. Adjusts the sizing. Gets them just right for you. Is attentive, like that. Pulls his head back a little, and then realises what a problem you're gonna be for him.

It's not so much the addition of animal ears that's getting him insatiable, but seeing you adorned with a crown that is so inherently his that does it.

Jungkook's no saint. He's had his fair share of one-nighters. A couple hours of fun never to be spoken of again. Since the group of them signed to their management agency, they've been repeatedly told how important it is to get NDA's signed. Something about it always feels so icky to Jungkook. Cruel, almost. Has only had a couple hook-ups since then, both with flings he's known for a good couple of years, with no fear of them spilling the beans on how prettily he whines when he cums.

You're the first new girl in a long time. He knows he should really pause things before you cut to the chase—but then your hand is trailing down his thick forearm, delicately stroking his rabbit moon with a curious smile. Decides he doesn't care.

"The ears are cute," he replies. Teasingly adds, "Nabi."

The position of your arms over his shoulders ensures the tattoos he'd traced the week before are fully displayed for him. As his eyes drop to your butterfly, you're curiously smitten by the way his lips move to press a kiss against it again.

"Suit me?"

"Mhmm," he hums, eyes flickering back up to yours. "Should also get you a pair of butterfly wings, or something."

"I'd make you wear them," you tell him with a cheeky glint in your eye. "Turn you into a butterfly, yourself. Your girlies in the chat would love that."

Jungkook knows without a shadow of a doubt he'd let you. Not for the girlies in the chat, but for you.

Ghosting his lips against yours, he's waiting for you to press down. Is letting you take the lead.

Your kisses are sweet. Tepid. Reserved.

You're feeling; his hands on your waist, the pressure of his lip rings, the presence of his nose.

And then he's feeling; your bare skin as his large hands slip beneath the fabric of your shirt, the way your legs wrap around him, the vibration of a small groan against his lips.

The skirt you're in is bunched around your hips, and the positioning is just right for you to feel how hard he is against your underwear. It's a little undignified, you'll admit, but you're impatient, so you take control. Reposition his hand between your legs. Encourage him to take things further.

"Yeah?" He checks.

Nodding into a needy kiss, you mumble, "Please."

It might've been a while, but Jungkook's muscle memory is enviable. He's the best player on the team for that very reason.

As he hooks your underwear to the side, he's pleased to be greeted with indications of your arousal. Smirks into the kisses he's giving you, as his fingertips graze against your clit. Trails his lips to your neck. Wants to hear the way you gasp as he pushes his thick middle finger inside you.

"Fuck," you sigh at the welcome intrusion. Nod, as he curls his finger almost immediately. He's got a lot to thank those damn video games for, that's for sure.

Softly moaning, just how he hoped you would, there's an arch to your back as he picks up a pace. The need to perform, almost.

Head tipping back as Jungkook fucks another finger into you, you're unable to think too cognitively. Can only think about the way he feels. The smell of his hair as he presses kisses against your neck, and how prominent his collarbones are as your nails trail up his toned torso.

"Feels so good," you tell him. Move the hand of yours that's been resting on his shoulder to his hair. Tug on it a little. Elicit the prettiest of whines from him.

There's something to be said for making a man—especially one of such strength, stature, status—so weak. Gets you all giggly. Jungkook can feel the satisfaction ripple through your entire body, and it just makes him groan against your neck even more.

"You're so wet," he praises, pulling back to study your face as he plays with you. Lets his thumb stroke up against your clit ever so gently. Revels in the way you get a little shaky. Twitchy. With those damn bunny ears, you really are like a little rabbit. Jungkook finally understands why the fan artists choose to draw him in such a way. It is hot. "You're making me so fuckin' hard."

And then you're giggling again.

"Is it a joke to you, huh?" He smirks. Looks down at your pussy, all swollen and sopping wet for him, in the hazy violet light of his room. Knows that his throbbing cock is gonna stuff you so fuckin' full that laughing won't be an option. Is desperate for it. "How badly I want you is just a big joke to you, huh, bunny?"

The way he groups you in with his moniker is too damn hot.

"Dunno," you rasp, desperately trying to hold off the orgasm that's building inside you. "Fuck me and find out."

Reaching for the button of his trousers, you're quick as you wrestle his jeans down over his ass. Don't bother pushing them down entirely. Just enough to get his boxers exposed, and in turn, his thick cock. Hard and engorged, his desperation for you is evident. A small patch of precum seeps through the fabric of his boxers. He curses as your thumb strokes against it.

"Condom?" You ask, knowing you've got none on you.

"Hold that thought," he says, regretfully pulling away from you.

Watching on as he pushes down his jeans, and strips himself of his shirt, you're at a loss for words. You've seen him like this before, but it's so much hotter knowing that he's gonna be fucking himself into you as soon as he possibly can.

Jungkook could very easily lead you to his bed. Get you comfy. Reach to his bedside cabinet for a condom. Fuck you how he likes—doggy-style, minimal face-to-face contact—and be done with it all very quickly.

Instead, he says, "Stay here."

Doing as you're told, you watch on as he walks to the cabinet, and retrieves a condom. Admire his back, and his broad shoulders. The valley of his spine, and the hard work he's put into crafting his physique. Smirk to yourself as he dips into his boxers. Strokes himself. Once, twice. Tears the packet open with his teeth, just like you were always taught not to do, and rolls the latex down his thick shaft.

"What?" he smirks as he walks back, realising your eyes are transfixed on his cock.

You say nothing. Smile. Hold your hands out for Jungkook to take, just so you can pull him back even quicker.

Lips pressing into yours as he closes the gap, Jungkook is all smiles. Rubs the head of his cock against your pussy, gathering up your arousal all over his tip. Lines himself up with your entrance. Waits for you to give him the go-ahead.

Hand on his ass, you pull him closer. Edge the crown of his cock into you. Whimper. Beg. "Please."

Sinking into you with a laboured grunt, he's surprised with how much tighter you are around his cock than you were with his fingers. Wet and warm, there's an undeniable pleasure that sparks through his body as he gets familiar with the way you feel.

Slowly, his hips begin to pick up a pace. As his tongue strokes into your mouth, there's no dignity to the way he's taking you. The increased pace means heightened moans, and it's not just you—it's him, too.

"Shit, yeah," he grits. "So fuckin' tight, aren't you?"

Whining, you nod into his kisses. Are at his entire disposal as he grips your waist, proving exactly why Tokki is the perfect nickname for him.

As much as he likes the ears, he's a little worried that he might fuck you so hard they fall off. Doesn't wanna break them, and definitely doesn't wanna think about the story the boys would make up when they go live tomorrow to tease him—but also really wants to fuck you harder.

Which is funny, cause the way he tugs them off with such desperation and tosses them down, you'd be forgiven for thinking he couldn't care less about breaking them. Doesn't give you a chance to say anything, 'cause his big hands are cradling your face, bringing you in for desperate kisses once more.

There's a lewdness to the sounds you make together, but Jungkook knows that if he was an entirely different kind of streamer, you'd make bank together. Wonders about the way it would look on camera. Worries. Pauses.

"You good?" You check a little breathlessly as he reaches behind you, just to tug the wire to his webcam from the plus.

"Yeah," he nods, still fiddling around behind you. Smiles in the hedonistic haze as your lips find a new home on his neck. Strokes your hair gently, and presses a kiss to the side of your head. Quietly says, "Just making sure there's no way in hell I accidentally start streaming."

You hum, all purry and pliant. "People would pay good money to see it."

While he agrees, and has had the same thought process, he doesn't care. "You saying I should be charging you for this?"

"Oh, no," you say all very sweetly. "You should be paying me."

"I'll pay you with orgasms," he promises, knowing that it's a rare currency for one-night strands.

You smirk. Pat the top of his head. "Sure you will."

If there's one thing Jungkook loves, it's a challenge.

Pulling back, he turns you around. Gets you bent over his desk with zero opposition from you. Rubs himself against your soaked cunt, then asks, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you smirk, and then settle into a sigh as he pushes into you. The feeling of fullness from Jungkook is one that's hard to compare. So thick, and fat, and heavy, his cock really is just as impressive as he is.

With one hand hooked at the crease of your thigh, the other holds the top of your shoulder. Gets you pushed down onto his cock as far as you possibly can be. There's a slight reflection in his streaming plaque beside the monitor, and you're pleased to see just how intensely focused he is on you, brows furrowed, pretty pink lips resting ajar. The silver of his lip rings and chain catch in the light, and you find you can't look at him for too long. He's too hot.

But then he's reaching down for your clit as he fucks into you. Has your legs shaking. The waves of a familiar sensation begin to lap against the shores of your pleasure.

"Fuck," you whine. "Feels good. Keep it like that."

Jungkook knows better than to ignore your requests. Does as he's told, the pressure of his fingers on your clit only deepening. Rubbing calculated circles against you, he knows just how to work you up. Gets you whining. Mewling. Moaning.

"Gonna cum, aren't you?" he smirks, as his own high builds.

"Fuck—"

"C'mon," he husks, feeling your walls tighten around him. He doesn't stop his relentless chase. Will win your orgasms fair and square. Continues pounding into you. Pace fast, strokes deep, he's everything you could ever want and more—and then he's slowing. Keeping you plugged, nice and deep, but focusing on the way he's toying with your clit. "You know you wanna cream for me. All over my cock, pretty Nabi. C'mon—"

"I'm close," you all but whimper. "So—fuck. So close."

"Yeah, you are," he tells you—and then your legs are shaking, pussy tightly clamping around his cock, one hand tense against his desk while the other grabs at his wrist. Uncontrollable, is the way you whine for him. It's so needy—so desperate and pathetic—that it's almost a sob. Jungkook doesn't ease up. In fact, his hips gain a little pace again as your orgasm shatters around you both. He's breathless, but manages to choke out, "Flithy fuckin' cunt. Feels so fuckin' good. Fuck."

The frail limpness of your body as the orgasm smokes away is cute. Jungkook loves it. You're so weak for him. He fucks into you still, chasing his own high, and your whines only get louder. It's overwhelming, but you never want to lose the feeling.

It doesn't take much. Just a minute or so of your tight cunt, and Jungkook is pulling out. Even though he doesn't ask you to, you get to your knees as he tears the condom off.

"In my mouth," you beg, and who is he to reject such an offer?

Jerking himself to completion, Jungkook is all pretty and pathetic when he cums, too. Looks at you with eyes so starry you'd been forgiven for thinking he was a descendant of the constellations.

He milks the final few spurts of himself onto your wet tongue, and curses when you press dainty kisses to his tip. Stroking your tongue against him, you don't want to waste a drop. Look up at him and find that his eyes are resting shut from the pleasure of it all.

Silence surrounds you both, just your beating hearts and laboured breaths filling to the room. He helps you up. Holds you tight. Hugs you for a little while, then presses a kiss to the side of your head. "Thanks."

"My pleasure," you giggle - and then he's smiling, too. Feels vindicated by his irrational thoughts about you over the last few days. He pays no mind to the fact you're still technically dressed, and he's basically naked.

As he sorts himself out, you perch back up on his desk and languidly swing your legs. Enjoy the thought of memories plaguing him whenever he tried to play his little games over the next few days.

"You wanna grab a shower?" he offers. "Food, too? Dunno about you, but I'm fuckin' starving."

"Same," you nod, biting down on your bottom lip. "I'll go wash up, you sort food? Are places still open for delivery?"

Checking his phone for the time, Jungkook is surprised that it's closer to midnight than it is to his morning alarm. Only a handful of places will offer delivery at this time, but that's enough.

"Works for me," he says with a yawn, then opens what you had assumed was the closet door. Reveals an en-suite and knocks his head to the side. "Get your shower. Gimmie a shout if you need anything."

Tiles large and grey, it's the perfect counterpart to his bedroom. A little dark, but it's only because Jungkook hates using the big light. Always flicks the small light switches instead. There's a window overlooking the city, and even though you're only seven floors up, the hills of Yongsan-gu mean that he's got a view you could only dream of.

You're about to start the shower up when he calls through. "Is pizza good?"

"Pizza's good," you call back with a smile. Look yourself in the mirror and wonder how the fuck you ended up in the bathroom of arguably the most famous person you've ever met. Decide it's better not to question it.

The shower begins to cascade down, even if your sins are washed way, you know you won't be able to forget the feeling of Jungkook so easily.

Truth be told, you won't even try.

YONSEI UNIVERSITY DORMS DAESIN-DONG, SEODAEMUN-GU SUNDAY 21:13

"L in the chat," booms the voice of Taehyung through your laptop speakers. His trademark grin rests on his face as he teases Jungkook.

You've only just opened the stream. Instantly, you focus on the prettily lopsided smirk of Jungkook's lips. You've learned it's an almost permanent fixture on his boyish face. Shaking his head, he's adjusting his headset. Making it a little looser so that it'll fit him properly.

No one is questioning it.

What they are questioning, is where the fuck that pretty purple bruise on his neck has come from.

"Cross-fit," Jungkook just shrugs, knowing that it's the colloquial term for suspicious bruises after some idol used the same excuse. Blatant horseshit. Jungkook doesn't care.

"I've never done cross-fit, but I know you're bullshitting," Taehyung snorts.

The chat seems to agree with him.

"Thought I was a virgin?" Jungkook states a little cheekily, making reference to Taehyung's usual banter. "How else would I get one?"

Taehyung knows better than the retort. Knows that Jungkook could very easily slip something about Rae into the conversation.

Virgin? You type through a message on a private discord chat with Jungkook. He'd set it up the day before. Has already sent you, like, a thousand messages. Is what can only be described as obsessed—but it's mutual. Could have fooled me.

As his eyes glance down to his laptop screen, he fails to hide his smile. Had opened your chat on there, cause he didn't wanna accidentally broadcast the messages onto his stream. Despite this, he doesn't care that there are nearly 10,000 people in his stream merely minutes into it. Is far more interested in his chat thread with you. Replies immediately.

Stop distracting meI'm working</3

Giggling as the message pings through to you, there's a giddy quality to the way Jungkook makes you feel.

He'd spent the day in bed with you after your night together. Had wanted you to stay when he started streaming that evening. Said he'd only be an hour or so, and was incredibly pouty when you did leave.

It had just been him on last night's stream—headset off 'cause he didn't wanna adjust it back yet, hoodie on to hide his neck. The other boys were nursing hangovers, so he could do what he liked.

What he did do had you incredibly curious. Was just chatting. Talking to the comment section. Sleepily reeling off facts he'd recently learned about butterflies. Debating over their lifespan.

You're not naive to the fact that Jungkook does this streaming stuff as a profession, and are aware that the more people talking about his stream on other platforms, the more viewers he'll get.

Made sense for him to add fuel to the butterfly-related fire by talking about them.

Had sent you a message earlier that evening to ask what kind of butterfly you had on your skin.

A Monarch, you'd told him.

"See, the thing is," Jungkook had rambled to his viewers a little later on. "Most butterflies have super short lifespans—Monarch's included."

Eyes all starry, lights in his bedroom purple as per usual, he'd looked cosy. You wished you'd have stayed.

"But there's a specific kind. Migrating Monarchs. They're the last of their generation—the final butterflies of the year," he marvelled at the magic of it all.

His facts were a little hazy, but he knew enough. Had been down a you-shaped rabbit hole all afternoon.

"And they migrate, right? Move away from home—somewhere warmer—and then it just extends their lifespan. 180 days. Not 30. That's six months. Six months. It's a long time. It's not fleeting. Not in the slightest."

It's also, curiously, exactly how long you're scheduled to stay in Korea for.

"I dunno," Jungkook had just sighed, a little forlorn, trying to make sense of his thoughts.

He bit down on his bottom lip, stroking his thumb against the hard plastic ears of his headset, then focused on the camera again. Wondered if you were watching.

He simply shrugged. Said, "Counts for something, though, right?"

#byholly #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #bangtan fic #jungkook fluff #streamer!jungkook #non idol au #bts fanfic #bangtan ff #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook x reader

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rkvriki · 4 months

Text

GOT ME THINKING NONSENSE sim jaeyun ౨ৎ

synopsis! you get paired up with jake, your sweet classmate who’s always willing to help you, but while you’re both working, he seems to be the one needing help. wc! 5.1k cw! porn with barely no plot unprotected sex (wrap it up yall!!), SUB!JAKE, dom!reader obvi, oral (m! receiving), jake is whiny and reader is just a tad bit mean, unexpirienced but not virgin jake, had huge writers block in the beggining pls spare me 😣

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You could still feel the high heat in your body when you were walking away from your and Heeseng’s place. You probably didn’t look the most presentable, cheeks flush, hair a little bit tousled and your clothes were most likely all wrinkled from being messily thrown out. The walk from your apartment to Jake’s wasn’t longer than 10 minutes since he lived quite close. You checked your phone and it had been 6 minutes past the time you had planned with Jake so you tried to walk a little faster, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling between your legs, the aftermath of your and Heeseung’s sins.

You had met Jake during one of the classes you had together when one day you were late and the sit next to him was the only one available. He was the usual classmate who didn’t talk much but still had a good group friend, in which Heeseung was included. You two didn’t talk much unless when you ask him to help you with something and to you it almost looked as if he avoided talking to you. You often noticed how his cheeks warmed up when you talked to him or how his eyes flickered from yours to the environment around him, which you found cute and made you bite back a smirk each time you interacted. You would be lying if you said you didn’t find Jake attractive. His face looked like it could’ve been sculpted by the Gods above, and when he wore his glasses you swore you could drop all the dignity you had left for him.

It wasn’t too long after that you reached Jake’s apartment building. You took your phone out, texting him that you had reached his house. You didn’t have to wait long to see how good Jake looked today. Sporting basic jeans with a striped polo sweater and his usual black specs, he looked better than ever. Before your mind could wander any further, you walked towards the entrance, greeting him with a smile and following him upstairs and inside his apartment. When you first walked in, you noticed right away how neat his place looked, just like him.

“Nice place you got.” You said with a smile, making him look back at you with a surprised expression. “Oh? Thanks, though! I’m not very good at decorating but I tried my best here.” Jake answered with a shy chuckle. “Yeah, I could tell you did.”

He leads you further into the hallway, entering the door to his room. His room was a reflection of himself. Anyone could tell this was his room just from the way it’s organized and coordinated. The books on the shelves were all neatly placed and organised in alphabetic order. His desk was free of clutter and had only the necessary things placed above it, that, if you considered a picture of what you assumed was his dog necessary. Your eyes found Jake’s and you could see him tense up when you did so.

“Shall we get to work then?” You asked with a smile. “Yeah, yes, of course.” He said quickly moving to sit by his desk. You put your things down and sat next to him, your thighs almost touching since the desk was clearly made for only one person to sit there. You pulled out your laptop and opened the document your teacher had sent you with all the instructions.

“I think we could divide the topics for each other and then discuss which information to keep..” Jake suggested, his eyes flickering between the various topics shown on the screen. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea, Jakey.” The nickname slipped faster than you could catch, but you don’t regret it, especially after seeing how Jake’s ears slowly turned red. You bit your bottom lip to prevent the smirk threatening to form.

You had been working for a little past an hour and you could feel your eyes getting tired from looking at your computer screen for so long. From your peripheral vision, you could see Jake running a hand through his raven hair with a heavy sigh, making your eyes turn to look his way. With your head propped on your hand, you admired as he scrolled through endless reports, trying to find any good content he could for the presentation.

He hadn't noticed your staring, too focused on the screen ahead of him. Your eyes moved down his body. His sleeves had been pulled up a little, just below his elbows, showing off the veins that ran down to his hands. Oh, his hands. Something you always stared at. Anytime you would ask him for help in class you would always get distracted by the hands of the man beside you as he used them to point things out in your textbook. You would almost drool as you stared at his thick fingers, letting your mind wander further than it should.

Obviously, you didn’t keep these things for yourself. This had been a hot topic on your late-night calls with Yunjin, the one you would always run to when you needed feminine advice and didn’t want to hear the constant nagging Jay gave any time you talked about boys. The girl would always laugh at you, mentioning that you must have a thing for nerdy-looking guys or, in her words “pathetic men” (her theory got confirmed when you told her you fucked Heeseung). It wasn’t totally false. It is true that you liked weak men who wouldn’t hesitate to get on their knees for you. Blame you for being tired of guys with big egos who think they’re all that.

Another big sigh, almost groan, snapped you out of your thoughts. You looked at Jake and saw him leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed. “Everything alright?” You asked as you slid your chair closer to his. “Yeah, sorry. Just can’t find any good info for my topics.” He said as he nodded his head towards the screen in front of him. You let out a small sigh as your lips pout with pity, pulling your chair even closer to his. “Don’t be too harsh on yourself, Jakey.” You told him as your hand made its way to his thigh, feeling it tense at the touch. You leaned your body towards his way “You know you can always ask me for help.” our hand moves upwards “Anytime.” You finished with a smile, leaving that last word floating in the air with an uncertain meaning. Jake’s breath got stuck in his throat and he felt the weight of the last word that left your lips. The gears in his head twisted and turned as he tried not to show how the way you were smiling up at him affected him.

You sat back straight in your chair, acting as if you didn’t know what effect you left on him. “Let's ge back to work, yeah?”

It had been a few hours since you started working. During the whole time you could see Jake squirming in his seat, maybe from the tension in the air, so thick that it could be could with a knife. With a sigh, you closed your laptop with a thud, your hands falling to your lap as you turned to look at Jake who seemed to avoid looking you in the eye.

“I guess this is all for today, Jakey.” You said smiling at him. “We can talk tomorrow in class and choose another day to meet again, maybe at my place next time, yeah?” You asked him as you started getting up from your seat, him doing the same. “Oh yeah, we can do that. I was about to finish this part as well so you’re all free to go.” You nodded at his words, your eyes subtly looking him up and down. His hands twitched in his sides. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

Reaching his door, he opened it to let you out. You looked back at him one last time with a slight smirk. His cheeks warmed up and he swayed in his place, suddenly feeling awkward in the loud silence. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You said, now fully smiling. “See you, y/n.” Jake said not moving from his spot.

You walked away from his door, and as soon as you were out of sight, Jake moved to close the door, resting his back against it as he released a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He brought his cold hands to his cheeks, trying to heat them down. He knew working with you wasn’t going to be an easy task.

This cycle of going back and forth between each other’s houses has been going on for a few weeks now and the project was almost done. The thick tension between you two every time you were together was undeniable and it had Jake feeling tense around you.

Ever since you pulled that thing the first time you went to his house, Jake could seem to fully focus when he was around you, always getting distracted by whatever you did. Even during classes, you seemed to purposely sit next to him, only to spend half of the time subtly touching the side of his leg and moving up to touch his tight. Jake was going crazy from your shenanigans and they were the only thing running through his mind when he laid in bed wide awake, head full of you and his hand running down from his tummy to where his body needed him the most.

It’s not like Jake never had sex or related activities, but he wasn’t the most experienced. He had only had sex with his ex and only serious girlfriend he had and it wasn’t anything too out of this world. He knew you’ve had your fair share of sexual encounters, he knew you had plenty of experience and he knew you were damn good at it because he has heard stories from the men you were with. If you asked him a long time ago, this wouldn’t bother Jake, but now, with all you’ve been doing to him, it makes him feel a bit insecure, because if your teasing escalates further he knows he could never compete with those men. But maybe that’s not what you think.

You were waiting for Jake since he was coming over to finish and wrap up the project. You had spent a good two hours in front of the mirror, trying to make yourself look more presentable for him, something you would never admit to anyone even if they paid you. It wasn’t too late but you could see the sun setting from the view in your window. You were about to check your phone when you heard the doorbell ring, meaning Jake had already arrived.

Walking towards the front door, you checked yourself one last time in the mirror before opening the door. “Hey, Jake! Come on in!” You said stepping aside so he could enter your house. “Hey, um, I brought some snacks, since it’s getting kinda late and I remembered you said you liked these so…” He trailed off, showing you two packs of your favourite snacks, making you surprised he even remembered that. “Oh my god, Jake! You definitely didn’t have to. Thank you, though!” You said smiling at him, his cheeks warming up as usual. “Anyways, let’s get started before it gets too late for you.”

The project was going smoothly since today you two were only doing the final touches and reviewing the whole thing. The dynamic between you and Jake today felt different. There were more lingering touches coming from him who you would accidentally touch his hand but he wouldn’t move away or flinch like he usually does. You were surprised that he acting this way, but you were definitely not complaining, you like this less conserved side of him.

You tried to focus on the text on your screen, but you couldn't help but let your eyes drift off to where Jake was sitting working on the powerpoint. It’s not like he didn’t look good any other day, but maybe it was the dim warm light in your room or maybe it was the moon shining from your window behind him, you weren’t exactly sure, but something about him today had him look so good and you couldn’t avoid the warm sensation in the bottom of your tummy that made your thighs press together.

Your inner turmoil was interrupted by Jake’s little sigh, making your eyes focus back on him. “I’m finished with this.” he said turning to look at you. “Do you need any help with that or…?” he trailed off. “Oh! Um no, I’m finished as well.” a thought came up to your head. “Can I check the powerpoint?” you asked leaning a little towards him. “Ah, yes, of course.” He answered, adjusting his glasses.

You pushed your chair closer to his, purposely making your thigh touch his. Jake felt his heart race when you got suddenly so close, the scent of your sweet yet intoxicating perfume invading his senses. His eyes drifted from your focused face down to your exposed neck, making him lick his dry lips as if to stop himself from letting his lips fall into its soft skin. He shook his head, trying to shake the thoughts of you out of his mind and maintain his composure.

“Well, this looks pretty good!” you said smiling at him, almost missing the way his eyes quickly fall from your eyes to your lips. “Oh, really? Thank y-” “You did such a good job, Jakey.” You interrupted him, as you let your hand fall on his thigh. His lips opened and closed as he tried to speak but no words came out. “You worked so hard on this.” your hand started moving up and down, making him tense up. “Think you deserve a reward, don’t you?” his eyes doubled in size as you spoke so softly, yet your words were filled with nothing but lust.

“Answer me, Jake.” you said, leaning closer to his face. “I- Yeah, please.” he answered, voice barely above a whisper. Your lips immediately connected to his, making him let out a low moan. His lips felt soft against yours, fitting almost like two pieces of a puzzle connecting. Your hand moved further upwards, now dangerously close to where his bulge was growing. His wands that were awkwardly laid by his side moved to lay on your hips, gripping them when he felt your tongue swiping against his bottom lips. He gave you access and you started exploring his mouth, tongues rubbing against each other, making both of you moan at each other’s tastes.

Kissing Jake felt heavenly, almost better than anyone you’ve kissed. It felt good to finally be the one leading. You felt so powerful with him writhing against you, yearning for more than just your kisses. You pulled away so both of you could catch your breath. Jake looked up at you, lidded eyes with a glow on them and his lips red and swollen from you biting on them occasionally. “Fuck, Jake. You look heavenly.” He only answered by chasing your lips, already missing the feeling of your lips on his. You pecked his lips before pulling away again, making him let out a whine. Your pussy throbbed at the sound, never had heard a man make such a beautiful sound, almost like a melody to you.

“Let’s move to the bed, yeah?” you asked breathlessly, making him nod eagerly. Both of you stumbled as you got off from your chairs, almost bumping into each other. Jake was the first one to lay in your bed, head hitting your soft pillows. You followed him, crawling in his way, until your legs were straddling his lap, sitting on it. You leaned down, taking his lips on your again. The kiss was messy and heated, both of you probably getting coated in spit but neither could care any less about the mess. His bulge felt delicious as it grew harder and harder below you, rubbing against your clothed core.

You grinded experimentally against his clothed member to which he let out a groan, feeling the heavenly friction of you against him. You kept slowly and teasingly grinding against him as your hands ran down from his face to his chest stopping by his nipples that felt hard against your fingertips. You pressed on them, his hips bucking up as he let out a yelp, not expecting the sudden stimulation. You smirked against him, pulling away from the kiss, a string of spit connecting you both. Your hands left his nipples to pull at the bottom of his shirt, indulging him to take it off. You stared at his toned torso, not expecting to see the lines on his abs, something you would deal with later.

Your mouth made its way to his neck, starting by kissing all over until you found his sweet spot. Your hands started moving back up again to his nipples, rubbing them, making him whine again as he grinded harder against you. “Never had your nipples played like this, Jakey?” you asked, pulling away from his neck “Tell me, baby. Do you like it?” he had his eyes closed and his brows furrowed as he tried to think of what to say. “F-fuck yes” he stuttered “Feels so good!” he said with a whine, making you smirk at his already fucked out state.

You lowered yourself, mouth moving to kiss from the dip in his chest, down to his abs, sucking on the area there, creating red marks all around. Your mouth kissed lower, following his happy trail until you reached the line of his pants. “Can I take this off, baby?” you asked him, pawing at the button. He nodded quicker than he would like to admit. “Need words, Jakey.” you demanded, wanting to hear him voice out his consent. “Yes, y/n, please, fuck”

With his green light, you started unbuttoning his pants and undoing the zipper. You tapped his hip, signalling him to raise them so you could take them off. He did as he was told and you pushed the jeans off, leaving him in just his boxers that already had a damp spot where the tip of his cock was. You stared at the bulge, already noticing that he was probably huge, making you feel a little nervous about fitting him in you. You squirmed in your spot, feeling an uncomfortable sticky feeling in your underwear, making you aware of how wet you were getting.

Jake whined, snapping you out of your thoughts, looking at you with eyes begging for you to touch him. You smiled at his helpless state “What d’you want, Jakey? Need you to speak or I won’t know.” He whined at your words, his brain feeling like a mush inside his head. “N-need you to touch it, please, just do something.” He answered, squirming in your bed as he felt more and more desperate. You didn’t say anything else as your hand moved to his bulge. Poor baby, was hard as a rock. It probably even hurt. You squeeze his length, pre cum escaping the tip and staining his boxers even more. “More, please! I need more,y/n!” he said with a whine.

You took some pity on him and your hands automatically moved to remove his boxers from him, cock hitting his stomach with a bounce, Fuck, he really was huge, and thick. A long vein ran from the base to the tip and you wanted nothing more than to do that. You lowered your mouth on his cock, licking up from the base until you reached the tip, engulfing it with your lips. You licked a stripe on the slit, making him groan at the delicious but almost overstimulating feeling. Your mouth moved down, taking almost his whole length. One of your hands wrapped around what you couldn’t fit, while the other moved to play with his balls, his hips bucking inside you making you gag around him.

The vision Jake had of you ass up and face down on his cock was what he hoped heaven looked like. Your mouth felt warm and heavenly and he already felt brain fucked. He had never felt such pleasure in his life and he just knew this was gonna be the suck of his life. He dared to look down again and his eyes met yours. He could bust right there and then with just the look you gave him. Your eyes were dark, pupils blown out, making him feel so powerless underneath you. His eyes closed shut when he felt you hollowing your cheeks to suck him even harder.

You could tell he was close. His hips were twitching as well as his whole cock and you could feel him throb in your mouth. You removed his length out of your mouth and licked down to his balls, licking them as your hand moved to jerk him off at a quick pace. His breath was getting shorter as he felt his release come closer and closer. “Oh, f-fuck! Please, Please, y/n!” He didn’t even know what he was begging for, his whole body felt numb, except for the knot on his stomach getting tighter and tighter.

Your lips moved to suck on his tip as your hand kept jerking him up and down. His cock started twitching hard in your grip “y/n I-I’m gonna cum-!” His warm cum spurt inside your mouth, making you moan at the feeling of him filling you up. He was moaning loudly as he rode out his orgasms, chest heaving up and down quickly as he tried to keep breathing. You gave him one last hard suck, making him shudder in overstimulation.

You moved to eye level with him, hand moving up to brush his hair away from his face. “Such a good boy for me, yeah?” He nodded in your hold, face flushed and eyes teary from his orgasm. Your lips met his, tongues instantly meeting. He could taste himself on you, making him groan as the bitter taste touched his buds. You pulled away from the kiss, sitting on him fully clothed. Your hands pulled at the hem of your top, taking it off and leaving your torso naked as you weren’t wearing a bra. Jake’s mouth gaped as he stared at your bare chest, hands twitching at his side, wanting to touch them.

“You can touch them, Jakey.” you smiled sweetly at him, showing him you were comfortable with whatever he wanted to do. He let out a shaky breath as his hands hesitated to travel to your chest. He held your boobs in his hand, fitting them perfectly in his calloused hands. He didn’t really know what to do so you moved your hands to hold his, moving his thumbs to rub and twist your hardened nipples. You quietly moaned at the feeling of his rough fingers touching your sensitive buds. You removed your hands from his, letting him experience you by himself. He pinched on your nipples, making you yelp in surprise. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt-” “Do it again.” you told him “W-What? Are you sure?” he asked hesitantly. “Yes, I liked it, Jakey. Was just surprised.” You answered, smiling at him.

His hands returned to your nipples pinching and rubbing them, making you clench around nothing. As much as you enjoyed the feeling you were getting impatient and needed to have him inside you as soon as possible. You grabbed his hands, taking them off of you as you stood up on the ground to take your bottoms off. You slowly pulled them down along with your panties. His eyes carefully watched as you stripped for him and him only.

You straddled him again, your pussy sitting right on top of his cock, making both of you moan at the feeling. Jake grabbed your hips up and sat against the headboard. “Wanted to have a better look at your face when you fuck me.” he said looking up at you with his puppy eyes. You were out of words so you cradled his face in your hands as you kissed him again. Your hips start moving as if on their own, rubbing our cunt against his length, making the tip bump against your clit. He whined inside your mouth as you swallowed his sounds.

You pulled away, hoisting your hips up as your hand grabbed his length and aligned the tip to your entrance. “W-wait!” he suddenly said making you stop in your movements. “Everything ok?” you asked worried that he might have been uncomfortable. “No, I just- You weren’t prepped and-” your lips clashing against his interrupted him, making him let out a protesting sound. “Don’t worry bout that, Jakey.” You simply said as you grabbed his length again positioning it on your gaping hole.

You slowly sink on him, your mouth opening in a silent moan while he whines in your ear, hands moving to circle your waist. You bottomed down and stayed still for a while to adjust to his big and thick size. The only thing heard was both of your heavy breaths. His hands were comfortingly rubbing up and down your back. When you felt ready you moved your head to look at him. “Ready?” you asked him and he nodded eagerly at you.

You started by slowly circling your hips around his length, both of you moaning at the euphoric feeling. He rested his head against your shoulder, panting in your ear. You circled your arms around his neck as you started to pick up your face. The room was filled with the sound of skin hitting skin and the squelch coming from your pussy. “F-fuck, y/n! Never felt s-so good.” Jake whispered as he felt his eyes roll back at the feeling of your raw cunt moving on his hard cock. “Yeah? You’re filling me up so good, Jakey. Even let you go in me raw.” You grabbed his head to make him look at you. His eyes were low and he had drool almost dripping out of the corners of his open mouth.

You moved around him at a now stable pace, moaning loudly when the tip of cock found the spongy spot inside you. “F-fuck, Jake!” he was stretching you out so good, taking you to cloud 9. You looked back at him, his head leaning back on the headboard, completely fucked out. “Look at you.” you said making him open his eyes, barely keeping them from closing again. “Fucked you dumb, didn’t I?” he nodded even though you weren’t really looking for an answer. “Poor baby, just wanted to be a good boy for someone, isn’t that right, Jakey?” he whined at your words, knowing they were fully true so he nodded his head as his eyes got even more teary, one tear even dropping out. You laughed at his state, knowing he had nothing on his brain but your pussy.

You felt the too-familiar pressure on your tummy starting to build up and his cock twitching again. You bottomed out on him again, grinding your hips down on him as you tried to reach your climax. “Oh God! I’m getting close, Jakey.” you said in a whiny moan” You’re gonna cum with me, yeah?” you felt his cock twitch harder inside you as he nodded at your question, wanting to fulfil your request. Your breath was getting laboured but you tried to maintain your composure for him.

Jake could feel you clench around him, knowing you were almost reaching your high. He slowly moved his hand from your waist to where your bodies met, rubbing on your clit. You let out a surprised yelp as you squeezed hard against him, eyes widening at the unexpected contact. “F-Fuck, Jake!” you said breathing heavily. “You make me feel so good.” Both of your lips met, desperately trying to reach both of your releases. You grinded faster on him, now moaning in sync against each other mouths. His finger rubbed faster on your swallowed nub, making your head spin as you threw it back.

“J-Jakey, I’m so close!” you said as you felt your thighs burn from exhaustion. “Me too, f-fuck!” His hips started slightly bucking upwards, trying to match with your movements. Your synced movements had you moaning loudly, not even caring if you’re gonna get complaints from your neighbours later. The sound of Jake’s whines getting louder along with the frequent twitching of his cock indicated that he was just as close as you. You sped up your movements as you felt the knot in your tummy about to burst.

“J-Jake, I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cu-” you were cut off by your orgasm, almost stopping in your movements with a silent scream. The feeling of your juices releasing against his cock had Jake cumming right after you with a loud whine. The aggressive twitching of his cock along with the feeling of his warm seeds painting your insides felt heavenly. You looked down to see a white ring form around his length, slowly moving up and down as you rode both of your orgasms out.

Your heads rested against each others’ shoulders as you stayed like that for a while, you with the feeling of his hands rubbing shapes on your back soothingly. The sound of both of your panting filled the silent room. The sound of traffic could also be heard from outside and it made you go back to your senses. You got your head up, urging Jake to do the same. You pulled him in one last kiss before you pulled his length out of you, making both of you hiss. You got up and walked towards the bathroom to grab a washcloth. You cleaned yourself up first before going back and cleaning his length for him. He shook from still being sensitive, making you chuckle at him.

You tossed the cloth onto the ground and laid next to him, sighing happily when your head hit the comfort of your pillows. Your hand rested on his chest rubbing circles on it as you simply looked at his peaceful state. The silence in the room wasn’t uncomfortable and you felt like you both made a silent rule of not talking about what happened. He grabbed your hand from his chest and gave it a kiss. “Thank you for taking care of me.” He said as he felt his cheeks warm up. You chuckle and prop your head on your hand to get a better view of him.

“Well, thank me when we get a good grade. This was my thanks in advance.” You said, making both of you laugh. “Yeah, maybe I’ll be the one rewarding you next time.”

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen sim jaeyun #enhypen sim jake #enhypen jake sim #enhypen jake smut #enhypen jake x you #enhypen jake x reader #enhypen jaeyun #jake smut #sim jake smut #sim jake x reader

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sinswithpleasure · 1 month

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The After School “Student Entertainment” Club

---------------- Pairing: Karina x Giselle Part 1 || Part 2 || <?> Also available on AO3! ----------------

Yu Jimin’s favorite part of the day is when school ends. Of course, it’s not just her—it’s also every other student. All of Jimin’s classmates prepare to leave, and the chatter in the classroom grows louder and louder while the teacher attempts to call out something about the homework due at the end of the week. Only a few students give the teacher some form of a reply—most of them are buzzing about the new game release, their holiday plans, and for some, their after-school club activities over the upcoming holidays. Bit by bit, the classroom begins to clear, and Jimin waves bye to a few of her classmates as they leave, a wide grin across her face. She packs up at a leisurely pace, enjoying the afternoon breeze that blows through the open windows.

“What’s up, my fellow Sex Ed bud—ow!” Uchinaga Aeri tackles Jimin with a huge back hug, her arms wrapped around the Korean girl’s body in a tight embrace. Before Aeri can finish her sentence, Jimin elbows her friend in the tummy, panic all over her features.

“Shhh!—Shut up, Aeri! Don’t say that so loud!”

“What? There’s no one else here now, and you and I both know that ‘Student Entertainment’ is just a front to cover up that we’re having se—Ow! Stop it! Stop!” True enough—the classroom is empty now, but Aeri still has to let go of Jimin to defend against her strikes. Both girls begin to giggle after, and then they wrap each other in a tight embrace before Jimin takes her bag to leave for the clubroom with Aeri.

—---—

The “Student Entertainment” clubroom is nothing short of lavish—private school budgets and rich members, all two of them actually, will do that. It’s a big room, complete with gaming consoles, a large wall-mounted TV, a big couch that folds out into a bed, bookshelves, and tables and chairs to study. There’s even a bathroom and shower attached. Not many know of what goes on between the four walls, and the lesser anyone knows, the better. Between Jimin and Aeri, this “Student Entertainment Club” is nothing but an excuse to have sex in school whenever they want. It’s kept on the down-low, of course, with only a select few knowing the actual purpose, but for all intents and purposes, it’s the school’s official Gaming Club with a fancy name.

When the door to the club room closes, the girls’ habits take over. Aeri flips the switch for the lights, and Jimin switches on the air conditioning. Both girls drop their bags onto the chairs at the study table, and instantly, Jimin’s pulling off her blazer. Aeri has her hands busy with undoing her tie and unbuttoning her blouse, Jimin following suit after she lays the blazer on top of her bag. Button by button, their blouses fall open to reveal their bras, and those are the next to go. Jimin folds her clothes nicely in a pile on the desk, while Aeri just shoves them into a pile haphazardly. Both girls undo their skirts and push them off their hips, and Aeri is the first to be fully naked after pulling her underwear off as well. Jimin takes her time folding her skirt and panties, and she unties her hair too, letting it cascade down her back and shoulders. Jimin and Aeri now only have their knee-high socks and shoes on.

“We’re done for the term, babe!” Aeri runs and wraps Jimin in a tight hug that Jimin returns. They’re pressed intimately close to each other, just the way they love it—physical affection, clothed or unclothed, is nothing new to them. However, Aeri’s not one to resist her mischievous impulses—she reaches down and gives Jimin’s ass a squeeze, which draws a groan of exasperation from her friend, knowing Aeri’s penchant for mischievous teasing and touching. However, Jimin’s smiling when she pulls back.

“Wanna celebrate?”

“Oh, of course, babe.”

Without wasting a second, Aeri leans in to press her lips against Jimin’s. Both girls share soft pecks before Jimin deepens the kisses—she begins to nip at Aeri’s bottom lip, her hand reaching up to cup Aeri’s head, pushing her into the kiss. Her other free hand glides between their bodies, and she palms the Japanese girl’s left breast, giving it soft squeezes. Aeri doesn’t just let Jimin have her way too—she’s reaching around to softly fondle Jimin’s ass once more, which draws soft moans from her partner. Both girls enjoy the pleasure of the other’s sensual touch, and their kiss only gets hotter—Jimin’s tongue glides across Aeri’s in a show of deep lust and affection, and when they separate for air, strings of spit bridge the gap between their tongues before dripping to their cleavages below. Jimin looks at Aeri with a lustful grin as both girls pant softly to catch their breath, and she whispers softly, “Get on the table for me, Aeri?”

“Anything for you, baby~.”

“Shut up.” Jimin laughs, and Aeri giggles. The Japanese girl walks over to the table, and she lifts herself onto it, her chest jiggling as she makes herself comfortable. Jimin watches, pure want dripping from her gaze as she steps closer, and she bites her lip when Aeri spreads her legs wide open for her as she gets closer.

“Fuck, you’re so hot, Aeri.” Jimin’s pussy throbs when her eyes land on the sight of Aeri’s creamy pussy. It’s her hottest feature, Jimin thinks—that Aeri gets all creamy and messy when she’s turned on. Her pussy throbs at the thought, a rush of slick flowing to stain the skin of her thighs as she feasts her eyes on her partner’s body. “You’re so wet.”

“All because of you.” Aeri winks, and she pulls Jimin closer, arms wrapping around the Korean girl’s body. “I bet you’re absolutely dripping for me too. Can’t wait to taste you.”

“Who says you have to wait?”

Jimin reaches between their bodies, her shaky breath brushing against Aeri’s lips as she runs a hand all over her core. With a grin, she raises it to Aeri’s lips, her fingers glistening with her slick.

“Taste me, Aeri.”

Aeri makes a show of it—she dives in and licks Jimin’s wet palm from bottom to top. However, her gaze doesn’t leave Jimin—she stares deep into the other girl’s eyes as she collects her juices on her tongue before making a show of swallowing it. She licks Jimin’s palm and fingers clean, swiping her tongue over and between each finger as if they were delicacies, before softly moaning in satisfaction at the taste. At this point, Jimin is almost feral for her partner—her cunt drips fresh slick as she thinks about what she wants to do to Aeri.

“All clean, babe. You always taste so good.” Aeri smirks at Jimin’s lustful gaze, her hungry eyes raking over her nude body as if it was fresh meat. The Japanese girl spreads her legs even wider, shifting back onto the desk as she plants her feet firmly on the surface. “Eat me?”

Aeri watches with bated breath as Jimin bends over the desk, head between her legs, her hands palming the Japanese girl’s meaty thighs. Jimin looks up at Aeri, her eyes burning with lust as she plants a soft kiss on her right thigh, then another, then another. She takes her time leaving a trail down her thigh, her lips drawing closer and closer to Aeri’s creamy sex. Every soft breath Jimin releases brushes against Aeri’s skin and leaves her wanting more. Jimin’s hungry eyes don’t help either—Aeri adores eye contact during sex, and Jimin always abuses it during their sessions. A fresh wave of creamy slick flows from Aeri’s pussy, down her skin, and Jimin giggles.

“So needy already?”

“Shut up, babe. You know what happens when you look at me like that,” Aeri whines, “It makes me so fucking wet and you’re still teasing me!”

Jimin doesn’t offer a verbal response—she smirks, and she deliberately plants more kisses down Aeri’s thigh. However, when her lips land right next to the Japanese girl’s labia, Jimin deliberately leaves kisses right around Aeri’s core, just shy of where Aeri wants her to be. Aeri squirms under Jimin’s touch, and she attempts to buck her hips, to brush her core over Jimin’s mouth. However, Jimin pulls back, a soft “No, no, no” stopping Aeri’s efforts. Jimin takes her time with her partner—she starts leaving a second trail of kisses down Aeri’s left thigh now, and the girl beneath her groans in both arousal and frustration.

“I swear to God, Jimin, if you tease me one more time…”

“Should I, Aeri?” Jimin’s smirk only annoys Aeri further—she’s in the palm of Jimin’s hand, so to speak, and she can’t do anything about it.

“If you fucking do it, I’m going to—oh, Jimin, FUCK!”

Aeri never finishes her sentence. In the midst of her distraction, Jimin’s hands glide over Aeri’s thighs down to her core, and she spreads her partner’s labia wide open. She then forcefully licks up the entire length of Aeri’s slit, from the base all the way up, ending at her clit, and she wraps her lips around it to suck on it softly before she begins to tongue Aeri’s hole, lapping at the fresh, creamy slick that leaks from her cunt. Jimin moans as she tastes Aeri’s juices, and she stimulates the girl beneath her even more—her tongue glides over Aeri’s folds, right over her entrance, again and again, all while she thumbs her clit, rubbing circles over the sensitive nub, drawing broken moans from the girl beneath her.

Aeri writhes and squirms atop the table as she plays with her breasts, kneading and palming the flesh between her fingers for more pleasure. She can’t stop staring at Jimin between her legs, eating her out so fervently, and she moans when Jimin begins to penetrate her with her tongue, the slick muscle slowly gliding deeper and deeper into her.

“Fuck, eat me, eat me, Jimin!”

And eat Aeri she does—Jimin’s tongue laps at Aeri’s walls as more and more slick flows from deep within her cunt, and she continues to rub circles on Aeri’s hard clit. Aeri’s pleasured moans fill the room as she watches Jimin wreak havoc on her body, their eyes meeting once more. It drives her crazy—Jimin looks so hot between her legs, her tongue deep inside her cunt, rubbing against her walls, and the wet slurps that emanate from below only serve to arouse her further. The constant pressure on her clit has Aeri moaning even louder—Jimin is relentless in pleasuring her. She continues writhing and twisting on the table, her legs wrapped around her partner’s head now, over her shoulders, hips bucking and thighs flexing on hard swipes across her clit.

“Fuck—fingers, Jimin—mmph, please—”

Without missing a beat, Jimin’s lips wrap around Aeri’s clit while her middle and ring fingers slide into her hole. The sudden penetration has the Japanese girl squealing in surprise, and she thrashes about as Jimin begins to softly suck on her clit while she thrusts her fingers in and out of her partner. A sheen of cream coats her digits, and Jimin grins when she sees how messy Aeri is. White slick drips down all over the tabletop beneath her, and it stains her thighs as well. Jimin loves how messy Aeri gets during sex, and it only turns her on more as well. She wipes her lips and face clean with the back of her other hand and licks it off her skin, smirking at the taste.

“Fuck, you’re such a messy girl, Aeri.”

Aeri whines at the loss of pleasure—a talking Jimin is a Jimin that isn’t pleasuring her with her mouth. A much louder whine leaves her lips when Jimin pulls out of her, thick strings of Aeri’s cream clinging to them.

“What the fuck, Jimin?”

“Shh…” Jimin raises her wet hand—Aeri’s juices drip down her skin, and she laps up the excess flowing droplets with her tongue. The Korean girl steps between her partner’s legs, and she raises her slick fingers to Aeri’s lips.

“Suck.”

On Jimin’s command, Aeri wraps her lips around Jimin’s fingers. She sucks on them, tongue sliding over the digits to collect her arousal, clean them of her juices. She moans at the taste of herself, and Jimin grins lustfully as she watches. When Aeri releases her fingers, Jimin immediately replaces it with her lips, and she penetrates Aeri with them again, fingering her while they make out.

“God, Aeri, do you know how much you turn me on?” Jimin’s hot breaths brush right against Aeri’s lips, and the Japanese girl gasps in pleasure as Jimin expertly finds her G-spot, gently rubbing her fingers against the patch of flesh. “I love how wet you get for me, all that cream leaking from that messy little cunt when I finger you, when I eat you out. Shit, you get me so wet when you cream like that for me, fuck!”

Aeri almost complains when Jimin pulls away from her, but it’s cut off by a long moan when Jimin presses down on the flesh of her abdomen, right over where her fingers are inside her. She traps Aeri’s G-spot between her fingers, and she thumbs the Japanese girl’s clit once more while rubbing and poking against the patch of flesh inside her, and Aeri thrashes and writhes once more, the combined assault too much for her.

“No—Haah, Jimin—Mmgh, Jimin, I—please, Jimin, you’re—Haah!—No, stop!—I’ll cum, I’ll cum!”

Aeri’s broken moans only make Jimin wetter. Copious amounts of slick leak from Aeri’s hole, and Jimin takes the chance to add an extra finger into the mix, stretching her partner out just a little bit.

“No, Jimin, fuck—you—FUCK!”

With a loud scream, Aeri’s hips buck, and a deluge of her juices gush out of her, all over Jimin’s wrist and arm, flowing beneath her. The table is a mess now—puddles of slick rest between her legs on the polished wood, and the overflow splattering all over the floor. Jimin continues fingerfucking her convulsing partner as spray after spray of her squirt drenches her arm, the table, and the floor. Some of it even lands on Jimin’s breasts, and she sighs in arousal—Aeri cumming so hard for her only makes her drip down her thighs even more.

When Aeri comes down from her high, falling limp on the table, Jimin takes the chance to climb atop it to straddle her partner. She kneels right above Aeri’s head, putting herself on full display for the girl beneath her.

“Oh my God, Jimin… You’re so wet…” Aeri breathes.

“All because of you,” Jimin echoes, mirroring Aeri’s words from earlier. “Eat me.”

“With pleasure.”

Aeri isn’t like Jimin—she doesn’t tease at all. When Jimin lowers herself down, Aeri’s tongue is already lapping at her partner’s thighs, cleaning it of the excess slick. Both of her hands reach to knead the soft flesh of Jimin’s ass, just like earlier, and she takes her time pleasuring the Korean girl now, her tongue gliding over wet folds, teasing the dripping entrance. Jimin moans loudly above her, her hands reaching to play with her breasts, kneading her own flesh between the gaps of her fingers and pinching her nipples for more pleasure. Aeri’s tongue continuously teases Jimin’s clit and hole, occasionally penetrating deep into her to taste her dripping slick. Both girls are moaning now: Aeri in satisfaction, Jimin in pleasure, and the Korean girl grinds down on the girl beneath her, making a mess of her mouth and chin as more and more slick flows from deep within.

“Oh fuck, Aeri, god, your mouth, fuck, you always eat me so well, fuck!”

Jimin rests her hands on the tabletop behind Aeri’s head now, and she begins to use the Japanese girl’s mouth like a toy. She grinds down harder, chasing her own high with her partner’s mouth and nose, messily rubbing her core on any part of Aeri that she could. Aeri eats it all up—she tongues what she can of Jimin while one free hand of hers shifts between her legs now, two fingers plunging deep into herself. Both girls masturbate together, with Jimin using Aeri’s face and Aeri with her own fingers. Louder moans fill the room now, both of pleasure and satisfaction, mixed with the wet sounds of oral sex and masturbation.

“God, Aeri, I’m gonna cum soon, I’m gonna cum all over your face, I’m gonna squirt all over you, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“Mmlph, mmgh, hngh!”

Two sets of broken cries ring out in the clubroom. Both girls reach their peaks together—Jimin convulses atop Aeri, one hand of hers reaching below to rub her clit as gush after gush of squirt spills over the Japanese girl’s face, hair, and breasts. Every brush of her clit and pinch of her nipple only adds to the pleasure, and every spray only serves to drive Aeri crazier. She drinks what she can of Jimin, and at the same time, Aeri’s hips buck again beneath Jimin, spray after spray of squirt and cream exploding out of her as she orgasms once more. Both girls make a mess of the room and of each other at their peaks, gasps and moans of pleasure filling the air as they ride out their highs, the satisfaction washing over them throughout the experience.

When both girls come down from their highs, they climb off the table, Aeri helping Jimin down. Immediately, they’re kissing again, but this time, it’s soft and chaste. When Aeri breaks the kiss, she grins. “God, that felt so good.”

“Mhm,” Jimin nods, grin mirrored on her face. “Thanks Aeri, you’re the best.”

“Aww, getting soft on me, buddy?” Aeri doesn’t pass up the chance to tease Jimin, as usual.

“God, fuck off, Aeri. Let’s clean our mess up and shower.”

Aeri pouts in jest, but she’s immediately grabbing Jimin’s hand as they leave for the bathroom to grab the cleaning supplies.

“Let’s stay back and order in! There’s this Netflix show I’ve been meaning to watch…”

#kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #aespa smut #aespa giselle smut #aespa karina smut #karina smut #giselle smut

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coldfanbou · 3 months

Text

More Than A Bath

I mixed things up a little with a soapland theme. I hope y'all enjoy

Length 2.7K

Nako x Mreader X Kazuha

You look up at the sign and take a deep breath. There were murmurs that she worked here, but you didn’t think it was true. You click your phone and check the time: 10 pm. The shop is supposed to be open now. You walk up to the door and step inside. The front room was decorated in such a way that it looked like a casino. To your left was a man behind the counter wiping it down. “Welcome! I haven’t seen your face before. Is it your first time here?”

You nod your head, “It is.”

“Welcome to the Royal Flush. We offer great relaxation for men after a long day's work. We have a few options here, starting at thirty minutes and going up to two hours. That said, you can extend it up to another two hours.” The man motions to a blank board behind him before turning around. “My apologies; I forgot to turn this thing on. Just a moment.” He goes under his desk, flicking a button, causing the screen to light up with pictures of women on playing cards. You couldn’t see anyone who looked like her, though. He motions to the screen. “As you can see, we have many ladies available to help you. You can choose any one of them for your time here. Or if you’re feeling lucky, you can play the roulette.”

“What’s the roulette?”

“I’m glad you asked, sir. The roulette is a wheel that gives you the chance to get two women for the price of one and even enables some that are usually reserved for special customers. The price to play is a little higher than choosing from the board, but if you hit the jackpot, you get two women for four hours. At worst, you’re paying a little more for our basic thirty-minute service, but at best, you’ll have the best night of your life. All you have to do is predict the space the ball will land in. What would you like, sir?”

You consider the chance the rumors were true, and she was just for special customers. “I choose the roulette.” After taking your money, the man smiles and asks you for a number. You choose the number she had ended up with on the show, six. The screen behind the man changes to a roulette wheel, and he begins the game. The ball on-screen moves around the roulette wheel, and while you don’t have high hopes for getting it right, you hope you’ll at least get something good.

As the ball begins to slow down, you see it coming up on your number. Time slows down as the ball approaches the number six spot and swings past it one more time before coming around again. The ball loses momentum as it hits one of the ball deflectors, and miraculously, it plops into the six slot. The man smiles at you, “How rare.” He says, a slight amusement in his voice. “Congratulations, sir, you’ve hit the jackpot. You’ll be allowed to choose two women to help you relax and choose from our special menu. That being said, not everyone is in, so you’ll have limited choices.” The screen behind the man changes again to show different women than before, and immediately, you spot her. Nako was working here. You continue to look at the boar, seeing other idols on it. Some of them greyed out to show they were unavailable.

“How do you get them to come when they’re so busy with other activities?”

“They need to relax too. All things considered, they come here pretty often. So who would you like?” You look back at the board, seeing other Japanese idols like Twice’s J-line and members of Le Sserafim.

“I’d like Nako and Kazuha.”

“Great choices. Here is your room number. They’ll be there in a moment. You may take the elevator to the top floor.” You give the man a nod and head to your room. Thoughts run through your mind. You never expected to find out that idols would work at some place like this. You hadn’t even considered what you would do now that you were faced with meeting Nako and Kazuha.

When you get to your room, you tap the card the man gave you and step inside. It was a fully furnished apartment on the inside. You walk further in, seeing the view from your floor. You could see block after block of the city from your room. Wanting to look at the other rooms, you first come across the bathroom; poking your head inside, you see the usual inflatable you had seen in porn and notice the giant bath behind it. The floor was all tile, with a drain in the corner of the room. You check the other side of your room, seeing it was just a bedroom. Checking through the dressers, you notice sex toys and condoms, among other things.

You hear a small beep from the front and head back to the living room to see Nako and Kazuha standing there. What’s immediately noticeable is their lack of clothing. Both are wearing just their bra and panties, only after you notice their hair being up. You gulp, nervous and unable to say a word. They give you a small smile and wave, obviously used to being seen in their state. Nako takes the lead, walking up to you and wrapping her around your back. “Take good care of us.” She says, her head on your chest. She shines a smile your way before letting you go.

Kazuha pats the short woman’s bottom, “Would you like to get started, sir?”

“I would.”

“This way, then.” Kazuha grabs your arm, pressing it against her modest breasts as she leads you to the bath. Nako grabs your other arm. Kazuha turns the water on for the bath, and the pair begin to strip you down, working quickly.

“Oh, look at this.” Nako teases as she pulls down your pants. Your bulge was obvious to everyone. She runs her small hands along it before kneeling and rubbing her face against it. “Ah, it’s been so long. Kazuha, aren’t you excited?” She says, looking at the younger woman. She grabs Kazuha’s hand, placing it on your crotch. “It’s big, huh?” Kazuha’s cheeks turn red, and she looks away from you, embarrassed. “Let’s get these off.” Nako tugs at your underwear until it finally comes off, your cock smacking her forehead. She’s stunned for a second but quickly laughs it off. Her small hand struggles to wrap itself around your shaft. “You are big!” She exclaims with a huge smile on her face. You groan as she strokes your shaft. While Nako plays with your cock, Kazuha takes off the little clothing she has, unhooking her bra and tossing it near the door before stepping out of her panties. Your attention quickly returns to Nako as you feel her tongue running back and forth over your cock.

“Ah, Nako.” You moan, feeling your knees get weak from the sudden pleasure. She giggles before continuing.

“We should get you in the bath,” Kazuha says as she strips Nako of her bra. “Don’t you think that’s a good idea, Nako?” Nako has a slight frown on her face but agrees, letting you go to remove her panties. Kazuha leads you into the tub, stepping in to test the water. The tub was wide enough to comfortably fit the three of you, with Nako on one side and Kazuha on the other. The shorter woman couldn’t seem to keep her hands off you. She reached for your cock, stroking it slowly as she pressed her tits into your arm. Kazuha sees what Nako is doing and joins in, turning onto her side and cupping your balls as she drags her nipples along your arm. You’re eyes are glued to Nako as she steadily moves her hand along your shaft. She plants her lips on yours and speeds up. You grunt in response, struggling to do much else. Your hand wraps around Nako, squeezing her tit and making her moan. Her devilish smile grows as her grip on your shaft tightens. Kazuha begins to whisper into your ear as you focus on Nako. “You’ve got Nako wrapped around your finger. Did you know she’s on birth control? You can cum inside her all you’d like.” Kazuha’s sensual voice continues, “I’m on birth control too. I wouldn’t mind if you gave me a few creampies either.”

Your cock begins to twitch in Nako’s hand. “Don’t cum so quickly. We’re just getting started. Kazuha and I still need to wash your body. Maybe we should use the mat. You’d like that, right? It would mean we get to use our entire body.” You nod along and get out of the bath with Nako and Kazuha. They place you on the inflatable mat. Nako grinds on your leg, lightly moaning as she stares at your cock. Kazuha had gathered water and soap to clean your body before seeing Nako enjoying herself. She huffs and puts everything on the floor before getting behind the petite woman.

“Nako, you’re forgetting your job. We’re supposed to be making the customer feel good.” She says, grabbing Nako’s small breasts and squeezing them. The short woman throws her head back and moans.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Nako asks as she grinds on your leg. “I just need a little release.”

“Nako, you’re being a slut in front of our customer,” Kazuha responds, digging her fingers into Nako’s skin.

“I’m a slut. I’m a slut,” Nako cries. “I don’t think I can wait any longer.” She breaks free from Kazuha’s grip and moves up to your crotch, rocking against your cock. Nako quickly raises herself and slams herself onto your cock. You fill the room with moans as you cum as soon as you’re buried inside Nako. You’re not the only one, though, as Nako cums with you. Feeling your warm cum flood into her cunt, Nako slowly grinds against you as she moans. Nako moves her fingers along her clit, rubbing it in small circles. “Ah, so full. I feel so hot, Kazuha.” You feel Nako’s cunt milking your cock. She was tight, her walls squeezing you with a lot of force. Your eyes are glued to Nako, watching as she pleasures herself. You don’t notice Kazuha fingering herself as she watches Nako. She’s groping herself and pushing her fingers deeper into her cunt as Nako begins to move again. Nako leaves just the head inside before swallowing your cock in one movement. You stifle your moan while Nako lets hers fill the room. “You’re so big. Look here.” Nako says, pointing at a bulge. She presses on it; you grunt, realizing the bulge was because of you. Nako begins bouncing on your cock, moving at a steady pace as she gets used to your size. She holds your thighs and throws her head back as she moans, noticing Kazuha standing there.

“Come on, Kazuha, join us. You’ll be in heaven.” Nako says, humming in bliss as she slams herself down, moving her hips to please both of you. Kazuha gets beside you, taking one of your hands and moving it toward her now aching cunt. “No, Kazuha ride him.” Nako says as she continues to use you. Kazuha looks at you, her face bright red, before nodding. She silently positions herself over your face, trying to lower herself gently. She was taking a little too long for you, and you decided to pull her down. Your tongue pushes past her wet lips, diving inside her. You felt Kazuha squirm on top of you; she placed her hands on your chest as she let a river of moans flow out from her. “It feels good, doesn’t it? Just wait until this is inside you.” Nako tells her coworker as she rubs the bulge. Kazuha's breathing quickens as she feels your tongue lapping at her walls. She struggles to keep herself up. Nako sees her friend struggling and lifts Kazuha’s head before kissing her. “I love seeing you like this.” Nako seems almost drunk on the pleasure she’s receiving; she plays with Kazuha’s tit, attaching herself to her nipple and swirling her tongue around it.

You dig your hands into Kazuha’s waist, keeping her in place. She began to grind against your face, the pleasure making her go crazy. The pleasure from you and Nako was pushing her toward the edge. She started to whimper as she closed in on her climax. “I don’t want to…I don’t want to cum yet.” She whined as she came. Kazuha’s body twitched as she came, her body rocking uncontrollably. Nako smiled, loving the sight of Kazuha cumming on your face. You lap up her sweet nectar, making the younger woman shiver before she falls to the side.

“Can you give me a taste?” Nako asks as she leans in. You were more than willing to share, pushing your tongue into her mouth. You sat up and grabbed Nako’s waist. You held her for a moment before moving her up and down your shaft. She began to groan as you took control of her. You rammed every inch into Nako’s small body, enjoying as her cries of pleasure came more often and eventually turned into whines. “I’m going to cum. I’m- I’m cumming!” Nako screamed as you continued to use her. Your cock began to twitch inside her cunt, and you told her to get ready for another creampie. “F-fuck, do it cum in me,” Nako whined as you impaled her on your shaft and shot your cum into her. Nako’s walls clamped down around your cock, rubbing the head and making you want to go deeper. Your cum flooded Nako’s pussy, leaking out of her before you even pulled out. You take a good look at Nako, the blissful expression on her face, the drool running down her cheek as her mind goes.

Nako collapses on you, her cunt still squeezing your cock long after your orgasm ended. You lift her off and turn to Kazuha. She was face down on the floor, still recovering. Your eyes move down her smooth back until you notice her shapely bottom. You get behind her and stroke your cock, getting yourself ready for another round.

With your other hand, you grab Kazuha’s waist and lift her ass. You press your cock against her entrance and slowly push yourself inside the young woman. “Ah, you're stretching my pussy,” She groans weakly. Kazuha manages to get her arms under herself and push her face off the floor. She looks over her shoulder to see you pushing yourself inside. Kazuha’s walls welcomed you, snuggly wrapping around your cock as you rested inside her. You were close to cumming, sensitive from your last orgasm. Still, you pushed onward, beginning to thrust into the young woman, your pace picking up. You have to dig your fingers into Kazuha’s waist to keep her from moving. As you’re pounding away at her body, you can’t help but look at Kazuha’s beautiful ass; you pull back your hand and slam it into her soft ass. She yelps from the hit. A handprint begins to form because of the force used, but Kazuha begs you to do it again.

You drive your hand into her ass again. She moans this time, loving the pain. Nako comes around, lying on the inflatable mattress and looking at Kazuha. Her fingers playing with her clit as she watches. You’re getting turned on by having Nako watch you and begin to move faster, slamming yourself into Kazuha without a second thought. The young woman’s moans become louder, and her walls clamp down around your cock. You were both nearing your climax. You couldn’t hold it any longer and buried yourself inside Kazuha, filling her womb with your cum. Your orgasm triggered hers. As soon as she felt your thick cum fill her, Kazuha arced her back and came on your cock. You could hear Nako teasing Kazuha, but her words were muddled as you focused in on the image of Kazuha’s back.

When you start to regain yourself, you hear Nako’s voice. “We still have three hours, Kazuha. How are you going to last that long?” Nako pinched the younger woman’s cheeks. “Are you going to make me take him the whole time? I don’t mind, but you have to be professional.” Nako turns her attention to you. “Why don’t we head for the bedroom? We can take Kazuha with us. She loves watching.” You nod your head, ready to spend more time with Nako.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #izone smut #le sserafim smut #yabuki nako smut #kazuha smut

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lovedazai · 4 months

Text

02. ACROSS THE UNIVERSE . . . dazai tries to make up for lost time by taking you out to dinner.

ft. beast!dazai + f!reader, pm boss!dazai, civilian!reader, lovesick dazai, possessive behavior, implied stalking (he keeps tabs on you & has pics of you), spoilers for beast au light novel & manga, 2.3k w.c.

SERIES MASTERLIST

the walk from the elevator to dazai’s office is long. his footsteps are loud against the hallway floor, lined with armed guards who stand completely silent and still. they don’t dare to move a muscle as dazai passes them, his black coat fluttering behind him with every step he takes.

“gin-chan,” he calls as he nears his door, and the girl turns to him expectantly. he beckons her to follow him with a curved finger, and she trails behind him into his office. he stands before his floor to ceiling window, a glass wall that reveals all of the city. he looks out over yokohama’s skyline, buildings silhouetted against a clear blue sky, with his hands folded behind his back. “cancel any appointments i have scheduled for tomorrow. inform the executives i’ll be unavailable, too.”

she bows politely as he dismisses her with a lazy wave of his hand, watching her leave through the reflection of the glass, waiting to hear the soft click of his office’s mahogany doors closing behind her.

in the isolation of his office, a smile breaks out on his face. he collapses into his chair, cradling his cheeks in his palms, aching and rosy with joy. he couldn’t believe you agreed to go out with him; you always were too trusting, weren’t you?

he giggles, swarms of butterflies fluttering against his ribs and tickling his stomach. he wonders what you’ll wear; he recalls an image of you in a strappy little black dress during a night out with your friends a few months ago, and twirls himself towards his desk to search through his locked drawer, the one with the false bottom.

his phone rings from inside his coat pocket, and he doesn’t even look at who it is before he answers, his smile still on his face as he rummages through old notebooks and files. “yes?”

“you ‘won’t be available’?” chuuya scoffs. “what?”

dazai sighs dramatically, like the sound of his voice exhausted him. “i have a date to prepare for.”

“the fuck are you talking about?” he asks, voice curious despite his choice of words. “a date?”

“yes, chuuya. are you unfamiliar with the concept?”

“shut up. you’re going out with a stranger? without anyone to protect you?”

“she isn’t a stranger,” his voice turns cold, a stark contrast from his teasing tone.

“who the hell would ever go out with you?”

“don’t worry,” he grins, holding the phone between his cheek and shoulder, rustling through the drawer with more control. “you’ll meet her soon enough.”

he hears a muffled freak before the phone line goes dead.

he finally finds what he’s been looking for. he pulls a large envelope out, carefully unraveling the twine that holds it closed. he opens it, filled with all of the images he’s collected of you: sunbathing at the beach with your friends, picking up takeout after a late night at work, the wind blowing your hair into your eyes just as you’re leaving the bookstore. he sifts through them all with care before he finally finds the one he was thinking of. he sighs dreamily, tracing the curve of your body with his finger. his eyes never leave it, even as he presses the call button on his desk.

“actually, gin-chan,” he hums, still smiling at the photo. “one more thing. order a bouquet. have it delivered tomorrow afternoon. fourーno, five dozen red roses.”

he wears a suit; not one used for work, this was far too special for that. this one is untainted, only brought out of his closet and into the light of day to be freshly dry-cleaned and pressed. it’s not black the way his other suits were, this one is a deep chocolate brown with a wrinkle-free white button-down shirt and a black tie tucked beneath a sage green vest.

he lingers in front of his mirror, draping his coat over his shoulders, then sliding his arms through the sleeves. he tilts his head, he pulls on his collar, he straightens his tie. he’s never been so critical about his appearance before. he brushes his hand through his hair, glaring at his reflection when his fingers catch on knotted, neglected strands. he suddenly recalls a moment that isn’t his; it was before a gala for the agency when you trailed your fingertips along the curve of his cheek, brushing his hair back and whispering affectionate words about how handsome he was against his lips. he decides to tuck his bangs behind his ear.

even before he sends his driver off, he checks himself one last time in the reflection of the tinted car windows. he stands before the finest restaurant in the port mafia’s territory; it was no problem to request it be closed down for the two of you, being under the mafia’s protection.

when he sees another familiar black car arrive, he perks up. you step out, looking a bit dazed. you’re not wearing the black dress from the photo; no, he’s never seen this one before. it hugs your body perfectly, and the way the fabric contours your curves leaves him absolutely enchanted. he grins, imagining you picking it out to wear just for him.

“i can’t believe you got a fancy car to pick me up from the train station,” you laugh breathlessly, more out of shock than amusement. “this is the craziest first date i’ve ever been on.”

something suffocating crawls up his throat as he imagines you going out with someone other than him. he exhales shakily, but conceals it with a smile as he holds the bouquet out for you.

your eyes widen at the sight of the roses, scarlet petals and emerald stems bundled in smooth matte paper and tied with a silk ribbon. your fingers brush against his as you take it from him, and he beams as you cradle it in the nook of your arm.

“thank you,” you smile up at him nervously, the bouquet nearly engulfing your form. “you look handsome. i’m not sure if i dressed fancy enough for this.”

“you look perfect,” he smiles, offering you his elbow. you are perfect.

your pretty fingers wrap around his arm, and your touch seers his skin through his clothing as he guides you inside. the ceiling is lined with glistening chandeliers, soft spots of light illuminating the velvet black that coats the restaurant. soft linen hangs off all the tables’ corners, plated with shiny porcelain dinnerware and delicate crystal glasses. he leads you to the one enveloped in flickering candlelight, tucked away intimately in the corner of the large dining room.

“oh my god,” you gasp, the sparkling light reflected in your wide eyes. “what exactly do you do for a living?”

he holds a finger up to his grinning lips, reaching for a menu. it’s only a single, thick page and you take it from him gingerly. he pulls a bottle of champagne from its home in the metal bucket at the corner of the table, ice cubes shifting to fill the gap it left behind. he pours your glass before his own, catching your gaze as you eye him shyly over the top of the edge of the menu.

“i’m not sure what to get…” you say softly. “i’ve never been somewhere like this before.”

“don’t worry,” he rests his chin on his folded hands. “i’ll pick something i know you’ll love.”

the food comes and goes. he couldn’t tell you what it tasted like, all he could focus on is the pretty girl in front of him. he’s the most dangerous man in yokohama, the puppeteer of its underworld; he has anything he could desire at his fingertips yet all he could possibly want is you, looking at him like this forever.

your eyes never leave him, and he could swear there’d be stars glistening in your pupils like their own secret universe if he looked close enough. you hang on to his every word, and you don’t even mind when he reaches across the table and slides his fingers in between your own. he thinks your palms fit together like two puzzle pieces; not molded around each other over time, but made with the purpose of being bonded to one another.

“you know, your hair looks really good like that,” you say softly, your eyes trailing over his face. he hopes the reason your pupils are dilated isn’t just from the dark lighting. it’s the same enamored look he catches glimpses of in his memory, when you’re hidden beneath the dim lighting of bar lupin, both of you too young to be drinking but doing it anyway.

“oh! i almost forgot to tell you!” he taps the edge of the table in lieu of clapping, not wanting to let go of your hand. he knows you won’t remember, but he can’t help but get excited at the thought of seeing that fond yet exasperated look on your face with his own two eyes. “i’ve been trying to make the firmest tofu. i finally succeeded!”

“really? maybe i can try it next time.”

next time. you want a next time with him. he wonders if you know he’d give you the rest of his life if you asked for it.

you were more than happy to talk to him, and it almost made it feel like you weren’t just two strangers eating dinner together. it didn’t matter to him that he already knew everything you were telling him. he loved listening to the sound of your voice.

your cheeks dimple as you smile, playing with his fingers as you tell him about how you finished your degree last month. he can’t help but swell with pride; he already knew, of course. the file he had personally made on you had only grown over the years with all of the little details he’d secretly collected about you.

it’s when you’re talking about a book you recently read that he begins to lose focus. he watches the way your lips shape around every syllable, but he can’t help but think about odasaku, how you two would’ve gotten along so nicely. it didn’t seem like you’d get the opportunity to meet him in any universe.

“are you okay?” you ask softly, your nails tracing the soft indent of his heart line across his palm.

“of course i’m okay,” he smiles so quickly, it’s as if nothing was ever wrong. quieter, he says, “how could i not be when i’m with you?”

“talk to me?” your voice is so sweet, and he inhales deep enough that he feels his stomach expand against the waistband of his pants. “i’m a good listener.”

“i have a friend,” he starts, his gaze falling down to the table. “he wasーis a writer, a really good one.”

“has he published anything?” you ask around a sip of your glass. “i’d love to read something of his.”

“me too,” he sighs, and you tilt your head curiously. “i’m afraid we…don’t speak anymore.”

your sympathetic gaze makes his chest tighten, something invisible constricting around his lungs until it’s hard for him to breathe. the last thing he wanted was for you to pity him, not now.

“it seems like he had an impact on you,” you squeeze his hand between yours once more. “i’m sure he still thinks about you and misses you as well.”

he had to resist every desperate instinct in his body that told him to throw the table aside and kiss you right there.

you’ve made it to dessert, and dazai swears he’s never been happier in his miserable life than right now; this was all going so much better than he could’ve ever imagined. you brighten when the waiter places a small plate in front of you, carrying a piece of cake cut into a perfect rectangle and drizzled with sugary sweetness. he watches the way your pretty lips curl into a smile against the prongs of your fork as you taste it. some frosting smears against the corner of your mouth. he reaches across the table and swipes it away with his thumb, grazing your lips.

you freeze, eyes wide and blinking as you stare at him. the warmth of your cheeks spreads against his palm, and he greedily lets his hand linger as long as he appropriately can before he pulls back.

he thought it’d be painful to say goodbye at the end of the night, unsure how many more moments like this the universe would allow him to indulge in before it ripped you away from his grasp, but he can’t stop himself from smiling as you wrap your arms around him when you walk out of the restaurant, cheeks rosy from the champagne and the winter breeze.

you tug his hand gently, trailing your own up his arm until you can tug on the lapels of his coat and pull him to a stop. when you push your lips to his beneath the glittering lights of yokohama, he nearly bursts into tears. all his hair raises against the cotton of his bandages as you slide your arms across his shoulders, and he presses against your lower back until you’re flush against him. he can’t believe this is really happening to him; he waits, ready to wake up alone from some cruel dream, but he doesn’t. there’s no chill from the empty sheets next to him or the plush of his pillow against his head. it’s only you, with the sweet smell of your perfume and your soft tongue trailing along his bottom lip.

you pull on his tie, wrapping the fabric around your palm until your thumb is close enough to smooth against the knot, the tip of your nose brushing against his.

“would it be too forward of me…” you kiss him again, pulling away just enough to mumble the rest of your sentence. “...to ask such a pretty boy back to my apartment?”

he grins, cupping your cheeks and pulling you back to his mouth.

BSD MASTERLIST

taglist . . . @dazaichuuya69 @dazaisfavgf @annoyingpainterprincess @avocate-assia-dazai @kissesmellow21 @ceranchi @walking-simp @starmaiya11 @liliavalentine @seimpathyopera @little-miss-chaoss @17cherries @getoso @s1eepybunny @auraxins @anqelically @kentopedia @causenessus @aureatchi @fyotherat @sigmoon @dazaisgrl @vicsxwy @yyyxti @dazedflvr @ryunosnke @humsamu @ko-fi-heart @angelzai @ttaehyxx @n31ly0ung @msunknown911 @cyndaquels

#💌 . . . with love mai ⊹ ࣪ ˖#dazai x reader #bsd x reader #dazai osamu x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #dazai x you #dazai imagines #dazai x y/n #bsd x you #bsd fluff #dazai fluff #bsd x y/n

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wooataes · 9 months

Text

Bangtan’s Receptionist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Min Yoongi x Fem!Reader, implied ot7 x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Mafia AU, swearing, Death, blood, injuries, mentions of human trafficking but nothing too detailed, guns, character death.

Summary: Bangtan’s contracts are clear and concise. They are to be followed to the letter, including the most important rule, do not touch their men.

A/N: Just another generic Mafia Yoongi Drabble I couldn’t stop thinking about since Haegeum came out. 🫠 I could possibly turn this into a little oneshot series for each member, let me know if you want more!

- Tae 🥰💜✨

Request to join my taglist here!

Masterlist

Min Yoongi, in simple terms, is a straight cut business man. With his 6 other colleagues, his brothers, he runs Bangtan Industries, which on the outside seems like a clean cut courier company. On the inside however, the cargo that is transported by Bangtan Industries is more than just letters and stationary for offices. Yoongi and his boys, as the rivals know them, are extremely loyal to their men who work alongside and under them, even so far as to including in contracts that they can be terminated if any harm comes to any member of Bangtan Industries, even as far as the janitor who cleans the office on weekends. Any attack on their men is an attack to them directly, and the whole world knows of this fact.

You were hired 3 years ago by the CEO of Bangtan, Kim Namjoon to be the front of the company, their receptionist and on occasion, assistant for all 7 leaders. They’re all particularly fond of your bubbly presence in the office building, always happily greeting the bosses with a smile and providing homemade lunches on occasion, which usually is more often than not. You always make sure the boys keep their health up, not even phased by their attitudes when they spent too many hours without sleep. You’ve been the most consistent employee, and the members are more than grateful to have you.

“Good morning, Master Min!” You chirp as Min Yoongi strolls through the office door, adjusting his tie. He can’t help but give you a soft smile.

“Y/N, you know that I’d rather you call me Yoongi when its just us. It doesn’t bother me.”

“Oh, I know, I’m just way too used to it!” You grin as you place a take-away coffee cup and a wrapped toasted sandwich on the desk in front of you. “Breakfast is served.”

“You also don’t have to do that every morning too.” He lets out a huff with a grateful smile. “I hope you got your usual too. If I find out you didn’t, I’m forcing you to take your break early to go get.” Yoongi chuckles as you wave the second paper cup on your hands. He nods with finality and takes your makeshift breakfast for him and makes his way to his office.

After a quiet morning, you’re startled by a loud bang of the doors to the entrance opening and a large man in a 3 piece suit with his gaggle of men trailing in behind him, clearly armed, stalking up to your front desk.

“Good morning, sir. How can I be of help today?” You hum, the large men not phasing you.

“We’re here to see Min.” The man grumbles, hands squeezing the edge of the desk.

“Oh of course,” you smile, typing up on your computer. “Give me a few moments to see if he’s available to see anyone right now.”

You can feel the mans eyes on you as you’re typing, waiting for the response to pop up.

“Ah, I’m sorry sir, Master Min isn’t available right now. You are more than welcome to take a seat and wait until he’s ready-”

You yelp as the man reaches over, grabbing your wrist and pulling you up so you are face to face with him. You wince, his nails digging into your skin and small trickles of blood running down your arm.

“Listen here, you little bitch,” he seethes, “i have been trying to get on Min’s ass for 2 weeks about my fucking cargo I purchased from him and it still hasn’t arrived yet. If you don’t get him out here, I’m storming in there myself and getting my shit back.”

“What on earth is going on here?” Yoongi steps out from his office after hearing the commotion, adjusting the cuff on his white button up as he stalks up to the reception desk. “Ah, Mr Yang. I was waiting for you to show up.”

“Min.” Yang hissed, dropping your wrist and pushing you back into your seat, which Yoongi takes note of. “Where the fuck is my cargo? You said it would be here within the month and yet its the 27th and nothing.”

“Miss L/N.” Yoongi speaks, causing you to snap your head towards him. “Did he hurt you?” He eyes your wrist, which you’re trying to hide under the desk, clearly not very well as it is still in Yoongi’s line of vision.

“O-oh, no, Master Min. I’m fine, really.” You stutter out, giving him a smile.

“I will deal with you after I take care of business.” He murmurs, looking down at your hidden wrist, blood smearing into your blouse. “Mr Yang, if you could come inside. I do believe my receptionist shouldnt have to deal with the likes of this, wouldn’t you agree?” His tone is icy as Yang grunts, nodding his head before pushing past Yoongi and strutting through into his office with his men following behind. “Y/N, I would recommend playing sone music for the next 10 minutes, okay?” is the last thing Yoongi asks of you before closing the door behind him.

“I dont understand why you are so upset, Yang. I gave you exactly what you asked for.” Yoongi hums, sitting at his desk and watching Yang and his men stand over the desk menacingly.

“Thats bullshit and you know it, Min.” He barked, slamming his fist on the table.

“Oh, is it?” He raises his eyebrow, leaning forward and placing his chin on his hands. “Do explain why, because the way I see it, you asked for X amount of drugs and X amount of guns and ammo. Am I wrong?”

“You know what half of those drugs were code for, you ignorant shit.”

“Oh, no no no.” Yoongi chuckled, standing up, revolver in hand. “See, now, if you were implying what you think you are implying, and I truly hope you’re not, then you’ve worked with the wrong man.” He smirked, holding the gun up towards Yang.

“You see, if you read through the terms of our contract - Bangtan do not associate with anything involving trafficking women and children. I truly hope that isnt what you wanted.” Yoongi tilted his head, glaring at Yang. “Is it?”

Yang swallowed lightly, looking between his men, who all have their guns by their sides and their hands up. They know Min’s reputation. They know better than to fuck with them.

“Ah…” Yang sighed anxiously, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. “You are right. I believe I was mistaken. It appears that all our cargo was in order. Isn’t that right, boys?” He glanced between his men, who all nod shakily. “Now that we have that misunderstanding out of the way, I don’t think there’s anything else to talk about, so I will take my leave now, Min.” He turns to leave, only to freeze when the revolver now presses against his temple.

“Ah ah ah, not so fast.” Yoongi chuckles, kicking Yang’s knees out from underneath him, forcing him to kneel. “I would’ve been willing to let you go, no questions asked about what fucked up shit you’re into,” he leans down now, whispering into his ear. “but then you laid hands on my receptionist.”

Yang’s eyes widen, struggling against Yoongi’s boot digging into his legs. “What?” he breathed out.

“Did you even read the contract, Yang?” Yoongi hissed now, pressing the gun harder against his head. “Now, you are more than welcome to come in here, ranting and raving about me and the shit I do, I really couldnt give a flying fuck.. but as soon as you touch my people and my men, now theres fucking hell to pay. Rule number fucking 3 my friend. Do NOT touch my men. Do you have anything to say to defend your pathetic ass?”

“I’m sorry,” Yang blubbers out, hands shaking. “I really didn’t mean it, Min! I-I-”

“Save it for hell, Yang.” He squeezes the trigger, letting the body fall to the floor.

“Come on,” you hissed, aggressively rubbing water over the sleeve of your blouse, earphones blaring music in your ears as Yoongi directed. You’ve been scrubbing for 5 minutes and sadly nothing is working for you. At this point, you haven’t even looked at your arm, now bruising and stained with small trails of your blood.

A figure steps into your line of sight, causing you to lift your head quickly and push the headphones off your head. “Oh, Master Min!” You gasp out, seeing his white shirt splattered with blood. “Did you need me to get your shirt booked in to the dry cleaner?” You start typing up the website to get the booking made when you feel his hand take your wrist.

“Does it hurt?” Yoongi asks quietly, looking down at you through his eyelashes, letting his fingertips run along the marks Yang left.

“O-oh.. um.. a little, but nothing I cant handle!” You smile sweetly at him as he shakes his head.

“You shouldn’t have to handle it at all.” He frowns, using a damp cloth to gently wipe away the trails of your blood before taking some paper towel and drying your arm off. “I do apologize, you didn’t sign up to deal with that shit. I should have been out here waiting for Yang’s arrival.”

“Master Min,” you smiled softly, letting him tend to your arm - you knew it made him feel better when he helped Bangtan with their wounds. “Please don’t stress, I knew what I signed up for for this job.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he delicately starts placing bright pink Hello Kitty band-aids over your scratch marks.

“Dont laugh.” He grumbles, patting the band-aids down so they stick. “Jimin insisted that we got these to make Taehyung laugh whenever he was hurt.” He lied, Jimin had snuck to you that Yoongi kept his Hello Kitty band-aids with him just in case any of the girls in the office - another word for just you and you alone - were hurt - he just never got to use them until now. But you’d never tell him that you knew. Instead, you just smile and let Yoongi tend to your wounds.

It may not be the best job in the world, but at least you know your bosses have your back.

#bts angst #bts fluff #bts ot7 x reader #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi angst #yoongi mafia AU #BTS mafia AU #BTS AU #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x You #min yoongi

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m00nh1gh · 5 months

Text

OLDER

Bsf's dad!Bang Chan x reader

You knew you had a thing for older men but you didn't expect to be in this situation.

Contains: Unprotected car sex, masturbation (f), fingering, there's an age gap, but the reader is legal AND they didn't know each other when she was a minor, just a little heads up.

Word count: 3.1k.

Sleepovers at your best friend's house were always the best. You'd watch plenty of movies (or videos on YouTube) and cook together when her dad wasn't home. You had done all of that tonight and even had a photoshoot for new profile pictures and posts for Instagram. You really went all out for it, too.

Though, there was always one thing that bothered you at those sleepovers and it was the sleep part. Yuna snored a lot and it lead to insomnia for you. You'd usually be okay with it, because you never failed to bring your headphones, but this time, you had let them at your house.

You grunted for the fifth time in a whole minute before letting go of the pillow you'd been using against your ears to try and muffle the sounds, but to no avail. You decided it could be good to take a little walk in her house. You guys were alone anyway, so it wouldn't bother anyone.

You slowly opened the door of her bedroom, walked out and made sure to close it behind you. You looked around to make sure her dad wasn't here and went to the kitchen silently.

You poured yourself some water in the glass you used tonight and took a big sip of it. You could finally relax once you were away from Yuna. You didn't even know exactly why snoring irritated you so much. It made you feel bad to complain about it so much, but you just had to.

"Y/n? It's late, why aren't you sleeping?"

You jumped and put a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from yelping. You had never heard him coming in the house, even less walking in the room and leaning against the doorframe. He didn't look annoyed or bored. He was, in fact, smiling at you with a raised brow. It made you blush - as usual - and you looked down.

"Sorry, I couldn't sleep. I just came here to get some water.

- You know it's alright, you should still get some rest though," he placed his coat on the kitchen island as he walked to the fridge, which was right beside you.

His sleeves were rolled up and you couldn't help but to take a look at his arms and hands as he took a plate Yuna and you had prepared for him earlier. He placed it in the microwave for one minute and thirty seconds and then he looked back at you.

"She's snoring again, right?

- Yeah."

He laughed and suddenly, your heart started beating faster. This wasn't right. You shouldn't feel like this around him. He's your best friend's dad, for God's sake!

"I'll be awake for a while more, wanna come to my office? I could use some company.

- Oh, but I don't want to bother you…

- You won't. I really would appreciate your company. But if you wanna go back to sleep, then it's good too!" His dimples are so hot. His office outfit is so hot. You felt hot.

"No, I'm not going to sleep," you smiled at him before following his lead to his office that was on the second floor. It was the first time you steeped into it and it somehow felt intimate; Yuna had always told you her dad did not let anyone in there while he was gone and now he invited you to sit on the small couch that was settled next to a bookshelf.

"Don't tell Yuna about this, she'll start coming here without my permission," the man sighed as he sat on his chair behind his desk. He turned his computer on and looked back at you while it loaded. "You can do whatever you want, I have books there and other stuff… Just don't touch what's on my desk, not that I think you would anyway," he gave you a wink and a smile as he laid back on his chair, turning his attention back to the screen.

Some time passed since your last interaction with Christopher. You had picked a book from his shelf, but quite honestly, it was just to make yourself look busy. You surely couldn't concentrate on it when you could see him shift on his seat and hear him sigh from time to time, clicking his tongue and grunting. You didn't know what he was working on, but it surely made him frustrated.

You looked at the cover of the book since you didn't even know which one you had picked. That's how uninterested you were about it, but maybe that you should start being, because Christopher's noises made you think some stuff that you shouldn't think about.

"100 Cocktail Recipes; Spice your Drinks Up!" What the fuck?

"Is everything alright?" You opted on asking, coming to the conclusion that you wouldn't read anything tonight.

"Yeah, yeah. Just work stuff, you know?" He looked rather enthusiastic about you finally talking to him. You guessed he needed a little break from work.

"Yeah, I know," you looked around the room, suddenly feeling really awkward and regretting having talked to him.

"I guess I could take a small break," he sighed and leaned back on his chair, his hands behind his head as he looked back at his screen. "Wanna go on a little drive?

- I'd actually like that, yes," you smiled and you both got up to walk out of the office.

"Wait just a bit, I'm gonna go change into something else," you nodded and he came back a few minutes later with a t-shirt and simple jeans. The shirt was tight. You didn't even know how it didn't tear because the man is muscular. You shook your head a little to let go of your thoughts and followed Christopher to the entry door.

Once your shoes were on, he let you get out first and he locked the door behind him.

"Let's hope Yuna doesn't wake up," he chuckled and unlocked his car. You smiled and mentally prayed that she wouldn't notice you were out too, walking to the car and getting in the passenger seat as Christopher sat at the driver's seat.

"So, where are we going?

- Anywhere, it's up to you.

- I know a pretty spot somewhere. Let's get snacks and then go there. Yeah?

- Sounds good," you smiled at him and he returned it, starting the engine and driving to a small convenience store Yuna and you went to often. It was the only one that was open the whole night, so when you ever craved something late, you walked there and took whatever you needed. You even became friends with the cashier.

"Hey, Y/n!" Jeongin waved at you and nodded at Christopher. You walked to him as Christopher picked some snacks in the store.

"Is that your dad?

- No, that's Yuna's dad," you looked behind to make sure he wasn't near you and you leaned forward. "He's fucking hot."

Jeongin laughed and shook his head.

"Do you even know how old he is? Not that he looks 60, but that's still her dad.

- He's like in his half 40's, it's alright.

- What are you guys talking about?"

You jumped as Christopher put food and drinks on the counter. Jeongin stayed silent as he scanned the items and you cleared your throat.

"Are you two dating?

- What? No, no!" Jeongin finally spoke.

"That's Yuna's boyfriend," you added, side eyeing Jeongin whose cheeks reddened significantly.

"Am not.

- Not yet," you teased and Christopher laughed.

"I'll be looking forward to our first family dinner with you, then," he paid for the stuff and took the plastic bag after Jeongin put the receipt in it. You said your goodbyes and walked out with a smile still sitting on your face, thinking back to Jeongin's shyness at the mention of your best friend.

"They'd look cute together," Christopher said as you both got back in the car.

"I know, right? But they're both so oblivious that it hurts me sometimes.

- Give them time and eventually, they'll confess."

It was a ten minute drive until Christopher parked his car in an empty parking lot, which was right in front of a small river. There were benches along it and lampposts beside each one of them. It was a pretty spot indeed, but you wished you'd brought a jacket with you if you were to get out of the car.

"We can stay in the car if you want, you're not wearing something adequate to the weather," he remarked and you agreed.

He took out two bottles of water and handed one to you. You opened it and immediately took a sip. You hadn't noticed how thirsty you were, and the water felt refreshing in your throat.

"And what about you? Do you have a boyfriend?

- No, guys at school aren't for me.

- Ah, I see," it was silent for a little moment until you heard him unbuckle his seat so he could turn to you the way he wanted to. "What about older guys? You know, you're old enough to have a little age gap in relationships now."

You played with the cap of your bottle nervously, your heart pounded hard in your chest and you could hear it. "Yeah, I like older men.

- Men, huh?" He smirked and turned your head towards him with a hand placed on your cheek. "Have you tried talking to them?"

You shook your head and hardly swallowed, suddenly needing another sip of water. But, you couldn't move. Christopher looked too beautiful in the dark of the night, with only a small amount of light that hit the side of his face. His lips looked extra kissable and they were still a little wet due to his drink and you felt yourself getting needy.

"No, I haven't.

- Then talk to me," he leaned close to your ear, you could feel his hot breath on your neck and you closed your eyes, "Am I old enough for you?

- Yeah," you whispered, and you swore you could hear his smirk. He looked back at you, and it was hard for you not to look away. He was way too intimidating for you to hold eye contact.

"I knew you'd be a good girl for me," he kissed you shortly once, and then the second one was deep. His lips- God, his lips felt so good against yours. They were so soft and fit perfectly with yours, driving you insane and you undid your seatbelt to get closer to him. Christopher groaned lowly as his tongue entered your mouth, and his hand found its way to your thigh, slowly hiking up your shorts. Well, as much as he could.

You shivered at his touch and softly bit on his lower lip, making a moan escape from his lips and that was it: now you were wet for sure and he broke away from the kiss, looking at you with lustful eyes.

"Tell me what you want," he said, his voice deeper than usual.

"I just want you," you admitted, placing a hand on his chest. It trailed down to the end of his shirt.

"Then I'll show you how much I want you too," he reclined his seat a little and gestured for you to come sit on his lap. You obeyed and immediately felt him through his pants. He was already half hard for sure.

"So fucking beautiful," he took a strand of your hair between his fingers, then putting his hand at the back of your head to pull you closer so he could kiss you. He slid his hand down your waist, making its way under your shorts. His other hand cupped one of your boobs through your tank top. You whimpered and put your hands around his biceps, feeling his muscles flexing under them.

His lips were so rough against yours that it added an edge of excitement to the moment. You were completely lost in this touch, his hand was back out of your shorts and was settled on your hip. His other one was sliding down your sides, feeling your curves.

"You're going to drive me insane," you hummed against his lips and rolled your hips a little, making him groan and pull you away from the kiss. "Touch yourself, baby," he commanded, moving one hand to grab your ass and squeezing it.

"What?" You asked with a small voice, unsure of what he meant by this.

"I want to see you touching yourself," he clarified, his voice as rough as his touch. A hand under your top now, he found your nipple and teasingly brushed against it. You reacted to it, pulling yourself closer to him, and you nodded, spreading your thighs a little. You slid a hand under your shorts and panties, reaching your clit immediately.

His hand finally pinched your nipple and it earned him a moan from you. "That's it, baby," he breathed. "You look so fucking hot."

You hummed again, rubbing small circles on your clit as you absorbed everything he told you.

"So obedient. You like being my good girl? Like touching yourself for me?

- Yeah," you moaned as your hips bucked up, looking down at him.

"Tell me more," he demanded. He wanted you to beg for him, to show him just how much power he held over you.

"I like being your good girl, only yours," you said, pulling the fabric of your panties and shorts to the side so he could have a glimpse at what was going on under your clothes.

"You're such a tease," he teasingly traced a finger along your wet folds. "Look at how wet you are for me."

You whimpered and stopped touching yourself for him to take over. Your hands went back to his biceps.

"Do you like being teased?" He asked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He continued teasing your pussy, ignoring how you tried getting away due to how sensitive you had gotten.

"No," you closed your thighs around his hand.

"Yes, you do," he said, leaning in to kiss you like a hungry man. His free hand squeezed your breasts, pinching your hardened nipple as he started rubbing on your clit. You moaned against his lips, spreading your thighs for him to touch you better as you tugged at the sleeves of his shirt.

With a low chuckle, he pushed your panties to the side more and slid a finger into your sloppy hole, immediately finding your g spot. "Want me to make you cum?" He assumed you were already ready for a second finger, so he slid another one inside you.

"Yes, please. Please," you breathed out, getting used to his fingers inside you.

"That's it," he slowly pumped his fingers in and out of you. "Feels good?" He asked, placing hot kisses over your neck as he continued with the right amount of pressure and speed.

"Good," you agreed, lifting his shirt up a little so you could have a look at his toned abs, finally touching the skin. That made him groan again, his fingers digging deeper into you as you touched every inch of his chest. Once your hand reached lower, his hips grinded against it slightly, and you didn't waste another second before unzipping his pants and cupping his dick through his boxers.

He moaned, his hips grinding a little more against your palm. "You're so hot,"

You moaned when his finger brushed against a certain spot inside you and it made you squeeze his cock a little. He lifted himself up a little so you could slide his pants and boxers down a little. Christopher's breath hitched a little and his eyes locked with yours, filled with lust and anticipation. "Fuck."

"Want you inside me, Chris. Please?" You asked, pumping his dick slowly to spread his precum all over his shaft.

"Alright, baby," he hissed a little at your touch. "If that's what you want. But I can't guarantee I'll be gentle," he warned, guiding himself to your entrance once your hand had left him. You nodded and pushed yourself down on his dick a little so his tip was already inside you. You moaned and put a hand on the back of the seat for support as you sunk down painfully slowly.

Christopher lost some of his patience and grabbed your hips harshly, thrusting into you sharply without warning. You gasped and threw your head back, feeling the stretch of his dick clearly. It hurt for sure, but you didn't say anything. He knew to give you some time to get used to him. He brought you closer and started kissing your neck. "Told you I can't be gentle," he mumbled as he softly nibbled at your skin.

"Can move," you said, rolling your hips against him. He moaned and guided you, giving a small slap at your ass as you rode him. It was your first time, but by Christopher's moans, you guessed you did good, and you found the hem of his shirt to tug at it.

He got the hint and quickly got it off, throwing it at the back of the car, completely forgetting about it and giving his complete attention to you. Your hands quickly found their way to his upper chest, pawing at the skin. "Fuck, Chris," you moaned against his ear.

His eyes rolled back as you touched him and moaned in his ear that way, picking up the pace of your movements as he guided you on him. "Yeah, feel good, baby? Like having sex with older men? They're better at it, right? They have more experience… I know what's good for you," his lips trailed down your collarbones, and you moved so he could mouth your boob through your top. He softly bit, making your back arch and you lost control of yourself, becoming unstable on top of him.

He cursed and held your hips up, now he was the one pounding up into you at a rapid and rough pace. Everytime his pelvis met your clit, it sent waves of pleasures throughout your whole body and you felt yourself coming closer to your orgasm.

"Shit, gonna cum," he said in a whisper almost and you moaned in response. "Gonna cum soon too, baby?

- Yeah," you agreed and rubbed your clit as he continued thrusting into you. Both of your movements became sloppy and right when he was about to release, he pulled out of you and fucked his own fist until he came all over his stomach. With that vise in front of you, your orgasm hit you fast and your hips stuttered above him as he was still riding his own orgasm out.

"Fuck," you whimpered and collapsed on him. You were both panting heavily and he was now stroking your hair softly.

"Y/n, you're fucking crazy," he said and you laughed.

___

One of my fav chapters frfr

#Spotify #skz #stray kids #skz imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids x reader #skz smut #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #christopher bang #bang chan #bang chris

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celeryb1tch · 2 months

Text

how you and spencer meet!

receptionist!reader starts a new job at the BAU, and a very handsome coworker shows her around!

content: meet cute, fem!reader, pov you’re an idiot who’s sensitive to blood, fainting for the plot and not in the way it works in real life lol, confident-ish but pretty canon compliant mid-seasons spencer!

—

the FBI certainly isn’t the place for squeamish little pansies…

at least, that’s what you were told in your interview. and you had nodded diligently, ignoring the lump in your throat as you thought about how you almost fainted the last time you had bloodwork done. but as a secretary, how bad could it get, right? you tried to assure yourself of this when you got the job offer.

on a brisk friday morning, you were wandering through the FBI Academy campus in an attempt to find your office. everyone around you seemed to be in a hurry, and no one had given you the time of day when you attempted to ask for directions. so fifteen minutes before your first day started, opposed to the promised half hour, you entered the NSAVC building with your tail between your legs.

the bullpen was empty. you had expected to be met by a trainer, or perhaps the person whose job you would be taking over, but you instead faced a grouping of empty desks. as you peered around the open area, your eyes landed on a conference room with large windows, allowing you to see a group of agents. with a sigh of relief, you headed up the stairs and knocked on the door lightly before letting yourself in.

before you was a circular table seating five people, all with their eyes trained directly on you. “hi!” you chirped. “i was looking for-“

“i think you’re lost, miss. students shouldn’t be allowed access into this department,” demanded a man in a full suit, who seemed to be in charge.

your smile faded as you saw the various displeased faces looking back at you. “oh no, i’m not…” in an attempt to avoid eye contact, you raised your sight to the opposite wall, projector casting images of open wounds and a dismembered corpse. and in only a second, your vision was going black.

—

the white of fluorescent bulbs seared even through to the inside of your eyelids, but despite this you still blinked a few times to shake the disorientation and open your eyes.

your legs were eased up in the air with a chair, brand new pencil skirt hiked slightly up your thighs. you felt the texture of carpet against your back through your blouse and the cool of ice on your forehead. your first instinct was to sit up and reorient yourself, which you tried to no avail.

“hey, hey, easy,” an unidentifiable voice said soothingly. you scanned your surroundings, finding a man with chin length chestnut hair in your periphery who couldn’t be much older than you. he was crouched beside you, apple juice box in hand and concern in his eyes. god, his eyes were pretty, you thought. like pools of dappled sunlight.

it took you a few seconds to recognize him as one of the displeased members of the conference room, and the previous events rushed back to you, bringing a flush to your cheeks. “i am so sorry, sir. um, agent. detective? there was a misunderstanding, and that was so unprofessional of me.”

he had a small smile playing on his lips as he scanned your face. he seemed to be entertained by the fact that you were so flustered, letting you finish rambling before he replied. “doctor spencer reid, and no worries at all. a freeze response to gore is a fairly common reaction. while you were unconscious we were able to identify you as the new front desk secretary, we thought you were starting next week so we weren’t expecting anyone.”

you visibly relaxed at his explanation. it seemed possible that you wouldn’t be fired on the spot for this. you took the hand he outstretched to you, helping you up from the ground slowly. he offered you the juice box, to which you shook your head. “i’m okay, but thank you.”

“i would recommend it. after fainting it’s likely that your blood sugar is low, and fruit juice is packed with natural sugars that will allow you to feel better almost immediately.”

“doctor’s orders, huh?” you joked, to which he cracked a smile again.

“i’m not exactly that kind of doctor. but yes, i do strongly advise it.”

so you took the juice box, and spencer walked you down the few steps from the office you’d been laying in toward the bullpen. suddenly you were filled with anxiety once again as the faces you had seen minutes ago holding inconvenienced stares now looked on with concern.

the man from before who was so clearly the leader of this operation approached, offering a hand to shake. “supervisory special agent aaron hotchner, i apologize for the misunderstanding.”

you winced away from him slightly, worried that any further mistake would result in you losing the position you had yet to start. “thank you, sir. i am so sorry for interrupting a meeting like that, and fainting. that wasn’t exactly the first impression i wanted.”

he had an easy smile, that of a reassuring father. “i can assure you that no punitive action will be taken, if that’s what you’re concerned about. if we knew you were coming today we would not have left graphic case evidence up on the screen.”

oh, thank god. you exhaled deeply, feeling the tightness in your chest subside. you stepped back toward spencer, whose gaze had never left you. “what should i be doing now? i was never informed of what my training would be, not to mention where my desk is.”

“linda’s out sick today, which is why we thought you weren’t coming until monday,” said the woman sat in the desk rightmost of you. her hair was pure black, with straight, blunt bangs that suited her well.

“we don’t exactly have training for you today without your predecessor here, so i thought you could shadow my agents to familiarize yourself with the office. and i’m happy to show you to your desk, but since you’ll mostly be seeing our faces daily, we should get introductions out of the way first,” agent hotchner said.

you glanced at spencer beside you almost unconsciously, in search of reassurance. despite knowing him for about three minutes, he was the closest thing you had to a friend or ally so far. and seeming to sense this, he shot you a smile that crinkled the edges of his eyes. you felt your anxiety melt a little, and you realized that everything was going to be okay.

—

by lunchtime, you had your things at your desk and nothing to do without a computer login or training. you remembered that hotchner had suggested shadowing someone, but the idea of asking one of the agents made your stomach churn. they sat only a dozen feet away from you, laughing and bantering as if they’d known each other all their lives. who were you to butt into their dynamic? so you sat twiddling your thumbs for the rest of the lunch hour, peeking at the group occasionally to confirm that you hadn’t spontaneously gained the confidence to approach.

spencer specifically appeared to be deep in thought once he got back to work. you thought that it would be best to shadow him if possible, given you were most familiar with the tall brunette, but you really had no business to interrupt his work. still, you worked up the courage to advance to his desk.

“would you like some more coffee, dr. reid? i could go get some for you, you seem pretty busy,” you offered in an attempt at nonchalance. but uncertainty and regret crept up quickly when you received no reply.

emily prentiss, the previously unnamed woman with dark hair, noticed the interaction. with a slight grin on her lips, she interjected. “don’t take it personally. he gets so into his case readings, it’s hard for him to pick up on anything else.”

“hey, pretty boy,” cooed derek morgan from another desk. “someone’s trying to talk to you.”

spencer lifted his head reluctantly, eyes following a moment later. he looked dazed, not quite focused on anything in particular. “sorry, what?”

“i noticed your coffee was almost empty, would you like some more?” you asked meakly. it took everything in you not to run and hide of embarrassment.

he finally registered the question, shaking his head fervently. “no, i couldn’t ask you to do that. i’m perfectly capable of refilling my own coffee, but while i do i could show you the kitchenette? it’s crucial to the operation of the office.”

and with a nod, the two of you headed to the tiny kitchen adjacent to the bullpen. you stood slightly out of the way as spencer placed his mug on the counter, refilling the drip coffee maker for a fresh batch. you watched him card his fingers through his hair, looking around casually.

“so, the kitchen is important why?” you inquired, head tilting slightly to emphasize your interest.

spencer finally met your eyes again, letting out a little breezy laugh. “oh, it’s not. i noticed that you were having trouble potentially asking one of us to show you around, so i thought this was an opportune moment.”

you flushed slightly at the confession, apparently caught red-handed in your effort. “wow, you’re pretty good at reading people. or was i just that transparent?”

“is that a joke?” his eyebrows knotted as he looked at you, no air of humour on his face.

you stared back, equally confused. “am i supposed to know that? do you have a particularly well known judgement of character?”

“well yes, you’re in the behavioural analysis unit.”

and with that, you were sure that you had damaged your ego and reputation in this job position irrevocably.

—

after a brief explanation of the lack of background information provided when accepting the job, spencer assured you that he wouldn’t tell the others. he expressed his surprise that the FBI hadn’t been as diligent as they usually are, and you had to agree.

“i mean, i told them that this was my first job after graduation. i was doing my field placement two months ago, and that was in a law firm!” you stifled a giggle, feeling at ease leaning against the kitchen counter with spencer taking occasional sips of his coffee.

“that’s astounding. they hired me young, but i’d argue that i was overqualified for the position,” he admitted. “you, however…”

you gasped in feigned offence, rolling your eyes. “hey, i learned a lot in that law office! i can photocopy anything you need me to, and schedule dry cleaning for same-day pickup.”

it had been well over a half hour at this point, with you and spencer getting gradually closer until your clothed elbow rubbed against his. no one else had come in, until mid-reply spencer was greeted by agent aaron hotchner himself, who happened to also need a fresh cup of coffee.

“reid, i see that you’ve taken it upon yourself to let our new team member shadow you. but maybe you should show her some places other than the coffee counter?” he suggested with a raised eyebrow.

spencer looked caught, eyes flitting from you to his boss. your boss too, you supposed. “of course. sorry hotch, we got a little caught up.”

“i can see that. as long as you get your files finished by end-of-day, it’s really none of my business.”

“yes, sir,” spencer yelped. he gestured rapidly for you to follow him, exiting the kitchen to return to his desk.

you watched him put his mug down and shuffle some papers around before his eyes lit up in recognition. “i actually do need you to photocopy this for me,” he admitted shyly.

“of course!” you replied, just before your smile dropped. “you actually never showed me where the copier is.”

spencer chuckled with you, getting up from his chair once again. “no problem, i’ll show you.”

and as the two of you began walking down the hallway together, the others laughed upon hearing, “by the way, would you like to go for dinner with me once we clock out? i have a lot more to tell you.”

derek grinned. “i didn’t know that kid had the balls.”

—

(hi guys!! thank you for all of the love on my first spencer post!! i’m having so much fun writing these! psa tho: as i said before, i’m a lesbian i just have a weird thing for this one particular fictional man- so if u follow me, pls expect woman-centred content mostly!!)

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #molly’s!

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milesandcorysupermacy · 4 months

Note

miles with a hello kitty partner???

SURE, POOK! Btw I didn't know what miles u were talking abt so I just did 42 because I thought the personality contrast would be cuter, enjoy!

---------------x-o-x-o---------------------------

"YOU LOOK GOOD IN PINK"

42!Miles x Hello-Kitty-Black!Reader

Genre: Sugar, spice, and everything nice 🤩

Warnings: Nun, just super cute!

Summary: Your mom finally let's Miles have a sleepover with you, the two of you participate in some hello kitty activities, but not without some convincing!

Miles has always had a soft spot for you, ever since your first day at Visions. You came in 10 minutes late, (You were trying to figure out how to put your hello kitty claw clip into your braids) and sat in the only chair available, the one next to Miles. Everyone else was so afraid to sit next to him after that incident with his dad, they all treated him like he was a ticking time bomb. Like even the slightest touch or wrong thing said would cause him to go off on anyone or anything. But you, you were different.

You sat down next to him, your triple pink dunks lightly tapping against the floor as you sat down. You turned to your left and saw a brown-skinned boy with braids. He was lightly tapping his pencil on the desk to the steady beat of 'Stay Ready (What A Life)' by Jhené Aiko & Kendrick Lamar. "Hey, I know that song." You gently say, trying to make conversation. The boy looked over at you, starstruck. If anyone else would've said that, he'd roll his eyes without missing a beat. But your pleasant smile with glossed lips, your eyelashes gently fluttering, and your shared music taste drew him in. He gave a flirtatious smile, turned to you, and said... "Really? Well I wanna know sum', what's your name, mama?"

Ever since that day, Miles never left your side. That was something you took notice of, but so did your mom. She never let the two of you have a sleepover, when you asked why she always said the same thing.

"That boy never leaves your side, in 9 months we're all gonna need jobs on the side."

This constantly made you roll your eyes, not every teenage girl is the same! But, no matter what you said, she never thought otherwise. So, you and Miles made a Google Slideshow with reasons why you two should have a sleepover. To your suprise, your mom actually agreed under one condition, it had to be at your house. So, with a little bit of convincing Rio, Miles was making his way over. As you were thinking about what the two of you were gonna do, he texted you.

My Big Baby 💞

Outside, mami.

Ok, coming down rn.

Read

You excitedly hopped out of your hello kitty, pink colored bed sheets. The pink LED lights illuminated your room, making you subconsciously even more excited. You speed walked out of your room, catching your mom's attention.

"Your little friend must be here."

"Mom, he's my boyfriend and has been for 10 months. But, yes he is here!"

You say before clapping excitedly and opening the front door to reveal Miles standing there with a pleasant smile on his face, plus two bouquets of eternal roses. One was a pink and white bouquet that resembles hello kitty, and the other with royal blue and white roses to match your Mother's kitchen.

"Hey."

He said before stepping into your home with you closing the door behind him, wearing the hello kitty slippers that he bought for you to wear around the house. He handed you your bouquet and you squealed excitedly, taking the flowers from his hand.

"Ahhh! Thank you, Miles!"

You say, hugging him tightly. He smiles as you pull him into an embrace, happy with your fulfillment.

"No problem, Cariño."

He walked past you, approaching your mom with the flowers.

"These are for you, Ms. L/N."

He said before handing over the 2nd bouquet to your mother. She took the flowers, but not before a lecture.

"Thank you, Miles. This bribe won't work, you still can't sleep in her bed."

Miles chuckled at that.

"No bribe, just an appreciation gift for allowing me to come over."

He said slyly, giving her his most charming smile. You started walking over to him, intertwining your fingers.

"We're gonna go in my room, mom."

"Ok, I'm ordering pizza."

You and Miles walk into your room, excitedly. He admires your whole room aesthetic.

"Mami, this room is somehow more pink than the last time I saw it."

"Well, atleast it's not depressing like yours."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He said before cooking his head to the side and putting his hands on his hips, something his mom also does a lot.

"Well, mine has color. Your room is just dark purple and black."

You say, also putting your hands on your hips playfully.

"Well, atleast mine doesn't have a cartoon character cult."

He says, before motioning over to your collection of hello kitty plushies and mean mugging you playfully.

"You do, a cult full of random action figures that haven't been opened yet, and just sit on a shelf collecting dust."

"First of all, those are limited edition, collectibles. And you know that, Miss Thang."

He says, holding a finger up and shaking his head side to side sassily. You two burst out into laughter before sitting on your bed. You checked the time and saw it was 6:51 pm. Which reminded you that it was about time to put on the matching pajamas you bought for the two of you.

"OH! Miles?"

"Yes, mama?"

He replied with his arm wrapped around you and tv remote in hand. You stood up, walking over to your dresser, opening your pajama drawer.

"I know you tell me to never buy you anything unless it's your birthday or Christmas, but I saw this and I just had to get it because it was just so cute, plu-"

"Where is this going?"

He said cutting you off, by the way you were trying to convince him he could already tell he wasn't going to like this suprise. You pulled out 2 pink pairs of hello kitty pajamas with kitty's face on them and red hearts. Along with that, there was 2 white shirts with kitty's face on them. Miles looked at the outfits in disgust.

"No."

"C'mon!"

You whined.

"No, there's no way you're gonna make me wear those pink pants right now."

"Fine, then I'll make you wear them later."

Miles opened his mouth to speak, but you decided to respond before he could add a sassy remark.

"Right now, let's do these face masks!"

You say, holding up 2 hello kitty face masks. Smiling, before walking over to him and grabbing his hand. Dragging him into the bathroom with you. Once you two make it into the room, you show him your routine.

"Ok, so first we're going to cleanse our faces, then, we're going to add toner, next a cucumber, hello kitty face mask, next a serum, and finally moisturizer."

"And what exactly is all this stuff gonna do? All I use is cleanser and moisturizer."

"Miles, I love you. But, shut up."

"Yes, ma'am."

He said, before holding his arms up in surrender. You playfully roll your eyes and squirt some cleanser onto both of your hands. You turn on the sink and lather up the cleanser on your hands, Miles does the same. You two lather up your faces and turn off the sink.

"Ok, what'd you say was next? This tone stuff?"

"Yes, Miles. The rosewater toner."

You grabbed the toner and sprayed it 3 times on your face and once on your neck. You began to rub it in with closed eyes. Miles grabs the toner and you hear the sound of the bottle spraying 7 times before you told Miles to stop.

"Miles! That's enough, jeez. That thing was like $28."

"You act like I can buy you another one, I don't care if it was $2,800."

You smirk at his confidence before grabbing the hello kitty masks.

"Ok, grab one!"

You say excitedly, before Miles sighed.

"You're so lucky I love you."

"I am."

You say before kissing his cheek, making him smile. You two take the masks out and he asks a question.

"How long is this supposed to stay on?"

"The label says 15 minutes."

"But it's cold."

He whines.

"Aw, do you want me to put it on you, my big baby?"

You coo.

"Yea."

He says before sitting on the toilet lid. You put your face mask on in the mirror, making sure that it's on right. After yours is on, you make your way over to Miles, straddling his waist before fully taking the mask out the package. You apply it to his face, but not without him squirming.

"Be still."

"It's cold!"

"It won't be in like 2 minutes."

"That's too long!"

You rolled your eyes and finished applying his mask after an extra 30 seconds of him whining.

"You wanna take a photo?"

"Sure, whatever makes you happy, mami."

You pull your phone with a hello kitty case out of your pink legging pocket. You open Instagram and take a picture, adding the caption 'Sleepover day with Bae! @milesdontgaf'.

You two walk into your room and watch an episode of TV to pass the time, guess what show.....Hello kitty! You two watched a 15 minute compilation of season 5 on YouTube. By the time the video was over the two of you walked back into the bathroom to take off the face mask. You told miles to rub the extra serum.

"Now it's time for the Vitamin C serum."

"World's longest skincare routine."

Miles muttered, you slapped his chest.

"Ow."

You applied 4 drops, one to each cheek, one to your neck, and one to your forehead. You did the same to Miles because he whined about not knowing how to do it (🙄). You both applied the moisturizer with SPF 15 and finished in time for dinner. Your mom told you that the pizza was here and you and Miles rushed down the stairs. You saw 2 boxes, one pizza for you and Miles and one pizza for your mom. You two grabbed your pizza, 2 apple juices, thanked your mom, and ran upstairs.

You opened the box to reveal a Hello Kitty shaped pizza. You gasped, squealing from excitement. Miles shook his head smiling at your reaction.

"Miles, baby! Look!"

"I see, mama."

You two ate the pizza and drank your juices while watching hello kitty. Once the two of you finished and threw away the pizza box, you got an idea.

"So, you still don't want to put on those hello kitty pajamas?"

"Y/N, no. I'm not wearing that pink shi-"

You waited outside the bathroom door with your hello kitty pajamas for Miles. You had convinced forced him to put his pajamas on. Once Miles walked out the bathroom, you smiled, hugging him and kissing his cheeks. You were so thankful that he would do anything to make you happy.

"See, you look good in pink!"

"Don't push it."

--------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @we-loveebony, @im-miss-simp

#miles morales #across the spiderverse #atsv #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales fanfiction #42 miles morales #miles morales earth 42 #miles molares #miles morales x black!reader #miles morales x reader #prowler miles #hello kitty #hello kitty lover #pink

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anothermansjeans · 16 days

Text

Closer

a.h x f!reader

cw: some slight angst (blink and you miss it)

wc: 1k

prompts

a/n: hiiiii!!! this is based on this request! sorry for taking a bit, i've been swamped with homework. i have one more in my inbox but im still taking requests! you can uses any of the prompt lists linked or just send me any request you have!

Hotch had a problem. He didn't necessarily want this problem, but he also didn't want to fight it. He had started to develop feelings for his coworker– who is also his subordinate– Y/N.

It started pretty recently. The team got back from a case and he told Jessica he would need her to watch Jack for a couple more hours. Unfortunately, that couldn't work for her, so he asked if she could talk to the babysitting agency and get someone in before she left. All was well when he last heard from her, and he was told that if they can't get someone out, they'll call him.

That’s why when his personal phone rang, he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering “this is the one time I’m wishing they’re calling about my car’s extended warranty.” Alas, he picked up the phone and saw it was the agency he used, and they couldn't get anyone out this late in his area. He was so frustrated, he wanted to cry, which was more common than not recently.

After hanging up, he was so lost in his head, preparing to head out and take his work home with him (he never liked doing this, too scared Jack may see something he shouldn't). He didn't realize his door was opened the entire time, and he certainly didn't realize that Y/N had popped her head in with a mildly concerned look on her face.

“Hey, I was just heading out… are you okay?”

He jumped the tiniest bit, and looked up at her. “Uh, yeah. I’m actually leaving too.” He stood up and grabbed the pile of files in his desk, preparing to shove them in his briefcase, when he looked up for a millisecond to see the confused look on her face. “Jessica can't watch Jack for the rest of the night and there are no babysitters available this late of notice. I have to bring work home.”

Hotch didn't know what to expect from his oversharing, but it definitely wasn't the next words out of Y/N’s mouth. “I can watch him!” He looked at her. She looked at him. Y/N suddenly laughed to herself and shook her head. “Sorry, I meant to say if you need me to, since I’m already heading out, I can watch him until you're finished up here. I know how you feel about bringing those files home.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that–”

“You're not asking!” She promptly cut him off. “Trust me, Hotch, I want to do this for you. The sooner you say okay, the sooner I can go relieve Jessica.”

He numbly nodded, putting his briefcase on his desk. “Yes, thank you. I owe you for this. I’ll let Jessica know and I promise I won't be too long so that you can enjoy the rest of your night.”

And it was that simple of a solution. He did his work, you watched Jack, and when he got home, he was able to witness you putting his kid to bed. It was sweet (beyond sweet, really), and since then, whenever the team got back from a case and he needed extra help with Jack, Y/N would volunteer without being prompted. He loved seeing the little moments Y/N had with Jack, so much so that he would sometimes come home a little early (he could survive the extra work on a night Jessica was babysitting) and offer to have Y/N stay for dinner, which turned into bedtime for Jack, and then a little wine after he was asleep.

He didn't know when the feelings began to develop exactly, but once he noticed the excitement of going home to not only Jack but also Y/N, well he wanted to put a little bit of space between them. He wishes it was a gradual thing– really, he does– but he kind of just started declining her offers, making sure to book a babysitter hours (sometimes days) prior so that there were no issues with someone watching Jack. He hadn't taken into account what Y/N would be feeling about this shift, and he wasn't sure why he was so surprised when she marched into his office after a case; a time where they would normally arrange for her to watch Jack.

“Did I do something? Did I hurt Jack, or offend you, or literally anything wrong?”

“Excuse me?” His head whipped up from the papers under him.

“We had a routine. Something happened to disrupt the routine. I just need to know what I did wrong.” She looked sad. That was something Hotch didn't see on her often.

“You didn't do anything wrong.” He placed his pen down and stood up, closing his office door and standing in front of Y/N. “I have this problem.” He didn't know how else to state it, but he had to say something now or she’d think that his problems are her fault (and he would say a hundred times over that this was never her fault). “I don’t want to feel things for you but at the same I have this need to be near you 24/7.”

Eyes wide and deep breaths, the only thing Y/N could utter out was “what?”

Hesitating, Hotch stepped a little closer. “After seeing you with Jack and spending more time with you I…” he scoffed and shook his head “this is so juvenile.”

“Keep going, please.” Her response was quick. She needed him to finish.

“I want to be near you all of the time and I got scared of that– we work together, I’m your unit chief, I shouldn't be feeling things the way I do so I just… I pulled away.”

The silence was suffocating for the minute Y/N took to digest all that was said, but after what felt like years to Hotch, he felt her hand tentatively touch his, gently raking her nails down his palm before interlocking their fingers. “You don't have to… pull away.” The shy look was turning into one of awe. “We can… be around each other more often. See what happens. If you want.”

Maybe Hotch didn't have a problem. He felt a warmth spread through his body at the mere thought of being closer to Y/N, to seeing what happens with them, to a future. He definitely didn't have a problem.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotch #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x fem!reader

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c0ffinshit · 7 months

Text

I Can See You (11th Doctor x Reader) Smut Oneshot

a/n: welcome to the first part of my short story collection called “The Doctor Will See You Now.” i hope you all as excited as i am! word count: 3,833 warnings: teachers au, fluff, soulmate au (if you squint), little dialogue, age gap, mentions of sex and masturbation before the smut, praise kink, vanilla cunnilingus

"And we kept everything professional, but something's changed, it's something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it's best that we move fast and keep quiet." - Taylor Swift

1956, somewhere towards the tail end of England, a doctor sits at his desk, looking over at the same pieces of papers. Homework from his first batch of classes. He puts his hands on his face. Sure, every teacher should be worried about the brilliance of their students. But that wasn’t what he was worried about. He was apprehensive about his newly hired teaching assistant, (Y/N) (L/N).

He thought you were a bright young woman, keeping your hair neat and all your clothes clean and ironed. He always wanted to keep his distance from you. So he doesn’t repeat what happened with his past teaching assistant. The Doctor wanted a clean record. He pushes away from his desk in his chair, finally getting ready to go home. But his mind began to wander.

Earlier in the day, you spoke with him about a future project, seeing who would be willing to participate and pass it. When the end of the conversation came to a head, you giggled at one of his attempts at a joke. You pull at your skirt a little. He notices more of your thigh, including a small accidental flash of your undergarments. It just happened. He didn’t want to make you more nervous than you seemed, so he didn’t speak to anyone about it. A secret he could have all to himself. Something to ruin with his own sick and twisted imagination. Innocent, turned dirty by his own hand.

You sat alone in your apartment, as you always did. There wasn’t much to do when all you could do was think about that Doctor. His smile, the way his eyes would focus on you when you spoke. It was always those little things that drove you mad about him. You began to wonder what he thought of you. Did he think you were pretty? Did he want you to wear shorter skirts again?

You thought about spying on your neighbors again.

You pull the blanket closer to your chest as you get up and listen to your neighbors, an older married couple. Typically, you would study them silently, a cup to the wall, taking notes of everything they did together. Tonight wasn’t any different. The wife was cooking dinner for him, kissing and making one another laugh. Them being as intimate as you imagined yourself with the Doctor.

A few months before you met him, you studied day and night. Your dream of working at a college was on the horizon. When the day finally came, you walked up to the stage and accepted your fate as an English professor. As you looked for jobs, your heart began to sink deeper and deeper into your chest. It didn’t seem like anyone was looking to hire a fresh-out-of-college English teacher anywhere.

Suddenly, you find a job at a college as a teaching assistant. An assistant? You went to school for six years, and the only job available at a college was a teaching assistant. With a defeated sigh, you called the college and scheduled an interview. After said interview, it took them a few days to finally get back to you about the job. Once you opened your mailbox for the fourth time that week, a letter accepting you into their system greeted you. It contains the usual things, even saying you would be working with the Doctor, the most respectable man in the institution’s history.

The Doctor quietly shut the door of his pearl-white car. After hopping from century to decade to millennium, he thought it would be time to slow down and get serious about what he wanted. Sex wasn’t crucial, but the Doctor wanted something to call his own. Having a lover in his life wasn’t that important either, but he wanted you more than anything. The Doctor never wanted someone that bad before. He was tired of running, walking, and time-traveling. A hot cup of tea and you were all he needed.

The key turns with his hand, turning the car on with a small ding. He wanted to go anywhere but back to the TARDIS. The TARDIS was lonely and quiet, filled with knobs and future technology. The only other place he knew was your apartment. Your apartment had old books, statues of pilgrim girls, and a TV that didn’t have many channels. The place smelled of old wax long melted away, and cracks in the plaster lined almost every wall. Your apartment felt like it could cave in at a moment’s notice. But in his mind, he would rather spend the rest of his night in a place with thin walls and the same few reruns on the same few channels than a place he called home for so many years.

So that settles it. The Doctor backs out of his spot in the large parking lot, turning left towards the exit gate.

You had actually met the Doctor long before you had ever realized. When you were in your later high school years, the new science teacher had gone missing a few days before the school was set to open for classes. The Doctor had been on his own for a while by this point. Amelia and Rory had died at the dreadful hands of a weeping angel, unable to enjoy any of his new misadventures. Before Clara, the Doctor knew that the absence of Rory and Amelia would send him down a path of risky choices and, ultimately, his own new pain to heal, as a fresh wound would cross over a scar. In almost a manic state, he thought he could pull off being a high school teacher. But not any teacher, your new science teacher. A part of him thought this would be an easy way to find a new companion one way or another. Whether it be a teacher looking for a new way to spice up their life or a young woman looking for a new boy to fawn over. The Doctor was a shoo-in for the job with mature teaching ability but with a kind, funnier side, keeping the topics of biology and chemistry light with jokes and foxy comments.

One of the few things he remembers about that year was when you talked to your friends. Quiet whispers during class would quickly become loud, bombastic laughter the minute the bell rang. He only listened when the conversation would turn to your secret crush on him. Your friends nudged you during group work whenever his eye lingered on you. The way they giggled when he made a vaguely inappropriate joke. But that was your friends; you were a different story. It was clear to him that you were smart, just purposely failing for one reason or another. Whenever he would pull you aside to speak about it, your eyes would glaze over as you watched his eyes sink into yours. The minute the conversation ended, you would run off to hide until your next class. You wondered why you couldn’t be normal about him. The Doctor was two years older than you, or so he said. But it could be that wrong, could it?

Your hands continued to pull up the blanket, pulling it over your head. At this point, you didn’t want to be reminded how much you desired the Doctor. How badly you wanted him to wrap his arms around you or whisper sweet nothing to you as your eyes fluttered shut. Still, you can’t help but listen. The couple is eating dinner peacefully, talking about their days at work. But out of your window, you see the Doctor’s car pull up just outside your building.

As he finally pulls up to your apartment building, he sees you with your orange blanket over your head, leaning against the wall. The Doctor glances up, watching you and thinking about the massive mistake he is making. The wind pushes his hair out of his face.

‘This can’t be the right thing to do.’ He thought as he opened the car door anyway. He continues looking up. That’s when your eyes meet his. You move away from the wall and walk to the window, looking down at him.

Panic sets in. As if you had summoned him using your mind into your apartment’s parking lot. The second you look back out the window, the Doctor is gone. The panic feeling suddenly gets worse. You sit back down on the couch, trying to avoid the future sound of a doorbell ringing. Your ears lead back to your neighbors, still eating and laughing.

Your doorbell buzzes, followed shortly by another buzz. The last thing you needed was a big, grand scene in your loud apartment building. The Doctor stands outside your door, waiting. He thought about how impatient he would be if this were any other person. If there’s one thing the Doctor knew about being alive, it was that time moved so much slower than ever. But as he thought, the Doctor realized the faint feeling of calm whenever he thought about you. That’s why he could never get mad at you for not answering the door. The two hearts in his chest beat like one. As the Doctor fidgeted with his fingers, soft rain crawled against the glass of your window, still not letting the poor man in.

‘This is a bad idea, right?’ The Doctor thinks as he opens the door to your apartment building and walks up each step.

The Doctor knocks on the door, waiting for you to answer. It's not like he can leave you after scaring you like that. The Doctor almost doubts you will answer the door, leaving him in his soaking wet clothes. He shakes his head. You are one of the sweetest people the Doctor has ever known. In his mind, you are the reason he kept running. Not to save the world across multiple timelines with different companions each time, shedding his skin every so often. But to find you every time, in every universe, and in the same apartment building.

You look over to the door again, still thinking about opening it. The series of unfortunate events goes as follows in your mind: You get up from the couch and open the door to the Doctor just awkwardly standing there; the two of you break out into a conversation about what he happens to be doing at your apartment on a Saturday night after work, he proclaims his love for you and you, out of fear, reject him. The Doctor goes on a big rant about how you should really give him a chance. But by this point, you can only hear your heart beating, so you slam the door in his face.

I mean, isn’t that the way it always goes?

Sure, you did actually like him, but it was not like you were planning on telling him anytime soon. It's not like you feared his reaction; the Doctor isn’t exactly at the top of the scariest individuals ever. And yet, your legs pick up for your body from the couch and walk over the door. You place your hand gingerly on the doorknob, turning it slowly.

‘This is a bad idea, right?’ You think as you open the door.

Upon opening the door, the Doctor’s head pops his head up. He smiles. You try to avoid his gaze, unlike how you did when you were a schoolgirl.

"Fancy seeing you here." You mumble.

The Doctor’s hand twitches as he hears you speak. It felt so good hearing your voice again, even though he had heard it earlier that day. You shyly look up, still avoiding direct eye contact. The Doctor’s eyes softly as he sees you look up. He could sense how nervous you were, but he wanted to tell you he wasn’t there to hurt you. In his arms, he would make everything feel good. "Listen, um," The Doctor started, trying to keep his thoughts in one place.

"I wanted to come here and say…" The Doctor’s voice trails off. He doesn’t know how to put this.

"You love me?" You reply, trying to keep your voice down.

The Doctor didn’t think it would be that clear that the feeling was that obvious. It didn’t help how you said it, so matter-of-fact, which you didn’t detect. Maybe you did know that you pulled your skirt as a sign of flirting.

That part was valid that, over time, you had been flirting with the idea of being with the Doctor. Including playing with your skirt when you knew he was looking. Sure, you did other things to get him to notice you, like wearing makeup to highlight your eyes or shorter skirts and tight shirts.

But he never bothered to actually flirt with you. It could’ve been possible that he thought you had a partner or, god forbid, you were married. You had never told him about such people because you had none to speak of. No lover to call your own.

"Um, yeah, something like that." He laughs awkwardly.

Your face flushed with the red hue of your blood, and your heart started beating faster. You thought you were going to die. Your eyes meet his. This has never happened before. A new feeling washes over you.

Love. No longer an innocent, flirty crush. He felt like a lover at that moment. You grab his face and pull him into a passionate kiss, dropping your orange blanket onto the carpet floor of the hallway. His lips were soft, although a bit wet. Meanwhile, the night sky became darker, and rain began to fall, hitting against your windows. The winds outside, once soft and free, became harsh and fast.

You pull him into your apartment, careful not to trip over or break anything. Your kiss was like that as well; it was unbreakable and wistful. You wanted him more than anything at that moment. He pulled away for a second and uttered the words you dreamed about hearing: "I want you."

The Doctor said he wanted you. Something just clicked in your head. Nothing was holding you back at this point. You begin to untie his iconic bowtie and unbutton his shirt, his tan blazer falling to the floor. The Doctor told himself to remain calm and sensual. One of the many things that made you squirm in your seat and have a slight blush on your cheeks was when he remained mysterious and alluring. That was the only thing that was a constant. He grabs your hips and pulls you closer to him, his nose ghosting over your neck.

You, on the other hand, didn’t care what he did. As long as your hands were on his body and vice versa, the rest didn’t matter. The last thing that mattered was staying calm. The Doctor lets out a soft moan. You place your body back on the couch again, looking at the man you’ve been craving all this time. He loved that your eyes flickered like a candle in the wind. Your body moved in a way that was borderline pornographic, slowly moving from side to side. He notices this and moves on top of you, his knee closer to your heat. It’s like he knew your body in and out, predicting your every move.

‘Gently, now.’ He thought as his hands moved closer to the side of your breasts, cupping them in his bony hands.

Your cunt twitches at the feeling. The Doctor held you like you were a wine glass. Which, in his mind, was the only way to touch you. He may have only known you for a few months; he wasn’t ready to let you leave his touch yet.

After all, he’s the only Time Lord left. He’s had so many companions that, after a while, it became hard to keep track of. After falling in love with so many different people, it felt impossible to feel that kind of love again. Then, he was in 1951, in the middle of a busy high school hallway, struggling to find himself or where his room was. A lovely young woman walks by, struggling to hold her books. The Doctor locks eyes with her and asks her the time. She replies: “1:30.” That was when the Doctor finally knew he was in the right place, at the right time.

The Doctor moves down to the neck, planting gentle kisses as he moves. You let out a soft moan, careful to make your neighbor not hear. Your mother always told you to settle down soon and have a husband to care for you. To be frank, she wasn’t clear about the husband part. Sometimes, a husband is an extraterrestrial from a distant planet, most likely older than one thousand years old.

"Please," you beg softly.

"Are you sure?" He asks, knowing he might regret it if you say no.

You nod your head.

He nods back.

The Doctor crawls down your body, taking in every part of you. Your biceps were held neatly above your head, and your breathing got heavier the lower he went. He positioned one knee on the plush carpeted floor. The Doctor's breathing slowed as the Doctor went under your nightdress.

The Doctor hooks your panties and pulls them down, exposing your wet pussy. He unthinkingly pockets the underwear, letting a part of the soft cotton peek out as a reminder of you. Taking a finger, the Doctor gently flicks under the hood of your clit. As you can imagine, sex isn’t something the Doctor doesn’t get to have often, so he is a bit rusty. He could feel his two hearts beat with every soft flick of his finger. Your body twitches for a second, praying for more contact. He suddenly got the idea to slip a single finger inside of you. Even the thought of the moans you would let out made his already hard dick almost painful.

"I’m going to put a single finger inside you, okay?" He stated, "If you don’t like it, tell me, okay?"

"Yes," You say softly.

"Yes, what?" The Doctor repeats.

You think for a moment. "Yes, Doctor."

He smirks, "Good girl."

His fingertip touches the wet walls of your cunt. His middle finger gently pushes against your G-spot, making you whimper.

‘She wants more.’

Of course, being the lovely Doctor, he continues to nurse your G-spot but starts to kiss your inner thighs. His lips were a faint red and slick with spit. Teasing was one of the many things he wanted to try, but he never found the right partner. He understood that this is what you needed. You felt so pent up with sexual frustration. Year after year, you felt more disappointed with the partners in your life, sexually speaking. And yet the Doctor, after knowing you for so little time, could read your body like a book. Through desperation, the Doctor managed to undo his tight belt and unzip his beige dress pants with his free hand. He starts to palm his cock through his boxers as he continues.

"Please…more." She whines, getting tired of all the teasing.

He chuckles, "Sorry, I got carried away. Don’t worry, I’ve got you."

The Doctor thrusts his ring finger inside, plunging slightly into your canal. As he glances down at your poor, throbbing clit, he notes that it looks like a pink pearl inside of an oyster. He places a gentle kiss on it and mumbles something inaudible. Your back suddenly arches up as the waves of pleasure carry over you again. Honestly, you hadn’t felt anything like it before. It almost felt inhuman. The whimpers were now replaced with a slightly louder moan. You start slowly grinding at the air, hoping for any contact with him. His touch on your clit was all you could think about.

"That’s it, good girl. God, you deserve this more than anyone right now." The Doctor says. The Doctor continues to work on your clit, starting with soft cat-like licks. His hands ran slowly up your calves.

This was it. The moment the Doctor had been waiting for, the moment to be close to you. It was never how he imagined it, but honestly, he would have cared less. To run his hands up your legs as the Doctor continued to tease you felt like something the Doctor would come up with on a boring night in the TARDIS. It reminds him of all the times he daydreams about unbuttoning those perfect blouses you always wore when there was an important meeting you have to attend. Sure, those types of daydreams were few and far between. It didn’t stop his sick imagination much from thinking about it anyway whenever you got just a little too close to his face.

You could hardly contain every moan or groan that came out of your body. It felt involuntary. Your soft hands move down and grab a part of the Doctor's luscious dark brown hair. The desire for him to be rougher with you was growing stronger by the minute. Sure, being romantic and sensual is always an idea you love. But this is the Doctor. Everything is different with him. With the Doctor, the romance could be thrown aside if he wants. If he wants to tie you up and degrade you, you are willing to buy the rope and let your eyes roll into the back of your skull for pleasure.

"More," you encourage, "Don’t be scared. I don’t bite."

The Doctor’s eyes look up at you, meeting your eyes.

Your eyes seemly convey everything he thought about on the humble drive over. The emphatic love you two have been feeling, along with the unchecked sexual tension the two of you also have. The Doctor went from soft and cat-like to expansive and slow. He relaxes the back of his tongue against your clit and moans, his delicate eyes still looking up at you.

The sense of human eye contact can be used in many ways. And it is clear that as your eyes start to flutter, you are closing in on your climax. The Doctor knows that he has to keep an invariant pace so as not to lose the orgasm. Most people would describe a good peak as “seeing stars” or “leg shaking.” Yours, however, was more like seeing a whole nebula and jittering. As the spasm came and went, your vision went from blurry to clear in seconds. You sit up on the couch, looking down at a kneeing Doctor.

Touching his cheek with your hand, the Doctor smiles, grazing his smile against it.

Your eyes go wide at a sudden realization, "Doctor, you didn’t–"

Before you can finish your sentence, the Doctor sits next to you on the couch.

"That’s not what matters. What matters is that you did." He spreads his arms out, pulling you into a hug. You roll your eyes jokingly and hug him back.

#send help #11th doctor #eleventh doctor #11th doctor x reader #2013 posting #doctor who #matt smith x reader #eleventh doctor x reader #doctor who smut

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a-den-of-demons · 1 month

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The Free Use Hotel (Open RP; All Muses Accepted)

At a central point in the dimensional rift sat a fancy resort, The Dimensional Resort. Made for beings able to traverse the multi-verse and dimensions, it offered a place to rest, relax, and even find pleasure. Monsters, mages, and normal humans all enjoyed their time here, able to mingle without being judged.

Your muse waited in front of the the front desk, getting handed a key by a beautiful, but stone faced blonde woman, "Here is your key. The mini fridge is charged, and any snacks will be charged to your account."

"Also feel free to look through our free use catalogue." A magic pad appeared, which showed a list of women and men, "They have all agreed to be fucked by anyone who wants them. Please refrain from doing it in the dining center or the main lobby. The gym, pool, sauna and spa, among others, are fair game and feel no shame in fucking in public."

"Staff are not technically on the list, but many will service customers off shift. Please do not attempt to fuck them on duty or you will be removed from the premises. Feel free to keep that pad as it will be updated on new people."

(This is a more open RP. Please specify the muse and what form they are in. All my muses can be found on my pinned post. Be rough on them but keep it consensual. You can pick up to two muses at once. And my male muses are available for female muses.)

#open rp #please read the rules before responding #make sure you read the brackets

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missannwinchester · 2 months

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Good girl (Joel/Reader, nsfw)

Joel Miller/Reader

Rating: E

Summary: Joel’s friend invited him to his peaceful resort by the lake. His stay there turns out not as peaceful as Joel had hoped when it turns out he set his eyes on the only woman in the resort that should be off limits.

Warnings: super cheesy, all over the place, dad’s best friend, age difference, slightly rough sex, outdoor sex, nsfw, dirty talk

Joel drove through the forest, the asphalt road leading him straight to the resort. He took a sip of cold, gas station coffee, slowing down as the road became full of potholes. He could smell the fresh scent of pine trees as the wind flew into the car through open windows. Despite wearing sunglasses, Joel squinted each time the sun appeared between the trees. He was driving to his friend’s resort to spend one week in a place with small wooden cabins, a huge lake, boats for rent and no reception and he couldn’t be happier. He desperately needed vacation, and talking to another human being, who happened to be his old buddy, seemed like a dream.

He parked his car, drank the rest of the coffee and got out of the car, taking his black duffel bag from the backseat. He looked around and smiled at the trees swaying in the gentle wind and turned, facing the nearby lake, trying to adjust his eyes to the brightness of the sun dancing in its reflection. He stood like that for a while, inhaling the scent of the forest, before he decided to go check in. He headed for a cabin with a huge ‘reception desk’ banner and took his glasses off as soon as he went inside, standing face to face with the prettiest woman he saw in a while. Not that a hermit like him saw women often, but still.

“Hello,” she greeted him quite cheerfully, but she was clearly surprised to see him.

Joel smiled at her, almost automatically forgetting about his usually gruff demeanor towards new people.

“Hi,” he said, rather sheepishly.

If he had to speak from experience, clerks in places like that were usually awkward middle-aged men, scrawny college frat boys or older women who always flirted with him.

“Did you have a reservation?” She asked, suspecting he hadn’t.

“Uh, no,” he responded. “I was hoping you’d have free cabins by chance, I’d like to stay for a week,” he blurted out and looked into her bright, beautiful eyes. He didn’t mention that he had just talked to the owner of this place or that he was promised ‘the best cabin there was in the whole resort’.

“Lucky for you, there are two cabins available for one week, one right in front of us, by the parking lot and my personal favorite, hidden a little further behind the trees, right by the lake, but it’s got a con and it costs twice as much as the parking lot one,” she explained, not breaking eye contact, staring into his dark eyes with fascination.

This man was extremely handsome, well-built, very broad, and his eyes? His eyes were truly something else.

“I’ll take that personal favorite of yours,” he smiled and took out his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans, forced to stop staring at her for a while.

She took a piece of paper and bit her lips when she reached for a pencil.

“Is anyone joining you?”

“No,” he said, leaning against the counter as she wrote something down.

“Breakfast included? Costs just extra 4 dollars per day.”

“I think so,” he retorted and she wrote something down again.

“So, when do you want to check out? Wednesday next week?”

“That’s right,” he nodded and she took a calculator and told him the price.

“I need to take a look at your ID,” she said and he complied, giving her the document.

“Okay, welcome to the resort, Joel. That’s the key, and here’s a map you can use to find your cabin or,” she said, sliding the map and key across the counter, “or I could just walk you there,” she suggested trying to sound breezy.

See, she had always been a good girl. Sunday school, do as she was told, good girl. She went to a good school, met a good man, got a good job, rented a good apartment, lived a good life. A good school she didn’t choose, with a good man she didn’t love and a good job that made her want to die in a good apartment that didn’t feel like home.

“It’s a little far, that’s all and… all the trees look kinda the same, but… well, you have a map,” she babbled, trying not to sound stupid.

“I’ve never been good with maps,” he smiled at her before he took the map and purposefully looked at it upside down, making her chuckle.

“I better walk you then,” she told him.

They walked for about five minutes through the forest, avoiding the small, crowded beach by the lake. The path was very narrow so Joel walked a few steps behind her. She could almost feel his eyes on her tight jeans shorts and she took a mental note to check out his bottom as well.

“How far is the cabin exactly?” Joel asked curiously.

“A little further,” she said. “You know, if you could read that map you’d know it shows an estimated time that you need to get from your cabin to all the important places? Like the breakfast lounge, boat rental or the reception desk,” she told him and slowed down a little, as the path became wider and now he could walk beside her.

“Interesting,” he admitted and eyed the map, quickly reading details about breakfast and how long it takes to go to the restaurant. “So, are you needed at the reception desk or can you show me around?”

“I can, no one's scheduled to arrive today. You were lucky I was even there when you showed up,” she told him and smiled at him playfully.

“Lucky indeed,” he smiled. “When you’re not there, what do you do all day?” He wondered.

“Well… that’s your cabin,” she announced and gestured to the pretty little house. “And as for what I do, I guess I mostly sit on a pier,” she laughed and Joel looked at the map.

“16 minutes that way,” he said, pointing his finger at the forest.

“Wow, you got better at it so fast,” she joked, but then she bit her lip hesitantly. “Actually, this one is not on the map,” she confessed quietly, as if she was telling a secret.

“Oh,” Joel sounded intrigued and waited for her to elaborate.

“We could go there if…” she sighed.

“If?” He prompted.

“If you promise me you’ll never go there without me. It’s mine and mine only,” she said quite sternly, looking at him with confidence.

“I promise, scout’s honor,” he responded without hesitation.

“Alright. Go, leave your bag, I’ll wait,” she promised and Joel went to the cabin and tossed his duffel bag inside carelessly and almost ran back to her.

His heart had been fluttering ever since he saw her, he figured it would stop after a while, but it was probably gonna be a longer while.

Fifteen minutes later they were standing on a pier. It was surrounded by water and reeds.

“Isn’t it awesome? We can see the lake, but the lake can’t see us,” she said with a grin. “I love this place,” she told him.

“I can see why,” he muttered, taking a deep breath, looking at the beautiful landscape surrounding him.

“Tourists never come by here, they stick to the other side of the lake, so it’s very peaceful,” she told him.

“And the view’s nice,” he said, looking straight at her and she smiled, suddenly a little shy.

“Yeah, especially when you actually look at the view,” she blurted out, pointing at the lake.

“Well I don’t know, I like looking over here,” he confessed, his body turned towards her. “You’d make any view better,” he whispered, but gave her space in case he read the signals wrong.

She turned, facing him with a smile dancing on her lips. She took a tiny step forward, getting closer to him, but not closing the gap between them, leaving him some room to decide what to do next. He also stepped forward, now standing in her personal space, their bodies almost touching.

“Does this line always work?” She wondered out loud, looking up at his face.

“Well, it seems to be working this time,” he responded and reached out to grab her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, his other hand touched her hair, which was as soft as he expected, tucking them behind her ear as she leaned into his touch making his boxers even tighter now than a second ago. “What about your line?”

“What do you mean?” She asked unsurely.

“About the secret pier?” He clarified. “About how no one can see us.”

Her free hand traveled up his chest to rest on his shoulder and she knew it would be a horrible time to mention that she had never done anything like this before, not on this pier, nor anywhere else. The only sex she had was with her lousy ex fiance and for that she should have got an award for the best actress in a live action short film because she always had to fake it. So here she was, having her very first summer fling with an older guy and she had never been so aroused in her whole life.

“Seems to be working this time,” she smiled.

Joel leaned down and kissed her, slowly but surely and she responded, parting her lips, letting his tongue slide in. He tasted like something sweet and vaguely familiar and she gasped softly as his tongue explored her mouth. His hands were on her back, pulling her close and hers were wrapped around his neck, fingers playing with hair at the back of his head. His lips left hers and she was disappointed for a second before she felt them on her neck.

“Are you gonna tell me your name?” He asked, focusing his actions on her jawline.

He frowned when she tensed, grabbing his T-shirt, lightly pushing him away, but not letting him go. She told him her name.

Her grip on his T-shirt was quite strong considering her size and Joel could see how aroused she was. She pulled him towards her and kissed him deeply, dominating the kiss. He pushed his leg between hers, his hand on her ass, pulling her closer to him. She grinded against him and he hummed when he pressed his erection at her hip. She gasped into his mouth and pulled at the waistband of his jeans. She had never felt like this before, like she could come right there, dry humping him.

Joel unbuckled his belt and took off his jeans as she did the same. Her shorts fell on the pier and she felt a little self conscious. She tugged at the waistband of his boxers, pulling him into a kiss, his hand immediately found their way to her ass, squeezing it and slapping it very, very lightly, just enough to make it bounce. She sucked on his neck for a while before she pushed his boxers down and felt his fingers sliding under the soft material of her panties, pushing them down her smooth legs. He brushed his finger against her wet folds, sliding it in slowly, his thumb on her clit. He finger fucked her slowly, adding another digit while kissing her shoulder. She moaned at the sensation and slid her hands under his T-shirt, exploring his back. She was on the edge, waiting for him to just lightly, lightly push her.

“Hop up?” He suggested, reading from her uncertain expression that she might have some doubts.

“Um… up… you mean…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you ride me, sweetheart,” he promised and she nodded, wrapping her hands around his neck, waiting for him to pick her up.

When he did, she squeezed him with her legs, kissing him and sucking on his lip. She noticed that he was insanely strong, it seemed like she didn’t weigh anything to him. One of his arms snuck under her leg and pushed her a little higher and the other positioned his cock right at her entrance. He supported her butt lightly, as she slowly lowered herself on his thick shaft. Her walls stretched around him and she let out a quiet moan when she heard him groan. She felt his eyes on her face and she looked at him, rolling her hips, making him gasp into her face. Encouraged by him, she started riding his cock, squeezing him tightly with her thighs. He dug his fingers into her hips, almost painfully as he grunted when she lowered herself again, but his touch quickly softened again. He was helping her up and down, but he had to stop himself from straight up ramming her down on him.

“You can hold me like before,” she whispered. “I like how strong you are,” she told him and she felt his fingers digging into her flesh greedily and she heard a low growl as he closed his eyes to prevent them from rolling back.

“You like it rough?” He guessed and she realized she does actually like it rough. “Fuck, you’re so damn sexy, he growled.”

His confession gave her a boost of confidence that she needed, their pace was now relentless, the soft moans she made were driving him crazy, he felt like he could explode any second. He knew she was close, because her whimpers were becoming louder with each roll of his hips. She was gripping his T-shirt tightly, holding onto him with shaky arms and she wondered how he could do it, standing so straight up. He broke the sloppy kiss and licked the side of her neck, then nibbled on it softly. She moaned, a little ashamed of herself as she had never actually moaned during sex before. Without thinking, Joel brushed his teeth against her skin, scratching it.

“Fuck, sorry,” he apologized quickly when her legs jerked around him, knowing it must have hurt and he leaned to to kiss that spot better, but she whimpered loudly and dug her fingernails into the back of his neck, making him think that he misread her reaction.

“Did you like it?” He asked, already sure what the answer would be when he felt her teeth brush against his skin shyly, not enough to even leave a mark.

He guessed it might have been her first time and he hummed, trying to encourage her to use her teeth.

“Yeah,” she moaned quietly in response and Joel felt her timidity.

He noticed that her confidence decreased the moment she took her pants off, but he didn’t mind, knowing that if this went well he would have more time to rock her world again during his stay.

“It’s okay sweetie, I like it too,” he assured her and did it again, letting his teeth leave a mark on her shoulder. “Do you like it when I talk?”

“I do,” she admitted, not slowing down.

“Fuck yes,” he groaned and found her lips and his tongue slid in to start a sloppy kiss.

She started panting and Joel leaned down again to bite and suck on her neck and the second his teeth pinched her neck she came with him buried deep inside her. Her walls pulsed around him and he came too, rolling his hips into her one last time. He held her through her orgasm as he focused on not letting his knees give out as he panted loudly. She stopped squeezing him and let go of his T-shirt as she hummed contently, kissing him on the neck, on the hickey she had left on his soft skin. He helped her off his cock and he carefully put her back on the pier. He kissed her softly, his tongue gently brushed her lip. She smiled and pulled her shirt down to make it a little longer. She looked around in the search for her underwear. Joel got the hint and found his boxers while she was busy putting on her shorts. He winked at her with a smile while putting on jeans and she smiled back, comforted by his face expression.

“It was… very nice to meet you, Joel,” she said.

“My pleasure,” he muttered under his breath.

He came to face her again and his eyes traveled down her neck where she had a red mark left by his teeth.

“Well, it seems like a good start of a mindblowing week,” he whispered hopefully and she looked at him finally, nodding her head. “We could do this again tomorrow.”

“You know where to find me,” she reminded him with a smile.

“Will you walk me to my cabin?” He asked.

“Totally,” she said and started walking awkwardly towards the forest.

It all happened so fast, she wasn’t even sure if it was real.

“Actually, I was… I was hoping to meet the guy who owns the place, would you tell him I checked in when he comes back?” Joel asked.

“Yeah,” she nodded, just then thinking of her father. “Can you maybe not mention to him the…”

“The warm welcome?” He chuckled. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“I’m actually kind of supposed to sit at the reception desk all the time,” she confessed. “If anyone asks, you got to your cabin all by yourself.”

“Sure thing,” he promised, not thinking much about it.

He leaned down and grabbed her butt. He gave it a firm squeeze and pushed her forward a little, and taking advantage of her initial shock, he kissed her passionately.

“I’ll find you tomorrow,” he promised and let her go, walking slowly towards the cabin.

“You better,” she muttered and bit her lip as she tilted her head, looking at his ass as he walked through the long grass.

A couple of hours later, she was sitting behind the reception desk, reading one of the old books she had found in one of the drawers. She turned the page, bored out of her mind and she glanced at her phone to see what time it was. She sighed loudly and threw the book at the counter. She got up from her seat and walked up to the window. She sighed one more time and pressed her forehead against the cold glass. Her dad was supposed to be at the resort in the evening and even though he hadn’t precised when, she was getting impatient. The reception was horrible so there was no use in even trying to call him. She locked up and headed towards the lake. The sun was setting, painting beautiful colors in the sky. She took her shoes off and walked into the lake, trying to ignore the screaming children who were running next to her. The water was quite cold, so she stopped after just a few steps, wiggling her toes in the sand. She could no longer see the sun as it hid behind the trees, but she enjoyed the colors dancing in the water. Despite the commotion, she heard a car engine and she turned her head to see her father’s truck on the rickety road. She walked out of the water slowly and picked up her shoes, walking lazily towards the parking lot. She saw her dad's silhouette from afar, she guessed he was holding something in his hand, probably his phone. He waved at someone and she heard his laugh. She smiled, glad that after all those years her dad was still excited to run the resort. The staff loved him and it was nice to watch as he joked around with them. Trying not to step on anything sharp barefoot, she walked slowly and carefully, avoiding the pine cones, but she was already right next to the parking lot. Involuntarily, her gaze followed her dad and that’s when she saw something strange. Her dad was hugging… Joel. Her dad was hugging Joel. She stopped and blinked a few times. Sure, she saw that guy one time, but she was certain that was him.

“You finally showed up man,” she heard her dad’s cheerful voice. “That calls for a celebration!”

“Definitely!” He responded and the men finally let go of each other. “I brought booze!” He said, handing his friend a paper bag.

“Let’s get you drunk like that time in Wichita!” Her dad cheered.

“I don’t remember ever being in Wichita,” Joel protested with a frown.

He turned around, motioning Joel to come with him and that’s when he saw his daughter and he greeted her with a smile.

“Hey,” he started, walking up to her, “that’s my old friend Joel, I met him way before I met you,” he laughed and she hoped she managed to hide how horrified she was.

She quickly glanced at Joel and for a second, his eyes met hers and he gulped, then, as if nothing happened he put a perfect poker face on.

“Joel, you must have met my daughter,” he said proudly. “Did she show you around?”

“She gave me a map,” Joel said quickly, faking a smile.

“That’s my girl!” His friend laughed. “Let’s go grab a bite, tomorrow I’m gonna take you fishing, Joel! See, we have this secret pier, it’s not on the map…”

The end

Thank you for reading :)

~Ann

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader

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wardenparker · 9 days

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Hummingbird Has Landed, ch 13

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

After the debacle of his failed engagement and relocating to Washington to take charge of his task force, newly minted Special Agent Marcus Pike is ready to get back out into the dating pool once more. A slew of bad dates has him feeling a little down, and he takes an old friend up on an invitation to get away and get his head on straight. Imagine his surprise when he finds not only fresh air, but his soulmate as well - hiding in plain sight but in the unlikeliest of places.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 14.5k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: occasional mention of American politics, pregnant character, food/alcohol consumption, mentions of clothing/regulated dressing for occasions, mentions of therapy because we believe in self care here, reader is in a previous relationship, love triangle, reader is mentioned as turning 30 during the course of the story, dom/sub dynamics* Shitty exes being shitty, anxiety, stress of confusion, attempted sabotage. A bit of dirty flirting in there for good measure. Summary: When you and Marcus stumble upon the perfect place for your engagement party, things get complicated by Sam's plans to rent the very same venue. Notes: I'm sure I missed some errors in the proofreading, but such is life. Please enjoy, my dears! Chapter photo from Monticello's website.

Ch1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12

The idea happened a bit by accident, but a few days after your goddaughter was born, once Sydney and Juan and Constance were comfortably and safely at home, Marcus had convinced you to take the last of your days off and go out to Monticello with him for some fresh air and historical tourism. The numerous tours and lunch at the café on the vast grounds are exactly the break that you need, and you're bent over the map together on the sunny grounds when you tilt your head and look up at him beside you.

"Ya know..." The idea is just a hum in the back of your throat. "I bet they're booked ages in advance to do events here...but it might be worth asking if they have an opening or a cancellation sometime soon."

"What are you thinking of having here?" He's not even arguing against the idea, just trying to get a feel for what you are starting to plan. "I don't think we can build our house here." He teases, having nearly gone cross eyed from going through house plans with you over the last two days.

"No, we're definitely not doing that." You roll your eyes playfully and nudge him. The work on the house is finally underway and now you've moved on to talking about decorating so it feels like square one of an entirely new project instead of just a new phase on a continuing one. "I was thinking it would be a hell of a place for an engagement party if they have an opening before Thanksgiving. But I doubt it."

Marcus contemplates it, looking around with his hands on his hips and hums. "I think it would be good." He agrees before glancing back at you with a smirk. "There's only one way to find out if they have any dates available." He teases. "We've got to ask."

"Gee, what a shocking idea." When you poke him in the side it comes with a giggle and you motion back at the visitor's center behind you. "Let's go see if anyone is in to chat with us about it."

Marcus snickers, wrapping his hand around your waist and tugging you closer while he snatches up the map with his free hand. "Let's go. Touring can wait."

Inside the Visitor's Center, the middle–aged woman sitting at the desk is pleasantly chatting with the last guests of a long line before turning her smile on you and Marcus. "Well hello there dears," she greets, just as pleasantly as a sunshiney summer day. "How can I help you?"

“My fiancée and I were hoping to talk to an events coordinator?” He glances back at you for confirmation at the title and when you nod, he turns and beams at her. “Is there one available, or do we need to make an appointment, Miss….” He glances at her name badge. “Amber?”

“Well certainly there is, but she is just finishing up a meeting at the moment.” Amber glances at her computer screen and back again without the smile ever leaving her face. “They should be done in just a few minutes if you’d like to wait and speak to her afterward?”

Marcus turns back to you, “do you want to wait, sweetheart?” He asks, rubbing your waist gently. Still proud as a peacock at being your fiancé.

“Why not?” There’s still a chance that there are no openings anytime soon, but waiting around for a few minutes to ask won’t hurt anything.

“Wonderful.” Amber picks up the telephone on her desk and pushes a few buttons with that everlasting smile on her face. “I’ll let her know she has someone waiting. May I have your name, sir?”

Marcus smiles as he gives your name and tries not to smirk when it’s obvious she recognizes the surname. “And Marcus Pike.”

“One moment, please.” The conversation that Amber heads into the receiver is hurried and she tries not to be terribly animated but you catch her glancing up at you once during the frazzled conversation and you smile kindly in response.

Marcus leans over and nuzzles your neck. “Hopefully she’s a political support of your mom and not firmly against her.” He teases quietly.

“Fingers crossed,” you laugh back quietly.

Marcus chuckles in your ear, holding you close as you both politely wait for the phone call to be finished.

When Amber sets down the receiver, she offers you and Marcus a warm smile and motions to a set of chairs to your side in the lobby of the Visitor's Center. "Melanie will be right with you. She will only be a few minutes more."

“Thank you.” Marcus thanks her sincerely and guides you to the chairs.

It's about ten minutes later than a tall, pretty blonde in a floral dress appears from around a corner, leading two people back toward the lobby of the building. If you hadn't watched them come into view you would have said it was too ridiculous. Too much of a coincidence. But there they are – Sam and Vanessa side–by–side with a notebook and pen in Vanessa's hands and Sam gesturing authoritatively all the way.

Marcus stiffens slightly, his hand squeezing yours gently and he wonders if he should stand and greet them or pretend that they aren’t known to you or him.

It only takes a split second, but the decision is taken from you almost instantly. Sam spots you from across the lobby and pauses only momentarily before aiming the group of them directly for you instead of toward the exit. “Looks like we’re doing this,” you murmur to Marcus, and stand with his hand still in yours as your exes approach.

“Congressman Chase, Vanessa.” Marcus greets both of them politely, if a little stiffly. Formal. Something that couldn’t be misinterpreted by anyone as rude. “What a surprise to see you both.”

“Well this is a surprise.” Sam doesn’t offer to shake Marcus Pike’s hand or yours, barely looking at you while the well–dresses blonde that had been walking with them senses the tension right away.

“Congressman. Miss D’Amario.” She looks nervous too, by association. Unlike Miss Amber at the desk, she knows exactly who is in front of her. “Let me just get you that last brochure, shall I?”

Marcus doesn’t say anything else, just rubbing the back of your hand gently and watching as the blonde guides them back towards the desk. “Well, I’m not sure why they are here.” He murmurs quietly.

“Who knows?” You huff quietly, holding onto him for stability. “Maybe the same reason we are.”

“No, no.” Sam’s voice is distinct in the echoing building. “We want to have the event at the house.” He is insisting loudly. “Not on an overlooking lawn.”

“I’m very sorry, sir, but as I explained to you, we have four locations across the grounds for private events.” With the patience of a saint, Melanie explains yet again. “Each location has multiple rooms available for hosting. However, the historical house is not one of them.”

“That’s is not good enough.” Sam tried charming her, but now it’s time to be serious. “Don’t you know what this is for?”

“Yes Congressman, you’ve been very clear about that.” Her painted on smile is placid and professional, even if her nerves are fraying slightly. “But with respect, even if the president wanted to have a campaign event here, the house would still not be an option.”

“There has to be a way to make this happen.” He glances over at you and Marcus, frowning slightly at why you are here. Another symbol of why he is having to fight so hard to make things happen. You’ve screwed him over.

“It is not an option we have available.” The woman’s eyes track his, glancing over at you in the lobby. She knows the ticking time bomb she has in her hands. She had been following the new first family in the news since the election. “And I assure you that our answer for anyone else will be the same.”

The shift of her eyes irritates him. Signifying that he’s not the most important person in the room. Clenching his jaw, he shakes his head. “I would hate for this to descend into a legal battle.” He speaks as if it’s not a threat but then he shifts topics. “What days are available?”

“If you are looking to hold an event next month, our lawn here is entirely booked aside from the night of Saturday the fourteenth. We had a cancellation that night. Otherwise we have smaller spaces available on several days but your maximum capacity for the event would be sixty people.”

"That will not be enough for our needs." Sam insists. "We would need the entire venue."

"We will be happy to accommodate the number of guests you quoted on the lawn on Saturday the fourteenth." The otherwise very pleasant looking blonde smothers a sigh of frustration and hands a brochure over to Vanessa, who accepts it with a snap of her hand and clips to the folder she is carrying. "Beyond that, our next available date to accommodate that many guests would be in January."

"Fine." He's not happy and he will be having a word with the proper people to get the answers he wants. "We will let you know, but pencil us in."

"The date will be held for twenty–four hours. At which time I will be happy to accept your deposit or establish an alternative plan with you for another space on the property, otherwise the availability will be released to other clients." When she smiles this time there is a measure of relief in it. "If there is anything else I can do for you, or anything other questions I can answer for you, please feel free to contact me. My office hours and direct line are listed on the card that I gave to your assistant."

Vanessa straightens slightly, tall and proud beside Sam. Her eyes flicker over to the pair of you to see if you are watching. Curious to know why you are here and desperate to not appear that way.

“Fine.” Sam bristles, disliking being told ‘no’ and placing the blame squarely on one single set of shoulders. No one had told him no while he was publicly dating the First Daughter. His effort to organize re–election events shouldn’t be nearly this hard, but here he is. Having to take meetings himself instead of making a simple phone call or just sending Vanessa on his behalf. But without knowing for certain why you and that FBI lackey of yours are here, he wants to see if he can at least eavesdrop on the beginning of your meeting before he leaves.

When Melanie shakes hands with Sam and Vanessa again, turning to walk towards you and Marcus, the two of you stand. “Thank you for taking the time to see us.” He starts, offering the slightly frazzled woman a sincere smile. “Hopefully our questions won’t be too arduous.”

“I’m sure they won’t be.” She wants to say that nothing would be as arduous as the meeting she just took, but that would be less than professional. She shakes your hand in turn and motions toward the direction she had come from with the congressman. “Why don’t we go to my office?”

Marcus does the polite thing and nods to Sam and Vanessa, a little surprised when the woman who had ended things with him amicably turns her head to snub him. He doesn’t say anything, just guides you to office, following behind Melanie at a few paces.

“Here we are.” Down a hall and up a few stairs, she stops and opens the door of an office to let you and Marcus inside. “My name is Melanie O’Neil and I’m the special event coordinator here at Monticello. I understand you’re interesting in planning an event with us?”

“Sweetheart?” Marcus looks towards you to take the lead, smiling softly.

"We were hoping you might have availability in the beginning of October, though I know that is short notice," you explain, but you did hear her rattle off some dates to Sam in the lobby. "We're interested in having our engagement party here."

“Engagement?” Her eyes widen happily as she takes in the sight of a happy couple in love. “Delightful.” She shuffles through the book and nods. “We have Saturday the fourteenth, I’m afraid that it is the only date available.” She tilts her head. “Someone else has expressed interest, but they have not paid to reserve it.” She would not feel bad about direct Sam Chase somewhere else.

"That would be fine with us, but I insist on waiting the appropriate twenty–four hours to give the other interested party their fair chance." You won't have Sam whining to some blogger about how you stole his venue space. That just won't fly. "Can you tell us a little about how you organize the space or if you have caterers on site?"

“It is the lawn area.” Motioning to the large detailed map of the event areas, she indicates a gorgeous area close to the water. “We can set up the space to accommodate practically any needs. A dance floor, a bar, string lighting.” She explains. “Tents are approved but they have to be provided by Monticello, to make sure that we don’t have someone coming in and destroying the grounds. Catering can be provided or you can invite someone in to cater for you.”

“That all sounds very reasonable.” The pricing is also reasonable for the location and what is being offered, and Melanie shows you and Marcus a brochure of price packages. “So we could select to have you provide the bar, tents, tables, chairs, lighting, and a dance floor…and we can bring in our own catering?”

“Absolutely.” She agrees with a nod and smile. “We pride ourselves on making sure that our clients have the best possible time.”

“And…” Glancing over at Marcus and then at the door where Agent Bailey is currently standing as nonchalantly as possible while keeping her eyes open. “You won’t have a problem with having the Secret Service on property?”

“Oh no.” If she’s shocked by the question, she doesn’t show it. “We will follow the lead of your security at all times. I do have to warn you that there are other events that day, but we keep the spaces separate.”

“That’s wonderful.” It’s hard to believe that anyone would have a problem doing business with this woman, but then…some people are quite picky. And you know Sam is one of them. “Honey, did you have any questions or ideas?” You ask, wanting to make sure Marcus is in on this planning.

Marcus considers the space and looks towards you. “Live band?” He asks. “Can there be speakers placed?”

“Certainly.” Melanie smiles at that and scribbles an additional note in the pad in front of her. “We have a bandstand ready to be put up when needed. As long as we’re not talking about a full scale orchestra, that can be accommodated.”

“No, nothing like that.” Marcus laughs. “I don’t think we would want to be that pretentious for an engagement party. We just want to have fun, right Birdie?”

“I don’t even want a big orchestra for the wedding, let alone the engagement party.” You agree, laughing a little at the very idea of it. It’s utterly ridiculous. You’re not orchestra people even if you do both like classical music sometimes. “No, I think we’re talking about something very reasonable. Nothing too big or too nit–picky.”

“I think that’s the best option, a live band and then we have a playlist for when they are taking breaks.” Marcus agrees looking towards Melanie. “Do you have a lot of bands that you work with? I’m not too familiar with the scene here.”

“We have a few.” She nods, turning to her computer, presumably to print out a list. “Mostly the kind you would hire for a wedding. Cover bands like that get a lot of work out here.”

“I would imagine they would.” Marcus agrees, looking towards you. “What do you think, sweetheart? Unless you have someone specific?”

“No, I think that sounds perfect.” Live music is definitely something you both feel strongly about, and it continues to incorporate local artists into the fold of every one of your events. It’s an excellent plan. “Can I leave you my number, and ask you to give me a call tomorrow to tell me whether or not Congressman Chase decides to take the date?” You ask Melanie as politely as possible. “If he doesn’t, I think we’ll be very glad to have it.”

“I will most assuredly call you.” She promises with a smile, hoping that she deals with you instead of the congressman.

“Then how about a tour?” You suggest, offering the woman a smile.

“That would be wonderful.” Marcus agrees. “If you have time, of course.”

“Of course.” Melanie stands from her desk again. “Come along with me.”

******

“What if we just stayed here?” You groan for the second time this morning, burrowing deeper into Marcus’s side in bed as the sun rises higher in the morning sky. It’s early but you have a lot to do. His parents and a few other friends and family are arriving this morning for the engagement party tonight. The planning had gone well for being such short notice, but that still doesn’t mean you want to leave the warmth of your fiancé’s side just yet. There are a thousand things to do today before the party tonight, but you’ll manage. You just want a few more minutes of quiet with Marcus before facing it all.

“Then we will have a party that will be will be talked about for ages.” Marcus hums in amusement. “An engagement party where the couple doesn’t arrive.” He rubs your back gently. “We could start a new fad.”

“It would be very mysterious of us,” you snicker, knowing you and Marcus are some of the least mysterious people on the planet.

“Yes it would. I think everyone would start a manhunt for us.” He laughs.

“Probably not the best idea,” you admit, even if it makes you laugh. “Since the Secret Service would be involved in the manhunt.”

“Millions of taxpayer dollars, wasted.” He snorts, smirking at you slightly. “All the helicopters they would bring out.”

You snort, looking up at him in the morning light and sigh dramatically to get one more laugh from him. "I guess we should get up then, huh?"

“If we have to.” This time, he’s the one pouting. “Our honeymoon needs to be someplace quiet. A cabin in the mountains. Where we just stay in bed all day.”

"You know you can go stay at the hotel where they filmed Dirty Dancing, right?" As you drag yourself out of bed on the morning of your engagement party, talking about your honeymoon sounds like the perfect conversation.

“Really?” Marcus hums, intrigued by the idea. “It’s really up in the Catskills, isn’t it?”

"It is." Unconcerned with wearing anything night for the first part of the day, you go straight to your closet for jeans and a t–shirt. You'll change into the silver cocktail dress you have picked out later tonight. "And they supposedly really lean into the Dirty Dancing thing, which is fun."

“I’m sure Agent Bailey would love an isolated cabin to have us locked away.” He teases. “If you want to look into that, I’m completely game.”

“It’s a far cry from our original idea.” Which is neither good nor bad, just worth pointing out. “Paris is very different from a cabin in the Catskills.”

“That’s true.” Marcus stops and turns to you. “I love the idea of both, each for very different reasons.” He admits with a grin. “Whatever you want, as long as I’m with you, I’ll be happy.”

“We could always make up a little list?” You offer, ultimately pulling an old college t–shirt out of your closet with a clean bra. “And then narrow it down after we settle on a wedding date?”

“That works for me.” Marcus agrees, watching you as you start to get dressed. It’s probably his favorite part of the day, unless you count undressing.

"Where else might you want to go?" He's watching carefully and you wiggle your hips a little in his direction.

Marcus grunts, feeling his body respond to the little tease and he’s honestly wondering if he can take you back to bed for another hour. “Um…you pick.” He tells you. “A beach?”

"The beach is good." If you reach for a pair of nearly non–existent panties just to keep teasing him? Well, who can blame you for that? "Sand and swimming and sunny skies. Are you thinking Mexico or Mediterranean?"

Marcus blows out a breath when you pull out the see through lace that is literally just scraps of cloth posing as panties. “Mexico would be nice. Somewhere off the beaten path?”

"Someplace with a little bungalow and a private beach?" Since Marcus likes to tease you just as much as you like to tease him, you don't feel bad for even a second about bending over dramatically in front of him so he can have the best view of your ass when you put your panties on. "Hawaii could be fun, too."

“Too many people.” He immediately grunts. “Too many cameras.”

That makes you smirk, and you throw it over your shoulder at him. “So you’re looking to have me all to yourself?”

“Absolutely.” He nods immediately, finding your eyes for a moment before he goes back to ogling you. “All mine.”

“Well that’s true even if we go someplace not isolated.” Deciding to continue messing with him just a tiny bit, you grab your tightest jeans to slip into while you’re still talking. “I’ve been yours since the day we met.”

“But I’m thinking more of being able to strip you down whenever I want.” He admits with a grin. Completely unrepentant at the idea. “Maybe not even pack clothes.”

“If that’s what we’re going to do, we can lock ourselves in the house and Door Dash every meal.” You remind him, finally going to put on your bra and shirt. “Our honeymoon is a chance to have an adventure together. A sexy adventure, but still an adventure.”

“Get your head out of the gutter, got it.” He winks and shoots finger guns at you playfully. “Like it said, just ideas.”

“Listen,” you grin in response to his silliness. “If we decide on a winter wedding, we’re absolutely going someplace tropical to get away. I’m not looking to put snowshoeing on our itinerary.”

“So an Alaskan dog sledding race is off the table?” He jokes, snickering to himself.

“You don’t like snow either, Texas.” But both of you laugh, and as you shimmy into your t–shirt you’re already feeling better about the day. “Also…I don’t think a winter wedding sounds ideal. Even DC gets snow, and we lose any chance of having part of the night outside.”

“Yeah, I’ve never understood the ‘Winter Wonderland’ theme some people go for.” He admits with a huff. “Freezing my nut— uh, toes off doesn’t sound fun.”

“No,” you snort and tug him up out of bed to get dressed with you. “Freezing your nuts off does not sound fun.”

“Caught that, huh?” He huffs, even if he’s well aware that you don’t mind that kind of humor. “I don’t think you would like it either. You seem to like that part of my body.”

“I like that part of your body very much.” Your smirk is puckish. “Just as much as you like my tits.”

“Don’t forget your ass.” He reminds you, smirking as he pulls off his sleep shirt to get dressed. “I like that too. Oh and your thighs.”

“I like all parts of you and you like all parts of me.” You bite your lip unconsciously when he starts to change, always admiring of your fiancé in as many ways as he’ll let you at any given time. Marcus isn’t vain. He doesn’t dedicate himself to cut abs and weight lifting. But he does go to the gym to be in shape for his job and that combined with his love of food has made him broad and strong with a layer of cushioning softness that you adore.

“Then it sounds like we are a perfect match.” He winks at you as you eye him. Turning around and wiggling his own hips playfully, even though he has a flat ass.

It gets a snort and a giggle from you, and you swat at him playfully. “Do you want to go downstairs for breakfast or have something up here?”

“Completely up to you, love.” He promises. “I’ve heard rumors that Syd has been haunting the kitchens with a snuggly little Constance strapped to her chest.

“I keep telling her that maternity leave exists for a reason, but she can’t stay away.” Not that you blame her. You know for damn certain that you won’t be able to stay away from the inn after you’ve had your kids, either. “Let’s go down and say hello.”

He snorts to himself, well aware that he will be fighting the same battle Juan is when you are recovering from giving birth. “I think we need to just build her a house on the property too.” He tells you. “Make sure she’s close enough to rest.”

“The house is almost done.” Just one more month, according to the contractors. “Maybe we should keep the apartment up here as a resting space for the staff for a while? Before we turn it into a guest suite.”

“Orrrrrr…” Marcus tilts his head as he looks around the apartment. It’s not large, but it’s large enough. “What if we turned it into a small area for a nanny?” He asks. “Someone to come and watch Constance and the future Pike brood for us?” He had been thinking about it and it seemed like a good idea and it would allow everyone peace of mind in knowing the kids are close.

“That…” Your eyes flick up to his, wistful smile tugging at your lips and warmth blooming in your heart. “Sounds like a wonderful idea.” Marcus has an uncanny ability to see the future so clearly that it might make you envious if you weren’t so grateful to have him as your partner. “I genuinely love that, baby.”

“You do?” He asks, wondering if you are just agreeing to it because you are so in love with him right now. “I figured it would be a good way for you to see the babies, ours and Syd’s, anytime you get a chance.”

“It’s a lot more practical than driving them to daycare in town only to come back here for work.” Instinct and affection make you want to snuggle into his side again, but you know you have things to do around the possibility that your baby goddaughter is downstairs make you reach for a cardigan instead of your fiancé. “I think it’s smart. And will probably save us some anxiety in the long run.”

“I think so.” Marcus agrees quickly. “There’s someone dedicated to watching them, so work can be uninterrupted, but you can see and snuggle them when needed.”

“Don’t pretend you won’t be working through your lunches sometimes just to get home to them sooner.” It’s an image you can see so vividly that it almost makes you glow, knowing how much Marcus is looking forward to being a father to as many kids as you can manage together.

“Have to make it home before the sun goes down.” He scoffs. “How else will we play ball? It can’t be in the house.”

“The only balls anybody’s playing with in the house are yours when I give you head,” you tell him unequivocally, nudging him toward the bedroom door once you’re both dressed to go brush your teeth together so you can go downstairs and eat.

He snorts in amusement, although he can’t deny that you do play with his balls while you are blowing him. Smacking his lips to your cheek before he loads up your toothbrush and then his, he winks in the mirror – thoroughly enjoying the everyday chores with you.

You’re on your way downstairs within about fifteen minutes. Agent Bailey is downstairs by your office when the elevator opens, having opened up to giving you more space now that you have an armed federal officer in the apartment with you every night. Around the corner and into the kitchen, you have to smother a squeal of delight when you see Syd hovering by the line with little Constance in her baby carrier strapped safely to mama’s chest.

“Told you.” Marcus bumps your arms and immediately grins when he sees the little girl. Shes not too old to stay awake for long and she’s snoozing peacefully while the chaos of the kitchen goes on around her. “This has to be her lullaby.” He jokes. “She grew in the womb to it.”

“Oh my goodness, oh my goodness, oh my goodness.” You scurry to Sydney’s side without hesitation to hug her gently and peer into little Constance’s face. “Hello angel! Oh my goodness she’s so sweet when she sleeps!”

“She’s actually one of those babies that sleeps better amidst the noise!” Sydney laughs and rubs her daughter’s back through the sling, leaning against you instantly. “You caught me, huh?”

“I’m not even cross that you’re poking around work while you’re supposed to be resting because you brought the baby,” you admit, although you restrain yourself from doing anything besides admiring Constance. Waking her up by accident would be awful. “Are you guys feeling okay about coming out tonight?” Juan’s mother had assured her son and daughter–in–law that the baby would be in expert hands if they wanted to make the engagement party their first outing since her birth. And you had also assured them that you wouldn’t be offended if they only came to the party for dinner and headed home before the dancing to be with their little girl.

“I’m looking forward to it.” She admits with a lopsided smile. “Just forgive me if I text my mother–in–law six hundred times to check on her?” She asks, knowing you would never be upset about that. “I don’t know how we are ever going to drop her into a daycare. That’s if we find one that will open up in the next six months.” They have been on a wait list for the daycare of their choice since she found out she was pregnant. There are still twelve other couples on the wait list ahead of them.

“Marcus actually had an idea about that.” A proud grin to your fiancé on the other side of the kitchen where he is getting your breakfast from Syd’s sous chef lights up your whole face. “Why don’t we bring dinner over to your place after the weekend is over and the chaos subsides, and we’ll tell you about it?”

“Of course.” She grins at the way the two of you had made deep and lasting plans. Knowing you deserve all that and so much more. “Indian?” She suggests. “I’m craving curry.”

“We’ll get take out from Rasika. Whatever you want.” While it might be one of your and Marcus’s favourite take out spots, it’s also a favorite of your friend group so that is an easy answer. “And you text home as much as you need to tonight, love.” Casting your eye from mother to daughter, your smile softens and your heart aches from wanting one of your own. “This little angel is worth it.”

“Isn’t she?” Like any new mother, her daughter is the most perfect thing to ever exist. “She’s feeding for longer. She ate four whole ounces yesterday when Juan fed her a bottle.” She’s pumping and they are bottle feeding to make sure Juan gets his own bonding time with Constance when Sydney isn’t breastfeeding. Plus there are times the still recovering mother is too tired to do it. So it helps them tag team their newborn.

You and Syd can and have cooed together over her growing girl for hours at a time, so you don’t even realize you’ve been standing there for ten solid minutes being an absolutely doting pair of sentimental idiots until Marcus comes up behind you and gently slides one hand around your waist.

“You need to eat, sweetheart.” He reminds you, whispering in your ear as he watches the baby sleep against her mother’s chest. He’s gotten to hold her for a bit, but he lets you hold her more when the opportunity presents itself. “We have a lot to do before the party.”

There are two plates with pesto–prosciutto breakfast panini on them sitting on the counter nearby along with two oversized ice coffees and you relent, leaning back against Marcus after giving Syd one more gentle squeeze. “You’re right,” you sigh. “I just want to stare at this little nugget of a baby forever.”

“I know.” Marcus chuckles. “How many times have you thought about having our first since she’s been born?” He teases, knowing he’s also been hit by baby fever as well.

“Like fifteen times a day every single day.” You can’t help but laugh, knowing he feels the same, and you let him peel you away from the baby reluctantly when Syd’s sous chef has a question for her. “Fifteen is a minimum estimate, by the way.”

“I was honestly thinking it was more like thirty.” He laughs. “I’m about that too.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t wait a whole year to get married?” The idea hums through you with excitement. Being able to have a wedding date by tonight would be a fun little plus.

“When’s the last time the roses bloom in the Rose Garden?” Marcus asks, knowing you want to have your wedding there.

“September, really.” The first week of September would be a full year from when Marcus proposed, which seems tidy to you in a way you weren’t expecting but makes you smile. “What if we did early September? Would that step on Constance’s first birthday?”

“I think we should talk about it with the parents, but I don’t see that being a problem honestly.” Marcus hums happily.

"I heard parents!" Syd calls across the kitchen, fearless in the face of a miracle baby who truly can sleep through the chaos of a kitchen. She bounces subtly as she walks across the room, making sure her daughter is comfortable against her chest, and leans against the counter where you and Marcus are having your breakfast. "What's up?"

“We were talking about wedding dates.” Marcus admits, glancing at you with a small smirk. “We don’t want to schedule something to step on the birthday girl’s toes.” He reaches out and caresses the sleeping baby with the back of index finger.

"Were you guys thinking of doing it in September?" She asks, eyes sliding over to you and when you nod through a bite of food she smiles. "What if we pick a different weekend?" Sydney suggests. "I don't want to suggest doing the baby's birthday in place of a day–after brunch or anything. So we can just do two weekends in a row?"

“Or we could.” Marcus offers with a grin. “I know my family is up for celebrating a baby’s first birthday. Especially since they are going to fall in love with her tonight.” He warns. “Constance will be gaining a lot of aunts and uncles.”

"We weren't really planning on having a day–after event anyway," you assure her. There are already so many wedding events on your plate that adding one more sounds overwhelming to you. "What if we added more of Juan's family to the wedding guest list so they'll already be in town, and the next day we can all relax with something much more casual? It sounds...kind of perfect, actually."

“I think that Juan would like that. I thinks it’s perfect.” Their friendship had grown even closer and Juan had confided he wanted more time with his family. It’s the perfect opportunity. “We can book out the inn, right?” He asks you. “And get more hotel rooms, of course.” He chuckles. “My mom has already said she wants to stay here but the Watergate Hotel is calling her name.”

"We could have Connie's birthday here?" You raise an eyebrow to Syd in question. "We'll be surrounded by family and friends and you'll barely have to roll out of bed to get here." The Badillo house is close by and you and Marcus will be more or less in the inn's backyard.

"Comfort food, family event, and very casual." Sydney laughs, but she is nodding her head. "Sean has been a great sous chef. I know he can handle that even with my nitpicky ass hovering over everything."

“It sounds like we have a plan.” Marcus agrees. “So I think our wedding day needs to be the day before little Connie’s birthday.”

"September ninth." Of course you and Sydney say it at the same time, grinning at each other. Constance was born in the wee hours of the tenth.

"That means it will be a long weekend for people. It will be good to give them the date well in advance." It will be beautiful, is what it will be. Beautiful, and fun, and an occasion well worth celebrating.

His suit and your dress in the trunk of the car, Marcus steers towards the venue happily. “So we start getting set up, the band should be there first, right?” He asks. “Get the sound check done before the other vendors?”

"Yeah, that's what we planned on." A White House photographer will also be on hand, documenting the event for any press that Annette deems appropriate. You've left it entirely to her. "Melanie will be there to direct traffic, and she has a room for us to change and keep personal affects in."

“My parents are landing in about an hour.” He reminds you. “They will be out here to help and generally support us as soon as they drop bags in the hotel.”

"Selena, Leo, and Clark are all meeting us out here around the same time. They're riding together." The contingent from Dallas that has moved to DC in the last few months have banded together well and are all excited to join the next board game night. Bringing your friends and his together has been exceptionally easy.

“Perfect.” Marcus chuckles. “It’s a good thing the bartender will be showing up next.” He jokes. “Seriously, if we need to get any last minute items, mom said she’ll send dad.”

"I'm just glad we decided not to do flowers." It had been Junie's idea. During the Friday night dinner after you had booked Monticello, the discussion at the table had turned to decor and when your mother's ideas for florals got overcomplicated it had been your sister who suggested having a few large, live plants amongst the tents and lights and candles on the tables instead. "Melanie pulled those potted plants and light plans out of nowhere and I love her for it."

“I think it will make the wedding even more special.” Marcus admits. “Flowers don’t need to be at every event.”

"The rose garden is going to be spectacular." Your genuine excitement for that is infectious enough that it makes Marcus beam brightly at you as he pulls his car into the large lot around the Monticello visitor center.

“Wow.” Marcus frowns slightly as he sees all the vendor vans. “Are they early?”

"They must be." You check the time on your phone and frown to see that it is a full forty–five minutes before the caterer is set to arrive, and two of the vans nearby are marked with a florist's logo. "Maybe it's for one of the other locations on the property? Melanie did say they had multiple events tonight."

“That has to be it.” He agrees, although he knows the other venues have their own designated parking on the other side. He sends you a smile as he parks. “Let’s go get started.”

Melanie is waiting for you inside, smiling and ready in the lobby. “It’s so good to see you!” The nice thing about her is that she seems to actually mean it. “Your caterers just got here, and the florists are starting to unload. We’re doing great for time.”

“Uh...” Marcus shakes his head and looks towards you. “We don’t have a florist.” He reminds her. “The potted plants were what we decide, right?” He asks, wanting to make sure that the plan hadn’t changed.

"And I confirmed the arrival time with the caterers this morning. They aren't supposed to be here for another hour." Your worried eyes meet Marcus's and then Melanie's. "I think there has been some kind of mix–up."

Her brow furrows for a moment and she nods. “I will go make sure they aren’t supposed to be on the other side of the mansion.” She decides, sure that it’s a simple mistake.

"I'm sure it's nothing." The words come out of your mouth but you aren't convinced. Instead, you squeeze Marcus's hand in yours and head to the small room beside Melanie's office to store your party clothes and purse until you're ready to change.

“I’m sure it will all be worked out.” Marcus promises, reassuring you even if he has his own worry. “Come on, let’s go see the space.”

Once your things are stowed away, the pair of you step outside to the lawn to check out the tents, lights, and plants as they should be finished being put up. But instead of seeing potted plants and fairy lights there are sunflower arrangements and autumn harvest centerpieces stacked out on the banquet tables. Even the tables have the wrong color tablecloths – deep navy instead of the seasonal shade of red that you had picked out.

“Well, shit.” Marcus huffs, clearly seeing the problem and he quickly steps over to the young lady that is directing the flowers. “Excuse me.” He interrupts politely. “I’m afraid there is a problem.”

"There is?" She looks spooked, almost like a deer in the headlights with the large arrangement of flowers in her hands. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure–who are you, exactly?"

“Sorry.” He’s always going to fall back to manners, so he offers her an apologetic smile. “I’m Marcus Pike and this is my fiancée.” He introduces you. “We are setting up for our engagement party tonight and we don’t have floral arrangements.” He explains kindly. “Are you sure you have the right spot here? I know there’s several events happening tonight.”

“Oh!” She laughs in obvious relief and digs in her pocket to pull out some folded paperwork to show you both. “I think you’re in the wrong place, Mr. Pike. We’re setting up for Mr. Chase.”

Fuck. Marcus feels you tense beside him, but he shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry, but I’m not in the wrong place.” He tells her kindly aware that she is a vendor caught in the middle of something. It’s not her fault. “My fiancée and I rented out this space for tonight. Mr. Chase must have gotten his dates mixed up.” Marcus is well aware that isn’t the case, but he won’t air dirty laundry in front of her. “Here.” He pulls out his own contract for the venue that he had slipped into his pocket, always one to cover his bases and he’s glad that paid off.

“That’s weird…” Looking at both contracts, the florist frowns heavily and offers you both an apologetic expression. “Let me get my boss. Hang on one second,” she says before scurrying away.

“Shit.” Marcus hisses, turning towards you. “What are the odds it’s a mix up on Melanie’s part?” He knows the answer, and so do you.

“Zero. That woman is so meticulous it makes Juan look scatterbrained.” Closing your eyes against the frustrated outburst that is pushing on your chest right now, you lean into Marcus and exhale slowly. “I honestly can’t believe he’d go this far.”

“Just plaster on that amazing customer service charm and I will dazzle them with kindness.” He murmurs, leaning in and kissing your temple. “We have the contract for the venue.”

“I love you.” Murmured words aren’t enough to keep your heart from pounding with anxiety, but his arms around you are. Marcus hugs you tight and you just find yourself wondering what the hell happened to turn Sam into this vindictive monster…or if he was always this way and you never knew him at all.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He promises. “It’s just a small bump in the road.”

“I hope you’re right.” It’s terrifying to think that things might go so entirely wrong so early. It isn’t something that sits well with you, especially not when you have almost a hundred people coming tonight.

“It will.” He promises again, kissing your forehead again. “We have a legal contract.”

A serious looking woman with short gray hair and a clipboard comes back with the girl who had scurried away, and she introduces herself only to Marcus with forceful authority. "I understand we have some confusion on our hands?"

“Yes madam.” Marcus shows her the contract that Melanie had given him, clearly stating the space and date were his and gives her an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid your client is mistaken.”

"I'm sure that's not right." The prim woman doesn't even look at the paperwork that is being presented to her. "The Congressman was very specific in his planning and we are right on time in setting up for tonight."

“The Congressman was mistaken.” Marcus insists, a little more firmly. “The First Daughter signed this contract to rent this space tonight for her engagement party. Which the President will be in attendance for.” Titles seem to impress this woman, so he throws out a few that are sure to get her attention.

"Let's see if we can't get all of this sorted out." Melanie has appeared, looking frazzled but quickly recomposing herself with a young man in tow behind her. "It seems that our event staff did not verify paperwork for the caterer or florist when you arrived." She offers the gray–haired woman a professional smile, but you get the impression that the kid behind her with his tail tucked between his legs is going to get his ass kicked for this mistake. "May I see both sets of reservations, please? I'm sure we can get this cleared up quickly."

Marcus steps back and lets Melanie take over, sure that she will be able to clear things up quickly. He turns to you and gives you a reassuring smile.

"Well, I'm not sure what went wrong." After looking over both contracts, Melanie holds tight to both and looks between her actual clients and the florist who apparently should not be here. "But unfortunately, Congressman Chase never reserved this date or location with my office, did not make any payment on the space, and certainly is not hosting an event here tonight. So I'm going to have to ask you to leave, I'm afraid. We do have a contracted event here tonight and our security will be very tight."

“I’m sorry?” Blinking owlishly, the prim woman shakes her head, obviously not used to being told no. “Congressman Chase has a campaign event here tonight. Many important people will be here.”

"More important than the President of the United States?" Melanie challenges, not backing down. What she does, though, is turn to you and Marcus and apologize. "I will take care of this. If you would like to have a seat inside, I will absolutely come and let you know when everything is resolved."

“Thank you.” Marcus takes your arm and leads you towards the building so Melanie can deal with things. “You might want to call that White House press person.” He murmurs quietly. “I have a feeling Chase did this on purpose.”

"I don't know what the hell we did to deserve this," you huff, pulling out your phone to call Annette. She's probably on her way to the venue already but you know she was coming with her husband so hopefully he's driving and she can talk.

“I think he’s got a fucking screw loose.” Marcus mutters, shaking his head at the increasing antics the congressman is pulling.

When the call connects you have to swallow a sound of relief mixed with frustration. Getting to talk to Annette is a relief but you're so frustrated you could scream. "Annette? It's Birdie. We, uh...we have a situation. It appears that Sam Chase has attempted to double book the same venue as us for tonight."

“Oh dear.” The soft sigh is one of practiced patience, having put out many a fire in her day. “It’s not a mistake on the venue?” She clarifies.

"No." You shake your head as though she can see you, but it's just an emotional reaction. "Miss O'Neil is certain there was no mix up in the booking, but there are vendors here to set up for a campaign event that is definitely not supposed to be happening." Glancing up at Marcus beside you, you sigh softly. "Marcus and I suspect that Sam is trying some kind of indecipherable stunt. To make us look heartless or something equally outlandish. Like we stole his venue, I guess."

“Gotcha.” Her voice is slightly terse but it’s not towards you. “I will start making calls to his office right now. You just hang tight and I’ll be there in a few minutes. Don’t worry.”

"Thank you, Annette." Your eyes close against the sinking feeling in your stomach that the night is starting to unravel at an alarming rate. "We'll see you soon."

You end the call and Marcus reaches for you, pulling you into his arms. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” He soothes you, quietly.

“She’s almost here.” The urge to cry out of sheer frustration is strong, and you bury yourself in Marcus’s chest for strength. “What in the hell did we do to deserve this?”

“I don’t know.” He answers honestly, unable to fathom the malice behind the way Sam Chase is operating. “But we will show him that we are not to be messed with.”

“How?” The question is incredulous, but it’s honestly because you’re feeling so at sea with confusion in this whole situation. “By running to my mommy about it? The President can’t kick a Congressman out of power for being a dick to her daughter.”

“By showing him that he holds no power over us.” It’s a bit unsatisfying, being the bigger person and not using his own status to make like difficult for Congressman Chase, but he wants to be above reproach when shit hits the fan. And he has no doubt it will.

“Ugh, that’s so unsatisfying,” you groan, unknowingly echoing his thought exactly. It’s a small mercy to have the same thought, though, and you both laugh. “I want to nail him to the wall but there’s no crime against being an asshole.”

“I know, but he wants to get under your skin.” He reminds you softly. “That’s the entire point of this, I think.”

“Well he’s succeeded.” As much as you hate to admit it, he really has. He’s made you feel guilty and selfish for wanting to celebrate your love with your soulmate, which isn’t fair in the least.

“I know.” Marcus kisses your forehead again. “I’ve never wanted to hit someone more in my entire life.” He huffs. “Not even Patrick Jane when he convinced Teresa to choose him.”

"And that guy was an asshole," you huff, having heard the entire story from Marcus early on in your relationship.

“Yeah…he really is.” He chuckles and pulls away slightly to look into your eyes. “He did me a favor.”

"I don't know what I did to deserve you." His kindness and his support mean the world to you, and the ugly realization that if Marcus had not appeared in your life like a whirlwind that you might still be with Sam? It stings your heart in a way that isn't quite aching or envy but that smacks of bitter regret.

“Just being the most wonderful woman in the world.” He teases, nudging his nose against yours.

"Hardly." Or, at least, it doesn't feel like it right now. But you sigh, letting yourself settle against him and accepting the kiss he offers you before you stand straight again. "We should change a little early," you decide after a moment. "Present a united front of joy instead of looking like we're not quite prepared."

“Whatever you want to do, sweetheart.” He will follow your lead of course, wanting you to feel in charge. Especially with the turn of events.

"I think it might be better." Or, at least, it well help you feel less at sea. Because right now you just feel like you're floundering in uncertainty. "Especially if we have to deal with Sam directly."

“Do you think that he will actually show up?” His brows lift and he doesn’t like that prospect at all. Sam has been exhibiting dangerous behavior, even if he can’t prove it has been him behind the vicious rumors.

"At this point I'm not really sure what to expect at all." But confidence comes from all places, and if right now it comes from putting on the beautiful dress that Alex and David helped you pick out and going out there holding Marcus's hand? Then so be in. Sam does not get to ruin to night, and he does not get to ruin your joy. "But I guess I would rather be mentally prepared for the worst."

“Whatever happens…” Marcus smiles at you proudly. “I’m going to be right there beside you.”

It takes nearly a half an hour to calm down, change clothes, and do your make up, but once you’re ready you head back outside with Marcus to find Agent Bailey waiting for you in the lobby and a commotion outside. “What’s going on?” You ask, though you’re afraid for the answer and not even sure if she will know.

“Miss D’Amario is trying to get the Congressman on the phone,” Agent Bailey explains. “Your vendors are starting to arrive and Melanie had them prepping so they can set up the second the others are cleared away.”

“Vanessa is here?” Marcus looks around warily and spots her standing off to the side looking slightly frazzled as she furiously types on her phone.

“Awesome.” The obvious sarcasm in your voice comes out in a huff. Your exes always being together is more like a Nightmare Team than a Dream Team.

“I’m going to talk to her.” Marcus decides, done with them upsetting you.

“I’m going to stay nearby so that I can intercept anyone who arrives,” you decide. Going up on your toes to give him a kiss, you brush the sharp lapel off his blue suit and offer him your most encouraging smile. “Go get ‘em, Slugger.”

Marcus smiles at your reassurance, but it drops into a frown when he turns and walks towards Vanessa. He’s tired of the games and now, he’s going to face the problem head on. “What is going on, Vanessa?” He demands when he reaches her side. “This is getting ridiculous.”

“What’s going on is crossed wires.” She doesn’t look up from her phone. She doesn’t need to. She still knows Marcus Pike’s voice. “I don’t know how this woman could possibly have booked us both tonight and now she’s playing dumb and getting defensive about it.”

“She’s not playing dumb, but I’m disappointed you are.” Marcus states flatly, sighing softly. “This little game you and Chase are playing needs to stop.”

“I’m not playing dumb.” Vanessa defends, brow furrowed in frustration as she looks up at Marcus after hitting the send button on her text. “The Congressman booked the location himself. All the other vendors were booked by me personally. We’re supposed to be here.”

“Did he forward you the contract and emails?” Her reaction is more honest than he expected and the fact that Sam booked the venue makes him wonder if she was kept in the dark. He pulls out the contract he had tried to show the vendor earlier. “Where is this if Chase actually was double booked?”

“He has the contract. I’m trying to get ahold of him to get a copy right now.” She huffs, frustration and uncertainty lining the worries creases in her brow. “Why couldn’t you two have just had your little party at her hotel anyway? Isn’t that what the place is for? You don’t need the clout of a place like Monticello.”

“Why should she always have parties where she’s doing most of the work? This is our engagement party.” Marcus fires back, unable to believe the condescension in her tone. “What do you have against her, Vanessa? You ended things with me not the other way around. And I thought we ended on good terms.”

“She’s a snob. And dishonest, too boot.” Vanessa doesn’t hold back, obviously pushed to the edge of whatever manners she usually has by the situation at hand. “Almost an entire year in the campaign trail as her mother’s Golden Child preaching freedom of affection and holding Sam up to be the next Jack Kennedy and then she flips her entire platform on a dime when she claims to find her soulmate. It’s pandering, Marcus. And I honestly thought you were better than that.”

“I am her soulmate, Vanessa.” He murmurs quietly. “We didn’t know when we met. I figured it out, that night you broke up with me. Hell, she knew before I did and didn’t say anything because she was with Chase.” He sighs. “So freedom of affection means you can’t choose your soulmate?” He asks. “What about you? You chose your soulmate when you broke up with me. Should I have been spiteful?”

“I always wanted my soulmate.” Vanessa defends, standing up a little straighter and squaring her shoulders. As it that stance somehow gives her a moral high ground. “I support him, and take care of him, and do whatever he needs. That is what love is.”

It clicks, like a bolt of lightning. “It’s Sam, isn’t it?” He asks. “Your soulmate is Sam Chase. That’s why you are doing this.”

The frown on her face flattens into a thin line, unwilling to say a single thing against the man she’s been loyal to for years now. “If I can’t give him the position he wants, I can at least help him make up for what he’s lost,” she reasons, not thinking for a moment that Marcus would understand. He isn’t ambitious the way Sam is. He doesn’t want to lead. To mold an entire nation. Dating the First Daughter was supposed to get him there in leaps and bounds.

He shakes his head sadly, hating to see that Vanessa is blind to what is happening. Willingly looking the other way. “Are you happy?” He asks. “Not being enough?” He folds the contract up and puts it back in his pocket. “If losing access to the White House on a personal level is a detriment, then he’s not a very good politician.” Marcus turns around and starts to walk back towards you.

“No one gets into the White House without knowing someone.” She tells his back, tone laced with bitterness because, No of course she isn’t happy, but why does her ex boyfriend have to be the one to point that out to her? “Just like you don’t get to Hollywood or a record deal or a place in an Ivy League without it.”

He doesn’t answer her, knowing that nothing he says will get through to her. She’s blinded by her loyalty to Sam and her utter devotion to the idea that she should support her soulmate no matter what. It’s a twisted logic and he feels bad for her. When they were together, she was a sweet and earnest woman, looking forward to having a family and building a life with her soulmate.

When Marcus comes back to your side he looks sad rather than angry, and you frown all the more deeply for it. “What’s going on?” You ask gently, letting him lean into your side for comfort. “What did she say?”

“Well….I figured out why Vanessa is so blindly helping Chase with his revenge.” He sighs and glances back at the other woman. “She’s his soulmate.”

“Ah shit.” It was somehow in the back of your mind the whole time, you realize, and now that he’s said it there are puzzle pieces that click into place all too easily. “So this…all of this really is just about the fact that I dumped him?” It makes your skin crawl to think about, a grotesque and unsettling feeling that you know is going to haunt you far longer than you want to admit.

“He wants the White House one day.” He reminds you. “I’m almost positive that he either made promises to people because of having access to the President, or was using that relationship to bolster his career.”

“Well that doesn’t make me feel used and disgusting at all.” You cringe, eyes set down on the sturdy flooring beneath your feet. It’s worse than disgusting, actually. It’s downright humiliating. You’d fallen in love with his act. Bought it hook, line, and sinker. Meeting Marcus may have snapped you out of it, but you had still be entirely fooled for a year.

“Hey.” Marcus reaches for you, rubbing your arms and pulling you closer. “Don’t blame yourself, sweetheart.” He hums. “Chase is a man who put on an act to get what he wants. He has fooled plenty of people.”

“Please know that none of this is because I missed him or still had feelings for him.” Careful not to get makeup on his shirt, you tuck into Marcus’s embrace and breathe in the strength of him. “I’m embarrassed at being taken in so completely. And love you impossibly more for being such a good, honest man.”

“I don’t think you feel anything but heartbroken that he could feign affection for his own personal career gain.” He promises. He would have thought it was because of his feelings for you that he was reacting so badly to this, except for what Vanessa had told him. “Even if you still had feelings for him, I would never expect you to turn off a year of emotions like a switch.” He’s secure enough in your love that there is not any reason to doubt you or be jealous.

“Whatever I felt for him started dimming the second I met you,” you assure him. Even though you and Marcus are strong in the love you have for each other, a bit of reassurance never goes amiss. “More than anything I’m upset with myself for being so blind to his true intentions.”

“Honey, you can’t always see the darkness in someone’s heart.” He reminds you, not wanting you to feel guilty. You have nothing to be upset about. Your intentions have always been good.

“So what do we do now?” He seems to have the answers tonight and there is comfort in that — on top of which, he is the one who talked to Vanessa. “Is she backing down? I don’t want to have to have an altercation.”

“I don’t think she knows what is going on, to be honest.” He admits, looking back at the very flustered woman. “I told her that if it was a venue mix up, the congressman would have a contract.”

“Vanessa does all his bookings.” You look up at him in confusion. “Shouldn’t she have the contract?”

“She said he booked the venue and she booked everything else.” He explains, shaking his head. “It’s pure fucking malice.”

“He never booked it.” The realization kicks you in the gut with the force of a wild stallion. “He’s going to go to the press with a story about us stealing his event venue to make us look bad.”

“What better way to do that, with all the press already here for his ‘event’?” His smile is brittle and humorless.

“I heard the press.” Annette comes swinging around the corner and into view like she’s late for a cue on stage. “Tell me what’s going on, kids. I’ll handle it from here.”

Marcus looks at you for the go–ahead and when you nod slightly, he turns to the White House press agent. “We think Sam Chase did this deliberately.” He explains quietly, not wanting the conversation to go beyond the three of you. “Vanessa D’Amario is his personal assistant and apparently his soulmate.” The older woman’s eyes widen in surprise. “She says that Chase personally booked this venue and she booked the vendors. I think he set this up, knowing we were considering this place to force some kind of public ‘they are pushing their weight around’ accusation.” When it’s voice out loud, it sounds like some kind of conspiracy theory, but he knows it’s true.

“Interesting…” Annette looks between the two of you and offers you both what she hopes is a reassuring smile. “If all of that is true, which sounds alarmingly plausible, by the way…well, it means doing a little politicking of our own. Are you two going to be okay if a little press leak happens ahead of your party?”

“Whatever we need to do.” Marcus agrees easily and then looks at you. “What do you think, sweetheart? I think we’ve been on the defensive long enough. Time to play a little offense.”

“There was going to be press coverage for this party anyway, so why not?” You shrug slightly “Do whatever you think will help, Annette.”

“I’m on it,” she promises, disappearing again in a flash with a wink and a thumbs up.

“Well, if anything, we can prove when we sent out the party invites.” He reminds you with a shrug.

“Annette seems to have it in hand.” The best you can do right now is shrug and check your watch. “Your parents, my siblings, and the first carload of our friends should be here soon.”

“We are a little bit behind, but nothing we can’t deal with.” He promises.

“At least I can hear the band doing sound check.” That in and of itself is a huge relief. It means things won’t be too behind schedule. “Let’s go see who’s here.”

“Of course.” Marcus grins at you. “Maybe we stop by the bar and grab a drink to calm our nerves.”

“Slow sipping,” you agree with a nod of your head. “It makes me extra relieved that we have those charcuterie tables as part of our appetizers. Even if the caterers get held up with the other things, people can graze.”

“You loved that idea and I have to admit that it’s a good one.” He steers you towards the lovely little alcove that the beer, wine and cocktails will be handed out from. The bartender is already set, since the venue provides ice and he is handing you drinks in no time.

The first to arrive are Marcus’s parents. Matthew and Donna practically smother the two of you in hugs immediately, so glad to be here to celebrate that they’re buzzing. How handsome Marcus looks in his suit, how lovely your dress is, the perfect warm autumn night for the party, they’re just delighted to be there and a balm of positivity over your soul.

Marcus points his father to the bar while his mother coos over you with a proud smile. Donna Pike absolutely adored you, it was evident from the way she always asked about you and reached out to you without him as an intermediate, wanting to forge a relationship with you separate from her son.

“We’re so glad you were able to come up on short notice.” It’s a relief (one of many tonight) to have such a good relationship with your fiancé’s mother, and you walk with Donna toward the bar with Marcus walks ahead with his father. “We both would rather have waited on the party than do it without you here.”

“The good thing about what I do is that I can teleconference when needed.” It’s not something she employs all the time, but her only child’s engagement party warranted the change of pace.

“We’re grateful.” Especially now that their presence is a calming balm over both you and Marcus. “And I thought…while you’re here…I was hoping to ask a small favor of you?”

“Anything.” The answer is immediate and doesn’t need any consideration. “What do you need, sweetheart?”

“I was hoping you would be willing to come to lunch with me tomorrow,” you glance up at her with a small smile. “At the White House. For a little wedding planning.” It’s both to include your future mother–in–law in planning that she will not be close by enough to really take part in, but also to have your family around you for an afternoon. “My grandmother’s wedding dress has been passed down and I’d like for you to be able to see it. You know, before any decisions or shopping or anything happens.”

“Oh…” she exhales softly, tears immediately making her eyes water and she nods. “Absolutely. It would be— of course.” She insists. “I would be delighted to come to such an important event.”

“I know it will be hard to have you included in most aspects of the planning,” you explain, wanting to make sure she understands how much you’ve thought about this. “So I wanted to have to you included in the most important ones.”

“And I would have understood if you hadn’t included me at all.” She folds you into another warm hug. “Thank you. And I have something for you.”

“Oh?” In all the commotion you can’t think what it would be — after all, you and Marcus had specified that gifts were not necessary in your invitations for tonight.

She pulls back and reaches into her purse for a card. "I know that we aren't supposed to bring gifts, but..." She looks fondly to where her husband and son are at the bar talking and smiling. "It's the groom's family's responsibility to take care of the rehearsal day and I want you to plan exactly what you want."

“Donna.” She knows very well that you and Marcus are doing well in your careers. Well enough to be able to build a house and plan for a family and all sorts of other things. “You really didn’t have to.”

"Yes we did." She tells you with a small smirk. "You have made Marcus completely happy and that is worth more to me than the national debt your mother inherited."

There is the barest moment of pause before you snort, and you and Donna both bust out giggling. “Well, thank you.” You’ll open the envelope later with Marcus, but for now you give her a very tight hug. “I’m sure everything will go smoothly. It’s just the nerves of everything.”

“Anything else we can help you with?” There’s the briefest flash of unhappiness on your face before you hug her and she knows it’s nothing between you and Marcus that caused it.

"Not at all." Their being here is wonderful, and they're helping financially when they're not obligated to. That is more than enough. "Why don't we grab you a drink and we can take a look around. The view from here is beautiful."

“You have chosen a gorgeous venue.” She marvels, even as the people working continue to bustle around to put the event together.

After procuring a glass of the same spiked hot apple cider that you're drinking for Donna, you turn to look around the lawn with her and actually let yourself smile. "We were here for a day out after our goddaughter was born and we fell in love with it," you tell her. "It was perfect, so we dove in and talked to their event coordinator that day."

“It’s a mixture of homey and sophisticated.” She admires. “I think it’s very fitting for the two of you.”

"I think that's sort of the vibe we're going for with everything," you admit, sipping your drink beside her. "Comforting and fun Americana, but a little sophisticated."

“I think that you’ve nailed it, love.” She agrees, taking a sip of her drink and humming in approval.

"I'm really glad you're here." And while you know that isn't something a lot of people say to their in–laws, you count yourself as lucky. "And I'm just as excited for tomorrow as I have been for tonight."

“I am too.” She admits with a grin. “I am just happy to be included.”

On the edge of the lawn, nearest the parking lot, Annette has intercepted the first batch of friends and family to arrive with a plan and a spark in her eyes. "Alex! June!" She knows the First Children well, and Sydney Badillo as well, flagging down the new mother and her husband when they get out of their car. "I'm very glad to see you all."

“I wonder what this is about.” Juan murmurs to his wife, taking her hand after he rounds the front of the car. “I don’t know.” Sydney frowns slightly, knowing that you hadn’t said much about Annette doing the publicity for the party, but it’s unusual to have her meet them out in the parking lot. “But we will find out.” She murmurs before sending the older woman a warm smile. “Annette! Lovely to see you.”

Alex’s soulmate David, his brother Noah, and Junie’s soulmate all pile out of the cars as well, followed closely by the arrival of Marcus’s cousin Selena and his friends that had moved to DC. This is Annette’s army assembled, and she smiles at the large group. “I wonder if I could ask a favor of all of you?” She poses, knowing there will be a few skeptics in any group. “We’ve had a little mix up here tonight but everything will go smoothly will your help.”

“What happened?” Alex demands, aware more than Junie about all the negative press surrounding you and Marcus lately. He and David both agree it’s a smear campaign.

“It’s not necessary to go into deep detail,” Annette insists. She doesn’t want anyone being pointed or cruel tonight. “But there is someone trying to claim that Birdie and Marcus stole this venue from them for an event tonight. They don’t have any proof that they booked it, of course, but I suspect they’ll try to go to the media with a story for the morning. So I was hoping I could get all of you onto your social media accounts tonight with positive posts from the party and a few mentions about how excited you’ve been for this?”

“Done.” Junie immediately agrees. “I’ve got photos of the invitations to the party when I opened them. I’ll post those with the ‘it’s finally the day!’ theme.”

“We’re on it. A hundred percent.” Alex agrees, glancing up at David and getting a nod from his partner. They don’t have to be told to know who is behind this, and they’re going to do their part to stop the stupidity.

“Do we have an official Insta for Birdie’s wedding?” Junnie asks. “Or should we tag mom’s White House account?”

“Definitely tag the White House.” Annette nods, but she chewed over the question. “But we should do a tag for the event, and maybe a tag for the First Kids? What do you think?”

“It is our sister.” Alex muses. “We should also do a tag for the engagement. Something like fairytale2017 or something as equally disgustingly cute.”

“Maybe we could think of something unique and a little catchy?” Sydney suggests, pulling out her phone. “Something we can use through all the events?”

“Birdie&Marcus’TilEternity?” Junie offers, a slightly dreamy smile as she thinks about soulmates. Since discovering her own, she’s become more of a romantic.

“It’s a little long…” Alex chews on the thought. “FirstWife2018? Like a reference to being the First Daughter?”

Sydney laughs softly, shaking her head. “It would work,” she admits with another laugh. “Except he’s been married before. So technically she’s the second wife.”

“We will come up with something.” Annette agrees. “May I text you all when it’s decided.”

“Of course.” Selena nods her head along with several of the others. “We already have a group chat for planning their combined bachelor/bachelorette party. We can do a version of that group that has you in it, too? In case you need us again.”

“That would be perfect.” Annette agrees. “I will not text without a good reason, I promise.”

There is a little bit of back and forth conversation, but Alex adds Annette’s number to a new group chat with everyone involved and renames the new group Mythbusters with a giggle.

“Oh that’s good.” Sydney snorts when the welcome text pings through and quickly responds with who she is so Annette can associate numbers with names.

“It’s the Congressman, isn’t it?” Selena asks, saving Annette’s number to her phone like the others.

Her brow wings up, nothing getting by the friends and family you have, but she doesn’t answer in the affirmative. “We would just like to get ahead of any potential issues a quickly as possible.”

“That’s yes, in White House Staffer,” June translates for anyone who isn’t familiar. “And I can finally say with glee that something about that guy always felt off to me.”

“I tolerated him.” Sydney admits. “I know Birdie would huff, but he just always was so smug. I wanted to slap him.”

Alex offers here a high five for that and Juan nods in agreement while Annette bites her lip from saying anything unprofessional. “How about something cheeky?” She suggests after a moment, when the murmurs about disliking Congressman Chase have subsided. “The press called her the First Princess after she and Agent Pike were photographed dancing together. Maybe we can do something with that?”

“#PrincessPike2018.” Sydney supplies immediately and Juan chuckles. “They will love it and she will be a tiny bit embarrassed when it trends.”

“Which is perfect.” Selena agrees. She’s taken to this new group of friends like a duck to water, sense of humor included. “We can also do a plain and simple #PikeWedding2018 for all the event photos we’ll end up posting.”

Juan nods. “Well, the official day should have the hashtag #WhiteHouseWedding2018.” He offers.

“Perfect.” Annette agrees with that right away. It’s good social media coverage in every way. Let’s use #PrincessPike for anything relating to Birdie as a bride, #PikeWedding for planning and events, and then #WhiteHouseWedding for the day.”

“That sounds like a plan.” Everyone nods as Sydney answers. “We will start posting things now. Tagging them and Monticello for the engagement party.”

“I appreciate all your help.” Annette steps away, as if she is releasing the group into the wild. “We’ll nip this in the bud and have fun doing it.”

“Is there anything else we can do?” Junie asks seriously, her hand in her soulmates and looking determined.

“Help your sister have a great time.” Annette tells her seriously. “Right now she’s a bit stressed, and nervous. Just go celebrate with your family and she’ll feel better being surrounded by it all.”

“That’s easy to do.” Alex grins. “Come on, Junie.” He chuckles. “Let’s go lovingly bully our older sister.”

"Baby, come here. You have to try one of these." The catering company had agreed to tweak their stuffed mushroom recipe to meet the one created by the Kennedy family's personal chef as written down in his cookbook, and the result is absolutely stellar. "Tell me this isn't the best stuffed mushroom you've ever had in your life."

He hasn't strayed from your side for more than a few steps, so it's easy to come closer. Grinning as he opens up for you to feed him one of the stuffed mushrooms, closing his eyes in utter delight as the flavors burst on his tongue. "Oh god, we are keeping the leftovers, right?" He moans.

"Absolutely." You grin and giggle a little that his face matches yours perfectly. They're little bites of heaven. "I have half a mind to have these at the wedding, too."

"We should." He agrees quickly, picking up another bite off the table and offering it to you since you sacraficed one of your mushrooms for him.

Without looking, he has grabbed one of the little cornbread cups filled with pulled pork with has been your other favorite bite at the beginning of the party. You hum around the delicious choice and sigh happily. "Everyone seems to be having fun. And the band is great, thankfully."

"They are good." Marcus has been impressed with the range of songs they can play, but it's to be expected for a good wedding band. "I'm so glad that tonight has gone off with little more than a slight hitch." He leans in and kisses your cheek. "Everything worked out."

"Fingers crossed that the rest of the night runs as smoothly." It's almost time to start dinner, which will surely come with a couple of speeches but should be a beautiful meal. This catering company is fantastic and the two sisters that run it deserves as much recognition as you can possibly heap on them. They, along with the band, will hopefully get lots of coverage from the White House.

"It will." Marcus doesn't mention that there is the best security that could possibly be provided by the Secret Service at this event. He pecks your lips. "Tonight is amazing and it will continue to be so."

"Are you sure about that?" Having not seen her in a while, it is a surprise when you glance past his shoulder and see Vanessa approaching from the corner of the lawn.

Marcus hisses a quiet sigh and squeezes your hand. "I'll ask her to leave and then I'll have someone escort her out." He tells you quietly, waiting for you to agree with a quick nod before he moves to intercept her.

"I come in peace." Vanessa insists, holding up a hand briefly as though it were a white flag.

"I'm not sure that I believe that." He admits, not calling security over simply to avoid a scene. If he can get her to leaving willingly, it would look better.

"I just came to tell you that my vendors are packed up and we're leaving the premises." She's feeling deflated and frankly embarrassed by being stuck in the middle without any kind of life preserver. The shouting match she had with Sam over the phone inside the Visitor Center did not help. At this point she just wants to go home and open a bottle of wine.

His brow lifts in surprise, sure that she would once again insist that this was their venue. "I have to say....I'm surprised that no guests of the Congressman have shown up." He comments quietly. "It's…almost as if they weren't invited."

"Please don't prod at me." Vanessa huffs, shaking her head slightly. At this point being kicked while she's down would be deserved but humiliating. "I just spent forty minutes making phone calls and having arguments. I have no idea what happened, but it's–it is what it is."

"I'm sorry." Marcus apologizes and bites his lip for a moment. "Why don't you join us for a drink?" He offers, motioning towards the bar. "I'm sure you could use one?" He wants to know what has transpired but he also wants to prove that, despite everything, you and Marcus are not her enemy.

"That...doesn't feel appropriate." It's kind of him, but Marcus is kind. That is part of him. "You guys enjoy your party. It...it looks nice. And the hashtags are a cute touch. Very media friendly." Vanessa sighs again and her deflation happens all over again. "I should...I should go. There are campaign events to plan. Even if this one sort of...imploded."

"Listen...." Marcus frowns slightly and looks over at where you are watching him with avid interest. "I know that we are kind of on opposite sides of the sand, but Birdie and I— we aren't— we don't wish you and the congressman anything more than happiness." He offers softly.

"It's all a little complicated," she admits, though she doesn't relish it. "Sam feels so strongly about this whole situation having two sides but I have to admit that I feel like that attitude is starting to do more harm than good."

"I think it is too." He agrees, nodding and offering her a small smile. "If you need anything..." The offer dies, unspoken, but it's there in case she needs it. Vanessa bites her lip and looks conflicted so Marcus takes that as his cue. "Have a good night, Vanessa." He offers before he turns back to return to your side.

"Is everything okay?" There wasn't any shouting or any real fighting that you could see, but Marcus looks upset when he comes back to you.

“Yeah, it’s good.” Marcus reassures you, rubbing your shoulder and bringing you closer for a kiss. “I think – I hope – that she’s starting to see the light in this entire situation.”

“Some cracks in the shiny veneer of it all?” You feel bad honestly. Vanessa might be blindly loyal but she never seemed outright cruel to you.

“I think so.” He hums. “She desperately wanted her soulmate, so I think she justified a lot in her mind.”

“I feel so bad.” There are a lot of people in the world who suffer in different ways for want of their soulmate, and Vanessa might not be your favorite person but she still doesn’t deserve to have that kind of pain.

“I do too.” Marcus admits, but he shrugs. “No one ever said every soulmate match was good.”

“I’m just glad I have you.” Your arm around his waist and your head momentarily on his chest are so grounding and so incredible calming. Just because you could weather the storm of the old without him by your side doesn’t mean you ever, ever want to. Not anymore. Not now that you know how much better it can be. “I love you, Marcus. More than words.”

“You are part of me.” He promises. “My soul, my heart, my thoughts.” He smiles softly, unaware that the moment is being photographed and posted online with the captions declaring true love was real.

“I’m stealing that for my wedding vows,” you chuckle softly, admittedly because you’re so choked up in the moment.

“Steal away, sweetheart.” He kisses your forehead and sighs, letting the problems of the day fade and just reminding himself that everything is perfect now. He has you.

______

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#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x you #Marcus Pike x reader #Marcus Pike x female reader #Marcus Pike x f!reader #The Mentalist #soulmate au #First Daughter reader #Juan Badillo #Graceland #Juan Badillo x f!OC #Juan Badillo x OC #PrincessPike2018 #PikeWedding2018 #WhiteHouseWedding2018

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