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#also I worked on this while listening to some smut audio between the two
purplebluepen45 · 1 year
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12 Days of Fontcest
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"SLEEP WELL, BROTHER..."
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Prompt by @underfellover
What? That's literally their PJs. Sans' too lazy to even change his clothes and Papyrus loved the costume so much that he wouldn't take it off. It's to show how much he appreciated Sans' work on his costume ^^
And... the heck-?! This took me so long to get the proportions right and I wanted to add Papyrus' scarf blanketing them, but uhhhh... this was already too much for me ^^;
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dwaekkicidal · 17 days
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Sharing is Caring
˚ʚ3racha x Fem!readerɞ˚
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ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: After finding what Stray Kids' closest female friend really does with their leader behind closed doors, Jisung and Changbin decide they want in too.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 6.1k
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: fem!reader, slight angst before the first divider? But it gets resolved like immediately, fluff, nicknames used: 'baby girl, bunny, jagi(ya), and baby,' ot8✗reader mentions but smut is written for 3racha✗reader, Changbin has a fat crush on u, Chan✗reader action, Changbin✗reader action, some m✗m action: Chan✗Jisung mentions, fingering, squirting, exhibitionism, rough sex, (1½) pvssy slaps, hair pulling, overstimulation (?), readers a brat for 2 seconds, Channie is referred to as “Daddy” and Changbin as “Sir”, p in v, creampie & no protection (don't be silly wrap ur willy also pee after sex pls), blowjobs, a handjob, I think thats it?
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: an audio I heard a few weeks ago inspired this... I actually have no clue how this came out of that audio but you’re welcome (or I'm sorry)
edit; part 2 and 3 are 100% happening now! theyre both in the works & i will update this linking both parts once they are done (i wont spoil the pairs yet tho :3)
MDNI!! smut below the cut
DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ PSA: Sorry if you find this annoying, but I put so much yapping talking that I was only comfortable posting this with color-coded dialogues: If you hate it let me know so that I don’t do it again, but it kinda worked out so I kept it in instead of adding a million more words for nothing
Chris | Binnie | Hannie | You
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You’re currently sitting in Stray Kids’ studio at the JYP building. Chris sits beside you in the other office chair at the desk, while Changbin and Han sit on the couch. Both staring holes into your heads as yours stare on the floor in embarrassment. They just walked in on you and Chris fucking in the studio, right in the very chair Chris was sitting in.
Speaking of, you see in the corner of your eye as he rubs his hands all over his face in frustration, his ears a very bright red. “Listen.. Normally we wouldn’t be stupid enough to do that in a public setting.. But I didn’t know you two were coming today and we got carried away..”
You glance up to see Changbin frown at the older boy, his eyes full of anger. You look over and check on Jisung, his eyes glossy. You furrow your eyebrows and lift your head fully. “Hannie..” You start, but immediately give up on your sentence when you see Changbin’s eye snap his eyes to you, the anger still prominent.
“Okay well… I don’t think that's the problem here… Do what you want, hyung. It’s your life..” Han starts, staring at you for a moment before continuing with a deep breath. “But you know how both of us feel about her. Hell. How the entire group feels about her. You have to see this from our point of view.”
Chan fixes his posture at the sentence and you look between the boys with pure confusion on your face. “Huh??”
“In my defense, I didn’t know how you guys felt until we were already messing around. We had already agreed on this arrangement months prior to the first person saying anything.”
“Arrangement?” Binnie says with the most attitude you’ve ever seen come out of him.
“We’re not dating.. We’re just…. friends with benefits. Sex with no extra emotional strings attached.” Chan sighs loudly, rubbing the back of his neck and continuing. “In all honesty, me and her talked about including you guys but we were afraid it would ruin things. Ruin the group as a whole.”
You start to feel frustrated, they're talking as if you’re not even in the room and when that's mixed with the ruined orgasm you just had, you can't help but get annoyed. “Hello?? I’m still here by the way. Can one of you tell me what the fuck is going on before I leave.” You narrow your eyes at the three of them and cross your arms. They’re caught off guard at your tone, you’ve never spoken to them in any tone outside of a sugary sweet one with pretty doe eyes. Even Changbin’s demeanor falters before he cracks his own neck. “Bunny. You haven’t noticed anything odd? How Hyunjin paints you every chance he gets? How Yongbok gives you all kinds of sweets and says that he ‘baked too much’? Not even the princess treatment that SEUNGMIN of all people gives you?”
You furrow your eyebrows at him before sputtering out, “W-Well yes, but I thought that was just normal behavior.”
Han lets out a tense laugh at that, when you turn to him he decides to continue for Changbin. “Jagiya, we don’t even do these things with each other… all of us are pretty in love with you. We have been for a long time to be honest. Though.. some of us…” he pauses before stealing a glance at the timid boy beside him. “Some of us fell faster and harder than the others. At the end of the day, you have all 8 of us wrapped around your finger.”
All the attitude and anger in your body is suddenly flushed out, replaced with confusion and surprise, “Wait..” When you think back to what Changbin said, the pieces start to click together. All 3 boys watch your reaction nervously, and Changbin lets out a slight sigh of relief when he sees the gears turning in your head. “She actually had no clue.”
“I tried to not blatantly say anything about it once I found out. But I honestly thought you knew about some of the members, baby girl?”
“I had no clue… I’m so sorry Binnie, Hannie..” You hear Han let out a sigh as your eyes watch Changbin’s, they stare into you less angrily but it makes the hurt more evident. You frown sadly at him and let your head hang, not sure what to do with this situation.
“It’s okay, Jagi. Now that I know you were oblivious about our feelings, I don’t think I’m as upset. More so at Channie-hyung for getting to you before us. But I’ll get over that feeling soon.. I don’t know about him though.”
The man in question’s eyes never leave your form, but he takes Han’s words to heart and takes a few deep breaths. “I don’t know. I’m quite hurt but Han is right. It’s honestly our own faults for not being clear with you.”
His words hang in the air for a while before you fix your posture and look over at Chris, meeting his eyes. He tilts his head at you, but you quickly turn to look between the other boys. “What's going on in your head, pretty?”
“Mm.. Well Channie did already spill the beans on what we spoke about.” You say, looking up at each boy before being met with confusion on each of their pretty faces. You clear your throat before continuing, “About… me being with all of you guys..” You pause once more to gauge their reactions, when you don’t see any negativity you finish your thought: “If you guys are okay with sharing, I don’t think I would mind dating all of you. At the end of the day I have been loyal to you guys anyways... So if everyone is okay with it, it could work.”
Chris’ head snaps to the couch to try and read their expressions. He can see Changbin thinking deeply about it and the faint blush on Han’s cheeks more or less gives him an answer. “Only if you guys are okay with it. I told you already, even before I knew about everybody’s feelings I was easing her into the idea of being with us all, whether that be through dating or her being our mutual friend with benefits.”
Han nods and looks over at Changbin, nervously watching his reaction as he mumbles out an “I’m okay with it.. Only if Changbin-hyung is too.” At the mention of his name, Changbin blinks multiple times to bring himself back down to earth. Once he realizes the outcome of this is in his hands, he gulps and clears his throat. “I… I don’t know..”
“If you need time to think about it, I’ll give you as much time as you need. In the meantime, Chris and I will stop everything we do and we’ll go based on what you guys are okay with.” Changbin furrows his eyebrows and looks at his hyung, who nods in agreement with your promise. “I told you, we spoke about this before. Many times actually. If enough of you weren’t okay with it, we agreed to cut things off completely for the sake of our friendships being more important.”
Changbin slowly nods, “I… I need some time to think about it.” You and Chris nod before meeting each other’s eyes for a moment. “Okay well, we should head home then. The song can wait, we’ve all had a long night.”
Everyone silently agrees and one by one the studio empties. You were the last to leave, but you quickly caught up to Changbin, wanting to have a 1 on 1 chat with him. “Binnie. I really am sorry. If I had known earlier then I wouldn’t have let us do this for so long without involving you guys. I feel horrible.”
He smiles softly at you, placing a hand on your head and massaging your scalp with his fingertips. “I know, Bunny. I’m not really mad anymore, I just don’t know if I can handle sharing you. Jisung and I spoke about it a few times but we thought it wasn’t even on the table.”
You nod and shuffle on your feet. He thinks for a moment before looking at you nervously, “Can you answer a question I have truthfully?” When you nod eagerly he continues, “...If you would date us all, as in all 8 of us.. Could you actually see yourself loving us all equally?”
You bite your lip before laughing nervously, “That’s honestly not even a question to me… I already love you all equally. I wasn’t lying when I said I had been loyal to you guys ‘anyways’. I turned down so many idols and random people on the street because I knew I had you guys. I knew how much I loved you all and I knew wasting time with these people to get over my feelings wouldn’t be worth it. So I sat patiently and waited to see how things would go.”
He lets out a breath that he didn't realize he was holding, letting out a light laugh of relief. “Can I hug you, Bunny?”
“Please.” He smiles and pulls you into his arms, the two of you stay in the embrace until Changbin gets a call from Chan, telling him that the taxi is outside and they’re waiting for him. You say your goodbyes and go your separate ways.
Now we wait..
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A few days pass as normal, and you almost forget about what happened in the studio. When you’re lounging on the couch scrolling through a streaming site, you hear your phone ding a few times and it makes your stomach drop. You drop the remote immediately and in seconds your phone is unlocked with your text messages open.
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Your hand slaps over your mouth and you squeal, not being able to contain your excitement, and you spend the next few days excitedly preparing yourself for Friday night.
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When the night comes, you walk into their dorm as if it was any other day. When you meet the eyes of the men sitting at the dining table, you hesitate. All three sets of eyes look up at you, the older boys hold soft smiles while the youngest is biting his lip with red cheeks.
After some time of the awkwardness in the air fading, the four of you talk boundaries. In summary, you all agreed on:
Changbin only wants to fuck you, Chan and Jisung are open to anybody but mainly want you, and you want all 3 of them.
Specific kinks were talked about, but everyone agreed on rougher play for the night, just nothing too extreme yet. Specifically yes to spanks, rough fucking, choking, and hair pulling.
Chris closes it out with a few statements: “If, at any point, you aren’t sure to keep going, we use the traffic light system. Just ask her what her color is and she’ll respond with ‘red’ for stop, ‘yellow’ for slow down, and ‘green’ for keep going. And aftercare is a MUST. You don’t give her aftercare, you don’t get her at all.” When the other men agree, he leads you guys to the dining room where the coffee table is already moved to the side.
Before you know it, you’re sitting on their dorm’s couch, shyly playing with the strings on your sweatpants. All 3 men are standing between you and the tv, thanking every god they know that Hyunjin is out of the country for the week. Chan warily looks over his members faces, looking for any sign of hesitation. Instead he’s met with both basically eye-fucking you and Jisung already hard as a rock through his jeans. He laughs to himself quietly before looking over at you, initially looking for an unsure reaction from you as well. But when he watches your eyes jump between the other 2 and you bite your lip, he takes a breath before speaking.
“Since this would be both of your first times with her, I’ll show you all the good spots and how to play with her properly.” You roll your eyes and frown up at him from your spot on the couch. He gives you an amused smile and you watch from the corner of your eye as Changbin grabs a chair from the dining room, placing it in front of the tv so that it faces the couch. Chris swiftly pulls you to your feet before taking a seat on the chair. He pulls you into his lap and makes you face the other 2 men, who are now seated on the couch patiently waiting for the scene in front of them to unfold.
“You ready, baby?” He asked into your neck, his thick lips already placing wet kisses and his hands already pulling at the elastic of your sweats. You make a scene to hold eye contact with both men on the couch before responding to the one below you, “Yes, Daddy.” When Changbin’s eyes widen before he closes them and lays his head back, you giggle to yourself and move your eyes over to Jisung. You hear him groan and class a hand over his mouth, and when he notices your eyes are staring into his wide boba ones you smile innocently and tilt your head at him.
By the time both men recover, Chris is already pulling your sweatpants and underwear from your ankles, then moving his hands to the base of your crop top. He finally breaks away from your neck to pull it off, unintentionally showing off the red marks all over your neck to the couch. As the shirt gets pulled above your head, you hear a gasp from the couch and Chris’ voice against your ear. “And no bra? Baby.. you’re gonna kill them haha..”
You bite your lip and smile before teasing, “If they let themselves die this easily then you can have me all to yourself again.” You almost miss the way Changbin’s eyes narrow with how focused you are on Jisung’s growing pout. You hear Jisung let out a “Hey..” before you laugh and stick your tongue out at both boys. Immediately after, you feel your legs get hooked over Chris’ wide stance. 
He teases you by softly rubbing his hands against your inner thighs, nipping at your neck and ear as he does so. His left hand slowly trails up your stomach until he meets your chest and starts toying with your nipples. The hand still on your thigh trails up higher and higher until you feel him spreading your folds with his index and ring finger, using his middle finger to slide against your clit and down to your hole. You slump against him when you feel him slide two fingers in you, his thumb replacing his middle finger on your clit. You faintly hear Chris say something to the other boys about where they should try to angle their fingers. When he angles his hands the way he describes, it rips a desperate moan from your throat and your legs tighten against his.
Both boys on the couch adjust themselves in their pants at the sight of you spread so widely in front of them, Han nodding enthusiastically with each sentence that comes out of Chris’ mouth. With the fast pace his fingers set, it doesn’t take long for your orgasm to build up.
You feel yourself getting close and Chris catches on very fast. He pulls his fingers away and lands a smack to your inner thigh before grabbing your chin and raising an eyebrow at you. “Did I say you could come yet? You didn’t even ask permission.” You almost miss Jisung’s moan at the action, but quickly respond with a, “N-No, Daddy. I’m sorry Daddy.”
He tsks at you before softly running his hands along your thighs again, “Just because I’m showing the boys how to play with you doesn’t mean that our rules aren’t in place. Don’t be a bad girl and make me punish you in front of them already.”
“Yes, Daddy” you whine out as you nod feverishly, your orgasm fading away slowly. He hums before returning his hand to your cunt, playing with your folds as he gets lost in thought for a moment. You sigh and lean your head into his neck once releases your chin.
You almost say something about the lack of stimulation when Chris suddenly pushes you on your feet, keeping a hand on the small of your back as he quickly stands. He sits you on the chair but pulls you down so your ass is hanging off the chair, legs folded into each other as he puts you on display towards the couch. You feel butterflies in your stomach, remembering just exactly what Chris made you do the last time you both were in this position.
You shiver as his fingers softly caress your folds, he looks down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Once he realizes that you knew what his plans were, he bites his lip and smirks down at you. When your lips open to say something, he suddenly returns the 2 fingers inside your hole to prevent words from forming. You guys hold eye contact for a moment, but once his fingers dig into your gummy spot roughly, your mouth opens in a gasp and your eyebrows raise. Your eyes threaten to close as you watch him meanly mimic your facial expression and rub against the spot harder.
Your legs already start to shake and you throw your head back against the chair with a whimper, closing your eyes when the stimulation is a little too much. A firm grip in your hair pulls your face to meet his, he places a gentle kiss to your lips before adding a third finger. He ruts them into your soppy cunt over and over again until you hear him laugh when your eyes slam shut again. You’re sure both boys can hear the wet noises coming from between your legs. You wish you could see their faces, but at this point you figure Chris is trying to put on a show for them so you don’t complain.
“F-Fuck!!! Daddyyy!! I-I can’t..” You cry out, one of your hands meets his and your nails dig into his wrist as your thighs clamp shut. He pulls his fingers out and pins both your hands against the top of the chair with his spare hand. He lands a slap on your cunt and doesn’t give you time to react before he slams three fingers back in and resumes his bullying pace.
He coos at you, pressing a kiss into your calf, “You can, baby girl…” He pauses before positioning his hand so that his palm could bully against your clit with the thrusts. His tone is much darker when he continues, “I won’t stop until you do. So you better give them a pretty view, yea?” You gush more around his fingers as and when you clench harshly, he leans down to push his lips against yours.
At this point, Han has caught on to what Chris is trying to do, and he finally can’t stand the tightness in his jeans so he removes them. He quickly pushes his boxers down and can’t stop himself from fisting his cock at the sight of your cunt and ass on display for them, your wet cunt dripping down your ass as Chris continues his pace. Changbin on the other hand, isn’t fully sure what is going on. But that doesn’t stop him from palming his bulge, biting into the pointer finger on his other hand to keep quiet.
The sounds coming from you somehow get louder and you pant into Chris’ mouth, moaning against his lips as you feel the knot snap in your stomach. Suddenly you squirt all over his arm, squealing into the kiss as Chris rides your high. He fingers into you roughly before giving you a second to squirt more, then forcing more out of you. He repeats this until you pull away from his lips and gasp desperately for air, and he finally slows his hand to almost a complete stop, letting you breathe. He softly slaps your cunt as he pulls away from you fully to admire the mess you made.
“I told you, baby girl.” He laughs, ghosting his hand over your inner thigh as he watches you glisten. He pulls away from you completely, pulling his shirt off in one go and using it to wipe your thighs down and throwing it onto the puddle you made on the floor. He pulls you back to your feet, and holds you up with both hands as your legs shake aggressively, before sitting back down and resuming the earlier position: you on his lap.
He showers your neck and your cheek in kisses as your legs stay glued shut, his thighs making sure of that as they stay against yours. One of his hands holds you against him while the other caresses your hip affectionately. He knows you’re not in this plane of existence from how quiet you are, so he tries his best to ground you with as much physical touch that he can offer.
After a short while, your soul finally returns to your body. You mumble something incoherent and he takes that as a sign that you’re still there. He giggles into your neck, trailing his kisses down to your shoulder. You feel his arms tighten around you before he’s whispering against your skin, “You alright, baby? What’s your color?”
You sigh into his hold and whisper back a “Yellow.. Just give me a minute.”
Once you deem yourself ready, you let him know. He reluctantly loosens his hold on you and clears his throat, placing a final kiss on your shoulder before looking up. “Now that she’s ready for you both.. who wants to play first?” Chris asks as he eyes dart between the boys you completely forgot about. The two in question glance at each other quickly before wordlessly deciding to keep quiet and let Chris choose. Chris nods in understanding before glancing over at the youngest and watching the way he’s slowly fisting his cock as he waits for the next move. Chris very quickly thinks back to the boundaries everybody set earlier and he smirks against your shoulder. He whispers something in your ear, just low enough so neither of the other men can hear it.
But when you smile and slide off Chris' lap, softly crawling towards Changbin on all fours, both boys on the couch suddenly fix their posture. Han almost whines at the thought of Changbin getting you first until he watches the oldest stand up and saunteer towards him. He gulps and looks up at the man, biting his lip when Chris leans down and grabs his chin to hold eye contact. “You still okay with us playing a little bit, Hannie?” Not fully trusting his voice, Jisung nods eagerly and allows Chris to take control, "Please..."
While the two boys to your right get lost in each other, you sit at Changbin’s feet and look up at him with puppy dog eyes. You even go as far as to tilt your head and rest your cheek against his knee. “Hi Binnie~” You whisper out, “Can you play with me? Pleasee?”
He curses under his breath and nods, “Y-Yeah.. Yeah we can play, Bunny.” You smile in response and bite your lip, undoing his jeans before pulling them off his legs. He pulls his shirt off as you leave soft kisses up his thighs. He shudders the closer to his crotch that you get, and breathes harshly when you place a kiss to his dick through his boxers. He sighs when you back away and pull his underwear down just enough so that his dick slaps against his tummy. You pause for a second to admire his width. He’s so hard and his tip has a mean red tint; you’re almost afraid of taking him.
Suddenly the man above you laughs and pulls you up onto his lap, letting his dick rest between you two. He quickly pulls you into a kiss, running his hands up and down your sides softly. Your own hands are running up and down his biceps and squeezing, finally relishing in the feeling of his muscles against your hands. When a hand of his slides down to your ass to squeeze, you smile into the kiss and angle your head so that you are making out even deeper. It’s very short lived however, because the hand that was squeezing your ass pulls back and lands a slap to your cheek.
You jump in against him and pull away from his lips, frowning at him. He laughs at you before landing another to your other cheek. “Those are for the little comment you made earlier about Chan getting you to himself after this.” You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest and snapping back, “Well soooomebody doesn’t know how to take a joke.” Changbin’s mouth opens slightly and his eyes narrow dangerously at you. If it wasn’t for the fire in your abdomen that grew from his stare, you would have been terrified and apologized right away.
You quickly think that should have been the case when a hand shoots forward and clamps around your neck, squeezing tightly right off the bat. You let out a gargled noise as his other hand lands 2 harsh slaps to your ass cheeks, massaging against them right after. “I’m sorry... What was that?”
Jisung and Chris pull a few inches away from each other at the sound. Jisung’s hips buck up into Chris’ hand and he lets out a pathetic whine at the sight of your ass cheeks already turning a darker red. The man above him lets out an exasperated laugh before saying “Oh yeah, I should’ve warned you two that she can be a stupid brat sometimes. I would say I’d teach you how to deal with it, but it seems like you got it under control already. You know what to do, baby. Be a good girl for Binnie, or else I'll handle you myself.” Changbin steals a confused glance at his hyung before returning his gaze to you, loosening his grip on your neck to give you more breathing room. He watches your eyes meet Chan's and you gulp deeply before wresting your hands on his chest.
“‘M sorry Binnie. I’ll be good now I promise.” His hand loosens the grip on your neck you all the way at your puppy dog eyes stare into his, but they stay resting against your throat as Chris speaks up again. “Not ‘Binnie’ baby.” Your eyes meet Chris’ again and he smiles at you teasingly, his hands still stroking Jisung at a slow pace that has the boy whining into his hand. You bite your lip at the sight of Jisung looking fucked out already and turn back to Changbin and retry, “I’m sorry sir. I’ll behave now.” You watch Changbin swallow thickly before leaning his head sideways and letting out a curse.
“Atta girl, baby.” Chris says, before turning back to the squirming boy below him.
Changbin quickly mutters an ‘Up’ before you climb out of his lap to stand in front of him. He quickly swaps spots with you, making you sit on the couch as he stands above you, kneeling against the cough to ground himself. He strokes himself a few times, not bothering to prepare you any more than Chan did already. He pulls your legs up and holds them near your chest, and then he finally sinks himself into you. He keeps his eyes on your face the whole time, mainly watching for possible comfort changes in your expression. But when your jaw drops at the stretch and you take over his hold on your legs, he can’t help himself from staring for other reasons. While you’re busy hugging your legs into yourself, he trails a hand to your mouth and positions his thumb to press down on your tongue. With every inch of his duck entering you, you swear you lose another piece of your mind. And after what feels like forever, his hips finally meet the backs of your thighs
He lets out a shaky sigh and lightly thrusts into you, testing the waters before pulling out farther and setting a calm pace. For a while, he softly thrusts into you, just savoring the feeling and sight of your tight cunt around his dick. It’s not until you let out a whine that his eyes return to your face. His hips stutter and he watches in awe as he pulls his thumb from your drooly mouth. While that thumb moves down to draw circles onto your clit, you look up at him pleadingly before begging so sweetly. “Please, Sir. Please I promised I’d be good. Just fuck me hard, please please please.”
From the other side of the couch, Chris’ ears perk up at the sound of your begging. He chuckles breathlessly and it takes everything in him to keep his eyes on the pretty boy who’s on his knees below him. “F-Fuck. Bin I usually have to overstimulate her for her to beg like that. You must’ve fucked her stupid already.”
Changbin’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the sentence and he starts up a rough pace, pounding into you fast before responding, “Y-Yeah? You think so?”
You throw your head into the couch at the new rhythm, nails digging into your legs at the stimulation. After squirting like that earlier, you’re not sure you can last very long and that’s made even more true by the sloppy presses you feel on your clit. Not long after this pace was set, you feel yourself rapidly approaching your high.
You manage out a: “Binnie- S-Sir, can I cum please.. I want you to cum inside… I’ve b-been good, right?” and he groans in response, nodding his head and leaning into you, his fingers never leaving your cunt and his pace never faltering. “Yeah, baby. Don’t worry, Binnie’s got you.” His body weight on your legs gives you an uncomfortable stretch, but when his lips meet yours in a sloppy kiss, you can’t find it in you to complain. Almost immediately after that, his spare hand leaves a slap to your ass, and you cum on impact. Your lips detach from his as you let out desperate wails, trying to take deep breaths while he slows his pace to make slower but deeper thrusts into you. His gaze meets your teary eyes before he dips to your neck, biting and sucking marks onto the skin. He follows suit not long after, groaning and biting harder subconsciously as he rides out his high.
You lay against each other, catching your breaths before you let out a pained whine. “Binnieee… my legs..” His mind is still foggy from that strong of an orgasm, so it takes him a second to pull away. Once he does, he softly rests your legs against the couch and massages the muscles, already knowing which ones would be hurting. He watches your mixtures of cum ooze out of your cunt, and onto the couch. He would normally freak out at such a viscous substance getting the couch dirty, but his zips his mouth shut and watches in awe for a moment. You don’t fully notice when he walks away due to getting distracted by the other end of the couch.
Chris let out a few gasps that turn to groans, signaling that he’s dangerously close. You quickly turn your head to watch as Jisung deep throats him all the way, even gagging a few times. You whine out something along the lines of, “That’s so hot..” but it meets none of their ears as Jisung’s nails rake down Chris’ thighs, his hips buckling as he cums hard. He throws his head back and holds a firm grip on Jisung’s permed hair as he thrusts softly into his mouth, quickly angling his head back towards the boy to watch him swallow around his length. Slowly the grip on the younger’s hair loosens, and you and Chris watch the boy on the floor with lidded eyes. Jisung hollows his cheeks and slowly pulls off the eldest’s dick, he matches the older’s gaze and shows off the contents on his tongue before making a show of swallowing it, showing his empty tongue after. Chris throws a hand over his eyes and whines, resting his head against the back cushion as you sit there and laugh. You and Jisung meet each other’s eyes before you wink at the boy, blowing him a kiss with a fucked out smile on your face.
By now Changbin is returning to the living room with a warm cloth, wiping you down gently before throwing it onto the pile of your clothes. Chris disappears to his room to grab shirts of his for you and Jisung while Changbin throws the scattered clothes of yours into his own hamper, and Jisung’s into his hamper. While the two eldest members run around cleaning, and preparing blankets and snacks for a cuddle session, you and Jisung embrace each other on the couch. You rest your head against his shoulder as your breaths even out. You could fall asleep at this point, but you’re quickly distracted by the boy’s bulge in his underwear.
“Hannie… you’re still hard?” You laugh. His cheeks and ears turn red before he laughs too. “Yeah… I came in the beginning, but watching you and Changbin-hyung while watching Channie-hyung come undone got me hard again. It was all just too hot..” You laugh into his shoulder but trail one of your hands to the bulge, trailing a featherlight touch that has the boy’s thighs clamping together. “Can I help you then, Hannie? Me and you didn’t get to play. I can’t go another round but I’ll happily suck you off.”
You hear a shaky breath as his hips buck against your hand. “Fuck,, Yes please, baby.” Giggling, you drop down to your knees for a 2nd time tonight, pulling his boxers down just enough to free his cock. You take it in your hands and pump it, placing teasing kisses up and down his shaft. You smirk against him when you feel his hand slip into your hair, grabbing a tight but not painful grip as a warning to stop teasing. You hum and lick a long stripe until you reach his tip, placing a final kiss there before you take him all the way to the hilt. The grip in your hair tightens as you hum and hold your spot against his pubic bone, some of the hair there tickling your nose. You hollow your cheeks and swallow around him a few times before pulling away, stroking him while you rasp out, “You wanna fuck my mouth baby?"
You swear his eyes sparkle as he nods enthusiastically. His hands quickly move to rest against the back of your head, “Hit my thigh a few times if you need a break, ok?” You nod and smile up at him, happy that he still genuinely cares about your well being. Your smile fades as he moves your head against him, slowly fucking your mouth against his dick as he lets out a sigh. You hollow out your cheeks and feel the grip on your head get harder. He starts fucking himself into your throat, using all his will power to not do it as rough as he wanted to, ‘We can save that for another day’ he argues to himself. It doesn’t take long for him to reach his high, his thighs shaking as memories of what happened less than 10 minutes ago resurface to his mind.
He goes to pull you away as he cums, but you swat his hands away and take matters into your own hands, literally. One of your hands trails up his stomach, your nails ghosting around his chest as your other hand reaches up to fondle his balls. It’s all so sudden and he chokes on his own drool when he tries to warn you that he’s cumming, but regardless you swallow every last drop. Once his hips relax back into the couch, you pull back so that only the tip is in your mouth, sucking hard to get every last drop and he lets out the whiniest cry you’ve ever heard.
As the older boys return with blankets and snacks, you and Jisung pull away from each other. Eventually everybody is settled and a movie is chosen, the four of you cuddle up to each other and relax. Han is laying with his head against your chest when he suddenly lets out a laugh that startles your sleepy form. The three of you look down at him with different confused expressions before he chuckles to himself again.
“The others are missing out sooo bad.”
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toji-girl · 3 months
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watch me | t. fushiguro
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synopsis: After a messy breakup, you require a new job which leads you to work for the biggest porn site in the industry but little did you know that it would lead to the one thing you didn't want.
wc: 8.4k
tags: 18+ ONLY content + explicit smut: minors and empty blogs DNI + repost + porn star au + Toji stalks you and is very possessive and in love with you he's sick with it + you x other character + fingering + you get horny a lot + roleplay + spitting + Toji man handles you + consensual recording + praising + unprotected sex + sending nudes to Toji + sexting + phone/video sex + talks about sex work + blowjob + pussy eating + brief pussy job + breeding + lots of kissin' + snow balling + sensual sex + 69 position + hand job + teasing + nipple play + + feedback is appreciated + any missing tag lmk
for kinktober '23 | PLEASE do NOT use coconut oil as lube! this is written for fictitious purposes only!! also pls forgive me because I couldn't find much information on how to become a porn star so I made things up dfhztht
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You looked down at the boxes by your feet with a frown while your dad kept pulling them from your trunk with irritated huffs. “He couldn’t even help you? What a real piece of work. I knew that guy was not a good man.” He muttered picking up a bag with a grunt with you not wanting to correct him on the situation, you didn’t want him helping or coming over to your new place even though he offered.
With no choice, you followed after him holding a box to take in your new apartment after moving out and breaking up with Toji, and naturally, your father couldn’t stand to see his daughter so hurt over a man way older than you.
Not only did he break your heart but kicked you out and left you to fend for yourself, and no matter even if you did tell him, it was your decision, he would still blame him, he’s never liked the raven-haired man since you brought him over to dinner three years ago. 
There was no way you could sleep in the same bed without Toji. He etched himself deep inside you to the point that there were no takebacks, not that you’d want that anyway. You looked around your new barren living room trying to focus your thoughts on something positive like how should you decorate? 
“Will you be okay here by yourself? You weren’t any better off with him, but you know you’re welcome to come back home any time.” Your dad spoke in a soft tone but uttered him with such disgust you could almost taste it in the back of your throat. 
You looked over at him with a soft reassuring smile. “Yes Dad, don’t worry and I know but being twenty-seven and having to move back in with your parents is a little embarrassing thanks for the offer though.”
He stayed and helped as long as you allowed before pushing him out of the door telling him that you’ll lock the doors and windows. Two hours later you found yourself alone laying on your bare mattress on your phone scrolling through it, too tired from earlier to move. 
Your thumb stopped on a post that should’ve been deleted a long time ago on the account you shared with him, a video of you and Toji in bed naked and sweaty in the prone bone position, the audio was on and you could hear his hips slapping your ass with each harsh thrust. 
Instantly you reported the video and debated on texting him feeling an ache grow between your legs, anger bubbling like roiling water in your lower belly as you jabbed at the screen with a finger feeling your head throb with a headache that loomed like a heavy shadow pressing down. 
“Hello sweetheart,” his voice came over the other side in a purr when he answered, the video playing in your head while you chewed on your bottom lip as Toji waited for you to respond while he lounged on the couch, his hand stuck down his pants resting against his boxers listening to your rapid breathing, he cleared his throat and getting your attention.
You sighed and sat up putting him on speakerphone to begin making your bed in order to release some sort of tension. “You need to delete that video of us right now, I reported it immediately! We agreed on everything else going on the account but that one! Why now?”
He listened to you talk while spreading his legs wider wishing you were here instead. “I didn’t mean to upload it. Was scrollin’ through my gallery, the video popped up and I couldn’t resist not watching us. Did you watch it? You can’t tell me you don’t miss that.” Toji replied knowing he has you flustered and aroused thinking about him. 
Thankfully he couldn’t see you, your legs clenched together to relieve the throbbing that made your pussy weep like a maple tree; sticky and sweet oozing from between your pussylips creating a mess in your panties. “Stop! You’re a pervert, don’t do it again, we’re broken up.” You hissed and hung up with a huff. 
Your head rang like a bell causing a migraine to split at the base of your skull, you pushed past the pain and did everything in a haste trying your best not to think about him and his sinful traps to lure you back. It was a very messy breakup, to say the least. He was far too possessive and jealous and he didn't want to let you go so easily. 
Some part of you knew he was always going to be the one who you’d forever talk about no matter what even though he acted the way he did but it was a love story that ended early leaving you with no happy ending. 
After you trudged through your nightly routine you curled into the middle of the bed listening to your neighbor's thump around next door, the sound only made your head hurt worse until it felt like your skull was going to combust. 
Two hours later you managed to fall asleep in a light slumber, your blankets tangled up as you tossed and turned around on the mattress. It’s been two weeks since you’ve slept with Toji and it’s been rough after being with him for so long. 
Four years, two of them living together. Now you felt sad and empty trying to cauterize the gaping wound in your heart but knew it was for the best, too much arguing and not enough communication. There were a lot of physical aspects though to the relationship that weren’t so easily forgotten. 
Your dreams dipped in and out until you finally fully succumbed to a deep sleep, your brain played the memory of you and him earlier. From the beginning of the day of your first year anniversary all the way to the hotel room when night fell bringing out the predator of Toji who devoured you whole leaving nothing to spit out when he was done with you, that night he took your soul and melded it with his in a way that could never be undone. 
A moan slipped free from your lips as it progressed further until your body jerked you awake from a sudden boom on your bedroom wall shaking anything that was on it. You wanted to be mad but also thanked whoever it was that woke you up even though it was very early. 
Dreaming about your ex and having a wet dream is not something you want to relive and hauled yourself out of bed to start the day even though it was well before anyone woke up but it gave you time to check things out on your laptop before starting the day. 
Immediately you pulled up your email while waiting for a new job to write back when you saw a forwarded message from Toji titled Someone else likes your pretty pussy. With furrowed eyebrows, you opened the email and read it feeling your jaw drop to your chest. 
Dear sweetbites21. 
We came across a slew of your videos and we have to say we are impressed with the way you look on camera, then it came to our attention that there was a separation. If you're interested we’d love to have you on set, give us a call soon. 
It was from the biggest porn website that had the best reputation and content, your eyes followed the words all the way down to Toji’s message with a snort. He was clearly jealous that they just wanted you and not him like some package deal. 
You copied and pasted the number down and saved it in your phone intent on calling them later. To pass the time you spent the better part of your day unpacking and cleaning your apartment until everything was done before you rested. 
Every part of your body ached and again you found yourself wishing Toji was here to massage your muscles then you remembered the email and quickly grabbed your phone to rid yourself of those thoughts. 
When you dialed the number you sat back on the couch and tucked your legs under you waiting for someone to answer feeling your palms sweat. “Hello. This is Yui with Sex Simplified. How may I direct your call?” A voice soft and sweet spoke on the other side when the phone clicked. 
“Hi, I just got an email last night about someone…” You broke off feeling a lump form in your throat thinking about Toji knowing he helped get you here, you gave her your name and information along with the username then listened to her type fast and quickly. 
You waited a few minutes and looked down at your cushion rubbing along the material with your thumb. “I’m going to transfer you to our manager, have a good day.” Yui then switched the lines making the phone ring again for a minute. 
“This is Aina.” It was clearly another female this time, she sounded older and warmer welcoming you. “Yes, hi, I just spoke to Yui. My ex sent me an email you sent to our couple account email.” You told her getting directly to the point. 
She hummed softly and turned her computer on typing in the background. “You’re part of sweetbites21, right?  I’ve watched a few videos and I really am impressed, you’re perfect for the camera with the way you work your body.” 
You couldn’t help but smile, feeling your face flush with warmth at the praise. “Thank you so much, that means a lot and I am yes, we got that name the night for the very first video we uploaded with food play and we left bites all over each other.” The last part wasn’t necessary but just in case you explained it anyway. 
Aina snorted a little and finished typing. “Your ex has a monster cock that would get views for sure, but we’re interested in only female leads right now so would you like to set up an interview with us?” She asked leaning back in her seat hoping you’d say yes knowing how much money you would be bringing in and she also knew that their star male case lead would love you. 
The way she said monster cock made you burn with a mixture of things, longing to feel him inside you and jealously because she’s seen it, but so have other people and for a long time he was yours and you knew he was madly in love with you and had no eyes for anyone else. 
“Sure! I’ve never done anything like this before though.” You replied hesitantly, this was different than just recording you and Toji, this was the big league and you’d be filmed with someone else, not your ex who knows your body inside and out. This would be a huge break for you, however. 
“That’s what they always say, and I know you haven’t, just homemade videos with Monster Cock. Next Thursday can you be here around eight pm? We’ll conduct an interview then if everything goes well then you’ll meet our male lead, everyone loves him and you will too.” 
You blinked at how sure Aina was sure of herself and found yourself nodding even though she couldn’t see it. “Uh, yeah I assume you’ll send me the location and stuff via email?” You asked feeling your stomach roll and your shoulders hike already even though it was a week away now. 
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Tuesday evening you found yourself in the aisle of the grocery store under lights that flickered, something that reminded you of a horror movie. Even though you knew it wouldn’t happen you still waited for the zombie apocalypse to start when you heard a throat clear from behind followed by a memorizing voice. “I just need to grab those mini cakes if you don’t mind.” 
You turned around and looked at the person - no, it was more like a God. Tall and lanky with snow-white hair that framed a very pretty face with eyes that looked like water from the bluest glaciers, so bright and vibrant which only ended up distracting you from actually moving out of the stranger's way. “S-sorry, I was just lost in thought.” You explained with a sheepish smile. 
The man hummed with a knowing smile as he reached out with one long slender arm grabbing two cakes of different flavors, the scent of clean laundry along with the faintest hint of vanilla wafted off him invading your nostrils. He smelled heavenly. Your eyes almost fluttered shut and your mouth began to water at the sight of him and how good he looked in his shirt that molded to him so perfectly and how soft his hair looked even under the lights. You wanted him. 
You wondered why you were acting like a dog in heat wanting to all but hump the man's leg knowing who he is or what his name is, you just know that he’s intimidating and you like that. It’s been a month since you’ve been single and felt the touch of a human is what you chalked up the rush of hormones to be, all you wanted was to be loved and caressed again. 
He definitely has the fingers and hands for it, lewd thoughts popped into your head of him fingering you in your car before folding you in half. “Do you want a picture or something?” The man teased as he watched you eye fuck him right in the middle of the store like a desperate stay-at-home wife who was bored and lonely at home wanting to be ravaged by someone. 
“Sorry.” You stammered and gripped your basket turning on your heel to walk away from him and the strange meeting, the feelings never dissipated even when you got out of the store after buying a few random items in haste before you ran into him again knowing you’d stare at him. 
The cool air made your skin break out in a wave of goosebumps as you walked to your car under the dark sky with a heavy sigh. Even with how beautiful it looked outside, the weight of everything has hollowed you out into nothing but a husk of your former self. The blue-eyed man was a loop that played in your head on the drive home followed by Toji who had a sixth sense. 
You looked down at your phone seeing his name and number glaring back at you when you pulled into the parking lot weighing your options on what to do, however, curiosity got the best of you. “Hello?” You answered and got out of your car grabbing your bags then made your way upstairs with quickened steps to the front door. 
“Heard you got the job working for SS, I’m not surprised. I told you we shoulda sent a video into them when we were together, you’re really going to let some other guy fuck you? I look forward to watching your new videos to see how you fake an orgasm for some cash.” He deadpanned clearly annoyed with the turn of events. 
Even though he couldn’t see you, you rolled your eyes and pushed the door open stepping inside to take your shoes off. “What I do is none of your concern anymore so don’t question what I’m doing. Is there anything else you need before I hang up?” You asked with an attitude. 
Toji chuckled making you shiver for a different reason now. “Have a good night princess, I’ll see you soon.” He declared giving you a warning before he hung up leaving you stunned as you stared down at your phone frustrated after the conversation. A hot bath was needed to douse this feeling that welled inside your core, a mix of burning rage and a need to be fucked hard. 
When you sank into the bubbly water you held your phone scrolling through the videos of you and him, your pussy throbbed desperate to get filled, with a lust-riddled brain full of nothing but wanting to get off you FaceTimed Toji angling the camera to face your soapy tits making sure your nipples were covered. 
His face popped up in the small box in the corner confused at first then you watched as his lips pulled back in a grin seeing you naked and wet making you want to lean in and kiss his scar. “That sure didn’t take long. Now look at ya calling me all desperate.” He crooned and followed your hands that moved away from your breasts hearing him grunt seeing your perky nipples. 
You should feel embarrassed and you are a little but not enough to stop you as he teased watching feeling his cock throb hot and heavy wanting to feel your soft skin under his hands, knowing how he’d give anything to be there right now. “Make me cum Toji…please, I want to so bad.” 
“Touch my pretty pussy for me since I can’t, spread yourself nice and open.” He commanded in a dark growl before cocking his head with a smirk. “Actually, why don’t you be a good girl and rinse off then get into bed so I can see you better?” You listened to him and ended in bed a minute later naked and mostly dried off, patches of water still stuck to the parts you didn’t get. 
When you got comfortable you spread your legs and angled your phone between them making sure he got a good view. “Aw look, she’s crying for me, I bet she just wants to be sucked and fucked. Poor thing, now swirl your finger around your clit.” Instantly you parted your pussylips and used your middle finger to rub the swollen bud with a soft whine arching for more. 
Your eyes fluttered shut and didn’t get to see Toji pulling his dick free spitting down on his open palm before wrapping his fingers around the base and jerking himself off to you thrusting two digits inside your soaked pussy and moaning his name so prettily and broken. “So wet ‘f me.” 
He watched you with low eyes. “I’m coming over, we’ll give our fans one more video. What do you say, princess? Want to sit on my cock?” His question pushed you over the edge thinking about him splitting you open around him, your cunt gushing around your fingers instead. 
You pulled your fingers out slowly when you came down a little huffing. “You are not coming over here. I can’t let that happen, this was a private moment between us, don’t ruin it. I can’t believe I’m doing this, but thank you for helping me out. Have a good night.” He chuckled before you hung up and shut your phone off for the night letting sleep take over and giving you a break from the stress even for a brief moment. 
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Thursday evening two hours before eight you stood in the shower scrubbing each inch of your body unsure what was going to happen, was it going to be an interview before having to show off your skills? Either way, you wanted to be prepared and brushed your teeth once you got out of the tub and dried off to get dressed. 
It was a dress that was suggestive but still modest. You’ve seen the casting couch videos before and picked out your outfit based on that, the company didn’t seem like that type though so you also kept it on the classy side. Once you checked everything over you got ready for the car outside. Aina said they’d send someone to come and pick you up at your apartment. 
True to their word a very sleek vehicle pulled up and an older gentleman got out to open the back door before he ushered you in then he got back in the driver's side and took off. The drive over to the studio was filled with the soft songs from the radio that kept you company until you arrived, just like when he picked you up he opened the door again, this time helping you out. 
Following the directions from the email you read again before getting picked up you walked inside the all-glass building, the windows so dark you couldn’t see the lights on inside which added fuel to the fire you felt growing inside. “Here we go.” You muttered and pushed the doors open to an all-modern waiting room, it was a subtle blend of yellows oranges, and reds. 
You didn’t feel as nervous anymore when you greeted the handsome male behind the desk in the middle of the room, he was warm like the room. “Hi, you want to take the elevator up to floor three. Room 204. Have a good evening.” With that, he handed you a key card and sent you on the way down the hall to the set of elevators. You stepped in the first one and went to the third floor. 
When you stepped into the hallway it was quiet as you read the door numbers feeling your stomach flip until you reached the correct one and knocked before using the key card to step inside, the same color scheme as downstairs, this time it was a small lounge with low lights and pulsing music, this time you were greeted by a very beautiful woman who wore a black leather corset and thigh-high boots, in her hand she held a whip with the same material as her outfit. 
“Hello, sorry you caught me during a shoot, but I’m ready if you are, and it’s finally nice to meet you.” She spoke as she faced you, her hair cascading like a waterfall. This was Aina? 
 “Yeah, you look….” You trailed off and felt your face flush as you sat on the couch she pointed to with a knowing grin, it threw you off guard a little to be her in her presence, her breasts all but spilled out of the tight top that pushed them together. “It’s nice to meet you too.” You ended up saying not sure what to say as she sat across from you crossing her legs with a laugh. 
She sat her whip next to her and leaned back. “So to start off with we do STD screenings on everyone, and at least ask if you can give us your past partners if applicable. I know you were with Monster Cock for a while if I remember correctly? We also have papers for you to fill out and sign if you want us to hire you.” Aina spoke, her cherry-red lips looked glossy. 
Anytime she says that you can’t help but feel a stirring between your legs. “I’m fine with that and yeah, I was with him for four years and it was only him.” You replied shifting your weight and looked at her with a soft smile and a nod. She mirrored your smile and grabbed the clipboard with a pen attached to the side of the table that separated you two and handed it over. 
You filled in the basic information at first then flipped the page reading the questions about your kinds, hard and soft limits. Aina watched until you were finished thirty minutes later, your wrist ached from writing for so long. “Good girl, you’re the perfect applicant and would fit in well with Gojo.” She said with a grin and put her hand in the air doing a come hither motion. 
A second later the door in the corner opened to reveal the man you stared at Tuesday, he looked different in this setting, a predatory smile showing off white pearly teeth. “Hi -” He stopped when he saw you, your eyes wide as sauces as you stared at him again with an open gaping mouth. “You two know each other already?” Aina asked interrupting the staring contest. 
“No, we just saw each other the other night for the first time…this is my new coworker?” You asked, your own voice sounded foreign. Talk about a small world, but you didn’t think it could actually be this small. Gojo sat down next to Aina confirming your answer, his long legs spread wide open and instantly you could envision yourself between them, his cock in your mouth. 
She smiled and nodded patting his knee. “Yes, and he is going to have to finish the interview, I have to finish something up. I’ll get a hold of you soon, thank you so much for coming out.” Aina told you with a wink before she disappeared through the door Gojo came out of leaving you two alone, the only sound in the room came from the clock in the corner with a plant and a painting. 
You shifted again in your seat and looked at him. “So how does this work? I filled the paperwork out and she said we’d be perfect together…” Your voice trailed off as you played with your fingers in your lap feeling naked as he stared at you intently, his head cocked to the side. Those blue eyes of his scanned your entire being from your feet to your eyes with a grin. “You’re hired.” 
“Okay, now what?” You asked again feeling your skin heat up as he leaned in, the smell of vanilla whirled around you like a cashmere sweater, after being with Toji you’d think you wouldn’t be so high-strung to be around someone so cocky and carefree but you were. His smile reminded you of someone who won the lottery. “We can get something to eat if you want?” 
You didn’t expect him to ask that. “I ate already, thanks though. Can I read up on what you like and stuff before I dip?” His white brows raised at the first part of your sentence before they dipped then furrowed at the end, he nodded anyway then stood up and walked to the door again leaving you alone for a moment to collect your thoughts. 
A few minutes later he emerged with a file stuffed with papers that he handed to you once he got close enough. “Aina will get a hold of you for everything else, and if you want you can stay and we can talk instead of reading each other's files, don’t you think in person is better?” He asked sitting back down on the couch manspreading while letting his long arms hang over the couch holding your gaze as you squeezed the papers tightly. 
His stare made you want to crawl out of your skin, it was heavy and he was intent on making you squirm a little. “I do yes, I assume I can get a ride back home then?” You countered getting a nod before setting his file back on the coffee table and leaning back to cross your legs. 
“What made you want to get into this type of work?” Gojo asked, his interest piqued. A fleeting memory of how it all started flashed behind your eyes when you closed them for a moment, it felt like so long ago when it did and now here you ended up; employed at a very secure job. 
You started to undo the straps of your high heels when he leaned in to do it for you instead, his long slender fingers hooked under the thin leather brushing against your skin adding to the raging fire that built between you two. He opened his mouth when your phone rang, piercing the sexual tension like a sharp knife, you jerked back at the sudden sound and snatched it. 
Toji’s contact information glowed against the darkened room. A taunting reminder that you couldn’t get any peace with him around, even though you two were broken up. “I’m so sorry, I need to answer or it will not stop ringing.” You told Gojo and picked your phone up to answer it. 
“Why not just shut your phone off? It’s not like you have to answer it, mhm?” He questioned pausing your movements to actually hit the green button. It was the truth, that’s all you had to do and ignore him, but why did you want to do the opposite and answer his every beck and call? 
You pressed the ignore button and shut your phone off setting it back on the table before you were in Gojo’s lap, each thigh on either side of his straddling him, your arms wrapped around his neck pressing yourself into him, your mouth found his in a deep kiss. He was the first one to part your lips massaging his tongue with yours, his hands traveled down to your ass slowly. 
With your dress bunched around your hips Aina stepped inside the room with Toji who looked irritated and a little smug knowing he ruined the moment between you two. “Oh my God! What are you doing here?” You huffed and scrambled off Gojo’s lap and glared at your ex-boyfriend. 
“Didn’t I say I’d see you, princess?” He asked with a smirk now as the other two bodies in the room migrated to the door again wanting to give you two alone time after an awkward moment, the room was tense and full of simmering anger as you and Toji looked at each other when the door clicked close. You grabbed your shoes and sat on the couch putting them on ignoring him until he was sitting next to you, his hands on your waist. 
Green eyes melted into yours, a silent conversation passing between you two as he fisted the soft fabric of your dress. You wanted to give in to the magnetic pull so bad, let him kiss you, and eventually fuck you on the couch until you’re a screaming mess. “Toji…you just ruined my interview.” You scolded him with a scoff as you pushed him back and pulled away. 
“I know, that was the whole point. I don’t know why you keep running when you know I’m going to catch you. Do you think I’m going to let you go so easily, princess, and let you do this? I love you.” He replied with a slight grin as he took hold of your wrist pulling out all the stops, his lips connected to the back of your hand with slow sensual kisses holding your gaze intensely. 
You swallowed the lump in your throat and looked away from him and jerked your hand away from his hold. It wasn’t a lie, he does love you, the problem was he loves you too much and it sounds crazy when you don’t want to be with someone like that but it was a pressure you couldn’t handle anymore, all the questions and the smothering was the final straw. 
Toji let his hand rest on the small of your back waiting for a response. “You need to go, I’m serious. I can’t believe you followed me here! This is getting ridiculous I hope you know that.” You muttered and turned your head to feel his fingers curl around your jaw in a gentle hold. 
“Say it one more time and I’ll really go, but don’t expect me to answer your next phone call when you want to cum so bad.” He answered darkly and let go then moved you off his lap and stood looking down at you with an unreadable expression gracing his handsome face, his eyes clouded with a profound sadness waiting again for you to tell him it was finally over even though it tore you apart as well to let him go. 
You curled into yourself and looked away from him still afraid to meet his look. “Go.” It was all that could be mustered feeling unshed tears sting your eyes. He stared at you for a moment longer then finally left leaving you totally alone until Aina came back in to comfort you and balm the waterworks you let loose sobbing against her shoulder with fat rivers streaming down your face. 
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A little after two weeks the whole embarrassing ordeal of your interview and makeout session was ruined by Toji you didn’t hear from him, no text or call giving you the reality of what it’s like not to have him in your life, something you didn’t quite like, the hole inside your chest only grew deeper and wider. It was a Friday night you stood in the kitchen and rubbed your face as you sighed and read the email from Aina. 
The meetup for the first shoot was tomorrow night, a cliche roleplay video between a masseur and his lonely housewife of a client wanting to feel the touch of a man so bad she’s willing to cheat on her husband for an orgasm. Having Gojo’s fingers like that on you wasn’t bad, and thankfully he’s been talking to you via texting and sometimes FaceTime calls during the last few weeks to see how you’ve been doing and to make you more comfortable around him. 
You felt like you and he were meant to be friends nothing more and having sex with Gojo seemed strange in a way, and you knew that you pushed Toji away but his failing to see what he was doing was wrong is something that couldn’t be ignored. It was pathetic almost how much you missed your ex-boyfriend, however, you couldn’t give in to the weakness and his charms. 
Twenty-four hours later you found yourself on the massage table naked with a towel covering you, the scene was practiced for at least two hours before any shooting began. It was time to actually do it. “This is the fourth time you’ve visited me, Miss. Aki. Did you pull something again?” Gojo asked when he stepped onto the set with a bottle of oil in his hands and a grin. 
He was supposed to be clueless and let you come onto him and take what you wanted. “I did yes in yoga class I think it was, it’s sore and I can’t spread my legs.” You replied with a fake pout looking at him, your eyes heavily rimmed with mascara and lips a clear glitter and glossy. Gojo came closer to the side of the table and rested one hand on your forearm with a reassuring look. 
It was hard not to really think about the many cameras facing you two as you smiled at him and ran your hand up his bare arm. “Thank you,” You told him sultry and watched as he poured a generous amount of the warmed coconut oil into his palms rubbing them together before beginning on your upper left thigh, his hands gliding against your slick flesh pushing the towel. 
Your heart lurched at being touched like this, in your lower belly you felt a pull the more Gojo continued and moved to your right leg, his hands coming incredibly close to your bare pussy that begged to be touched. He made small conversation, mentally reading the script in his head. “Do you charge extra for more?” You asked holding his wrist and guided it to between your legs. 
Gojo couldn’t help the surprise that took over his features just at how soaked you really were, the tips of his fingers collected your wetness and found your clit rubbing it slowly. He leaned down to leave a trail of open-mouthed kisses on your bare chest until he finally reached your nipple drawing the bud into his warm mouth, his hips languidly and mindlessly humping the table. 
You arched your back forcing more of your tit into his mouth when he slid two fingers inside your drenched pussy at the same time you curled your fingers into his hair pulling him closer, the feeling of him inside you hitting all the right spots made your head spin. “Don’t stop!” It wasn’t fake the way you begged and moaned for Satoru to keep going until you came around his fingers. 
He abided and kissed his way down to the valley between your breasts over the soft hills of your stomach until he reached your clit, his tongue swirled against it, and the sweet coconut exploded on his tastebuds from the oil that was used for your massage that Satoru continued with his free hand until your ass cheek was in his large open palm. “Toji!” You moaned rolling your hips. 
Everyone stopped and the director called cut. Satoru froze with a frown and pulled his fingers out leaving you to feel empty. “Oh - I am so sorry!” When your brain caught up with what you mumbled, you looked flustered and apologetic, it was a total slip of the tongue that was embarrassing and it ruined the entire mood for the video. 
The white-haired man turned away for a second before he sat on the edge knowing aftercare is important and drew circles on your hip. You were still high from your orgasm as you huffed angry at yourself for even thinking about him. “I really am sorry, I have no idea why I even said that - ” He interrupted you with a head shake as he pulled his hand away and looked at you. 
“Because you still love him, it’s clear you do to anyone who has seen you two together, and he feels the same about you. I think maybe you two should do a video, there is a lot more chemistry.” Satoru murmured and looked back at Aina who stood perched on the edge and came forward when he got up and she took his place with a sympathetic look on her face. 
She pulled you against her once the towel covered your body again. “What do you want to do?” It was a question you didn’t have an answer to. Would Toji come if she called him? It was true what he said, but couldn’t stomach the fact that he seemed to be the one for you and the same goes for you as well, it was an unmistakable love that couldn’t be denied no matter what. 
An hour later Aina had you dressed in something comfortable after a shower and curled up on the couch in the room you first met her in. “I got him to agree to come in, are you sure you’re ready to face him and do a video?” She asked again and plopped down next to you with a heavy sigh waiting for Toji to show up. 
“Maybe not a video, I don’t know yet but I do want to talk to him alone first then if it ends up like that then yes, however, I think it will.” You spoke the truth, makeup sex was like a prayer in your relationship that fixed whatever bump appeared in the relationship. She nodded and opened her mouth to speak when the door swung open and Toji walked in leaving the door open for Aina in a silent way to tell her to leave, his presence demanded attention, at least from you anyway. 
You sat up and looked at him before bidding your new friend and boss goodbye and watched as she left leaving you and him alone. “Thanks for coming, I didn’t think you would but I'm really glad you did.” You murmured first breaking the tense silence and watched as he crossed the room to sit next to you in two strides, reminding you of the last time you both saw each other. 
His smell was all-potent male; a warm blend of tobacco and whiskey that made your pussy clench and throb, you wanted to lean and nuzzle your face in his shirt. “I love you too, and when we were filming I moaned your name when I came, and he was only fingering me…we would have better luck doing this together, you’re the one for me, I don’t want anyone but you anyway.” You whispered looking at him feeling your stomach curl as he stayed silent for a few minutes. 
Toji hummed at your admittance and leaned in until his lips brushed against yours then you were yanked into his lap, his mouth was onto yours in a claim and possessive kiss. “I hate that another man touched you like that and made your cute cunt cry out, I think we need to rectify that, huh?” He asked and kissed your jaw and neck leaving love bites behind, a mark of him. 
“I don’t know why you kept running away when I’m always going to find you sweetheart, it was pointless. I missed you.” He almost growled as Toji nuzzled his face into your neck, his hands becoming greedy and exploring your body pulling your shirt up to knead his fingers into your hips before he pulled away to tug the fabric off and toss it to the floor leaving you topless. 
You climbed off his lap and went to the corner turning the camera on and making sure it was facing the couch and shed the rest of your clothes on the way leaving a trail of discarded fabric before you got back on his lap finding solace in his cradle from being away for so long. 
With no bra on he focused on your peaked nipples that ached to be sucked on and pinched, one large hand came up and cupped one breast. “It was absurd to think I could, mhm?” You shot back with a grin as you threaded your fingers through his soft raven hair kissing him again, your tongue swirled with his until a bridge of spit connected your lips when you pulled away from him. 
His lips curled into a smile letting his hands continue to grope and feel up your body until you sat naked in his lap. “Get naked too, don’t let me be the only one here.” You told him with a pout and tugged on his soft gray shirt that hugged his muscular body. He chuckled, reached behind him, and pulled it off in one fluid motion. “You do the rest for me, princess,” Toji said with a smirk. 
You were quick and got on your knees and tugged off his sweatpants and boxers until he was naked before sitting up more to wrap your fingers around the base of his cock, the flesh warm and silky as you jerked your hand up and down using the pre-cum as a lube before you leaned in and sucked on the swollen head with a groan looking up at him before taking more of him in your mouth. 
Toji rested one hand on your head and followed the movement as you bobbed up and down letting the spit that gathered in the back of your throat to cover his throbbing dick until you gagged around him, your pussy fluttered wanting attention which he knew. “Sit that pretty pussy on my face and you can continue to suck my cock, sound good princess?” He asked huskily. 
“Yes, I missed doing that so much, only you can make me feel this good.” You praised and watched as he settled on his back before he helped you get situated, your thighs straddling his face at this advantageous point he could see the clear sticky stringy slick bridged from your pussylips creating a mess that he wanted to clean up, his tongue sucked on your clit once you sat fully down on his face. 
His hands massaged your ass as you went back down on him, the fat mushroom tip of his cock hit the back of your throat while your hips rolled against his face chasing your own high, it was lewd; the wet sounds of you sucking his cock like you were slurping a thick milkshake and him he acted like this was the last time he was going to be able to get anything to eat ever again. 
You’ve never felt so wet between your legs like this as you gripped his thighs intent on making him cum, your hand came down to cup his sack rolling it in your hand gently while fucking his face with no shame feeling the ball of pleasure tighten in your lower belly as he made out with your pussy slowly with tender kisses and licks spreading you open while bucking his hips up. 
Toji moaned against your wet cunt growing closer to his orgasm when you sucked his head and let go of one of your ass cheeks to hold your head down excited to feel your throat tighten around him like this again, this time he’s the lust-riddled one filling the back of your mouth with his warm cum. He tapped your ass and pulled away. “Don’t swallow just yet, cum for me.” 
He sat you back down on his face, his tongue swirled against your clit again as you struggled to keep his load that mixed with spit and trickled from the corner of your mouth, a moan threatened to slip free but you kept down and creamed on his tongue with a grunt experiencing the best orgasm you’ve ever had, your body went limp making it easy for Toji to tuck you into his lap. 
His hand held your cheeks and squeezed them watching his thick cum oozed from your swollen and shiny lips. “Such a pretty sight, so cute, you still taste like a delicacy.” Toji pushed into your mouth with his thumb and watched as you sucked on it before pulling away to kiss him transferring his own release into his mouth, it was vulgar the way he swallowed it all no issue. 
When you pulled away completely it was easy to melt into his warm naked embrace before you attempted to sit on his knees and rub the length of his leaky cock between the lips of your sticky pussy, his finger followed along the smooth ridge of himself gathering your slick lubing his cock up letting the tip catch on your soft hole. “This will always be my pussy, ya know that? I can’t believe you thought that guy could make you feel this good, huh? Nod if you know what I’m saying. Don’t tell me you’re already tapped out.” He chuckled and pinched your cheeks. 
Toji nodded your head for you with a dark grin as he glided his cock in the seam of your cunt before he used his strength to manhandle you on your back spreading your legs obscenely wide which in turn parted your pretty pussylips coated with a beautiful shine of tangled slick. “‘S sexy, you’re fucking perfect for me.” He groaned and cupped your entire heat in his palm with a grin. 
He was sure the camera caught the angle of him having you spread out open on the couch, his arms keeping you pinned down knowing exactly what it was you craved the most; and he was the only one who could grant you the mercy of coming again until there you were laid spent. 
You looked up at him with a flushed face and glassy eyes, there was no way for you to go with his arm pressed against the back of your knees keeping you spread out open for him. “Nowhere to run, take my cock like you were meant to.” He muttered drunk on the need to feel you sucking him in even though there you murmured he was too big when Toji pushed past the soft muscle of your cunt slowly until he was bottomed out making sure you felt each ridge and vein of him. 
The both of you let out a collective gasp of pleasure as Toji moved his hips back and forth in a steady rhythm. His thrusts were slow and methodical showing you just how much he missed you, each roll of his hips brought you closer to the edge, with the way he positioned himself he considered himself one of the luckiest men ever to be able to see you take him so well. 
Toji pushed one of your legs further back pressing it against your ear almost as he planted one foot on the floor and slowed his pace savoring the feeling of how your pussy felt wrapped around him. He bent at the waist and leaned down to kiss you again, his tongue playing with yours in a passionate makeout session, his hot breath panting against your flushed skin. 
With him on top, it was impossible not to feel so full of him and at this angle, the tip of his cock hit the right spot with each thrust while his pelvis rubbed against your clit. “I love the way you look under me, so vulnerable and cute.” His lips left a trail of hot kisses down your neck and you felt your heart flutter. You moaned in pleasure as your body trembled in anticipation. 
His mouth found yours again in another sensual kiss feeling your orgasm erupt. Your cunt pulsated around him trying to milk him for everything he has. “Toji! Feels so good!” You moaned with a slack jaw, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he drug you up and down the length of his cock, his hand brushed away your hair in a caring and gentle manner. 
“I know princess, you’re milking me ‘s good, should fuck a baby into you, would ya like that?” He grunted giving you some reprieve when he tossed your leg over his shoulder letting it dangle as he fucked you through your high, the idea of your belly swollen and round with his baby made Toji feral, his cock throbbed deep inside you as he stopped his movements pinching your cheeks again with another chuckle. 
Your eyes fluttered open as you stared at him with lust-blown pupils. He nodded your head then shook it side to side. “Did you understand me?” He asked repeating himself anyway before you got the chance to respond. You nodded your head of your own volition wanting it as well, it was something that you’d thought about before and you both have discussed marriage too. 
He grunted deep in his throat grinding himself against you, his orgasm hit him hard as he emptied himself inside your wet soft pussy until it leaked out around him despite him keeping you plugged up. Toji turned his head and pressed feather-light kisses to your ankle. “I really missed my princess, come home with me?” He asked and looked down at you. 
Your heart shuddered in your chest as you reached out to link your fingers with his. “I will stay the night with you, but I think I’m going to stay at my apartment, show me how serious you are first then we’ll go from there.” You told him, and even though he would like if you did move back in he agreed and made a vow to change his ways if that meant you’d come back to him fully. 
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tokrev-roses · 3 years
Text
Cool Cool Boy
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although you are happy with your love, your ex-boyfriend wants to be a part of your life again. jealous boyfriends and phones involved + NSFW (original request)
🖋Genre: Smut (Mikey, Draken Chifuyu), Fluff (Baji)
⚠️Warnings: 18+ for everyone but Baji, description of the female body and sexual acts, bad writing/grammar/spelling
👥Characters: Mikey, Draken, Chifuyu, Baji
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❧ Keisuke Baji
Fancy dates are not his thing
It was not only that he had a budget, being a middle schooler and everything, he also simply didn’t vibe with it
But it was your anniversary, so he saved up all his pocket money and tried to behave so mama Baji would let him out
Cue to him waiting in front of a popular restaurant for young couples, wearing his edgy street clothes
And to both of your surprise, everything went smoothly
He excused himself to the restroom for a sec, and while you were waiting at your table, daydreaming about the beauty of this evening, someone sat down on Keisuke’s chair
You turned towards the person, fully expecting to see your boyfriend, but were met with a less than pleasant view. Your ex-boyfriend greeted you with a satisfied smirk.
“Enjoying yourself, y/n? You know, I always thought you were one of those girls who loved fancy stuff, considering how much you loved our dates and my presents. That you’d settle for someone who is unable to offer you more than this…” He made a derogatory gesture towards the other tables.
This was no high-end restaurant with view over the Tokyo skyline, but it was Baji who put a lot of effort into this, and it meant more to you than anything else
As you were about to respond, a shadow towered over your ex
“What do you think you are doing her punk?”
“This is the trash you left me for, y/n?”
As he was about to laugh, Baji seized him by the collar, lifted him up, and threw him away like actual trash
Knowing Keisuke, you tried to stop the enraged berserker he was about to turn into. No need for a brawl in the middle of a restaurant
You managed to calm him, nonetheless the manager kindly asked all three of you to leave
Keisuke kept quiet on your way home. You knew why. He actually wanted everything to be perfect, to show you how much you meant to him and it was ruined by his temper and a slimy asshole
„♪Kei-Su-Ke♪“, you poked the dimples of your grumpy boyfriend. “I loved this evening. Minus that idiot, but that was none of your fault.”
“Hm.”
He kept walking.
Ok, you’d have to bring the big guns in
With two big steps you were behind him to give him the strongest back hug possible
“Ya, you punk. Wanna pick a fight?”, your effort to imitate his voice didn’t go unnoticed.
“As if a small fry like you could win against me.”
With that you knew the ice was broken. What you didn’t expect was him turning around fast as lightening, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.
You tried to scream but it ended in heartful laughter
A perfect anniversary indeed.
❧ Manjiro Sano
(Future!Mikey, Dark-Haired)
King of jealousy and most possessive out of all the boys, so you can imagine his reaction as you told him your ex-boyfriend visited you at work
The mood instantly shifted
“Come on, Manjiro. He didn’t ask me to marry him or anything.”
This joke was not appreciated by him, and he stayed broody for the rest of the evening
You should have known that he was up to something as he suddenly became very touchy with you, but you pinned it on his neediness
Things got even stranger when he didn’t let you touch or pleasure him, but instead kept making you feel like wax between his fingers
It wasn’t just the way he abused your neck with longing kisses or how he caressed the sides of your body with featherlight touches as he made his way downwards. Not the way he fondled your breasts with the utmost care, kissing and sucking your nipples until you couldn’t keep your whimpers from spilling.
The satisfied smile he gave you as you made the first sound should have shown you that there was more to it, but you were so lost in pleasure, that you really didn’t care
Things got worse (or better) for you as he reached your most intimate spot
If he was skilled at pleasuring you before, he was a god at doing so today.
White pleasure blinded you as his velvet tongue explored every part of you. Every moan and whimper you gave him was met with a pleased hum that vibrated through your body.
When you couldn’t stop your own need from feeling every part of him on you, you used your hands in his dark hair to push him closer to you.
Instead of understanding your silent plea like he usually would, he just kept going and going until your vision got blurred by tears and your voice was hoarse.
Only then he let you go, mumbling something you were too tired to understand.
You slept well that night, with Mikey hugging you loke a koala
It was only when you looked at your phone the next morning, that you realized what he had done.
A chat with your ex-boyfriend, who must have written you last evening about going out for dinner, cough your eye. Your answer, which you definitely didn’t send, consisted of a 30 second audio.
Innocent you played it, of course, and it took you a second to realize what exactly you were hearing.
That was you. You, moaning in ecstasy. You were frozen in place an listened all the way through it
The audio ended with a raspy voice you knew all too well
“She is busy with me.”
❧ Ken Ryuguji
Your phone was broken.
It did not show you, who tried to call you and called people you never meant to call. That’s why instead of putting it in your pockets, it usually laid somewhere beside you. Like today as you were cooking dinner for your finance who was about to come home from his bike shop very soon
The last days had been a bit stressful, he had a lot to do, couldn’t spend any time with you and you went to meet your ex-boyfriend for coffee, as he himself was about to get married soon
Ken tried to be understanding, but the amount of your time this past fling consumed annoyed him
That’s why he wanted to make up for lost time this evening
He didn’t hesitate when he saw you standing in the kitchen, stirring something in a pan and looking so perfect
On swift move and the giant had placed you on the counter, standing between your spread legs, face buried in your neck
“Well, someone seems eager.”
He wasn’t willing to waste time with your teasing but begun to assault your lips
Heavy breathing filled the room as he cupped your chin with one hand and tried to get rid of your clothes with the other
Your bodies soon met with a pleasurable sensation, moving in synch.
You held on to him like your life depended on it, ankles hooked behind his back
He wasn’t one to moan, but his heavy breathing had something so unexplainable erotic to it, that it made up for the missing foreplay
One couldn’t be without the other and if it wouldn’t have been for the laws of nature, you would have said that your brains your hearts and your pleasure became one
Sweat made the counter slippery, and your voice became raspy as you finally reached your high together
“Well, hello there.” You could literally hear the smirk on his lips as he said this.
“…hello?”
You thought you were hallucination from your post-orgasmic bliss as you heard another voice talking to the both of you. But Ken’s shocked face as he looked towards your phone woke you up
It couldn’t be that your phone called your ex-boyfriend, right?
Right??  
❧ Chifuyu Matsuno
It’s not like Chifuyu needs your attention all the time, but he kinda needs it when he wants it you know?
And today he really needed it
He had given the shop into the hands of his partner, Kazutora, to spend some time with you, as a surprise
The thing with surprises was, that they usually came at the worst times
His mood went downwards as he came home and instead of giving him a confused hug, asking him why he was home already, you were on the phone with god knows whom
He thought you’d end the call soon, so he gave you some space, but as you kept laughing 30 minutes after he arrived, he got annoyed, to say the least.
He didn’t mean to listen in on your conversation, but your constant laughter, bickering and smiling made him…curious
It seemed like your former high school sweetheart had called to “remember the good old times”, and although it wasn’t like him at all, he slowly but surely felt anger bubbling inside of him.
You had settled for the couch, and although the other party was on the phone, he felt the need to touch you, so he laid down between your legs, head resting on your stomach
You, of course, noticed the sour mood hanging in the air (not just because he followed you around like a lost puppy while you were phoning this old friend of yours)
So you petted his hair, knowing it would calm him
But the time for appeasement was over, at least for Chifuyu. He knew that you knew that he wanted you to hang up, yet you didn’t
It started as an innocent kiss on your stomach, which you answered with a silent chuckle, shaking your hand to signal him to stop
That he ignored it would be an understatement
Something you realised as he started caressing your intimate part through your clothes
As your friend on the other side was continuing to tell you about his life, your attention was captured by the innocent puppy-dog eyes your boyfriend gave you as he got rid of the annoying layers keeping him from feeling you
He began giving you kitten licks, that literally took your breath away. Good for you, the other man didn’t notice
Chifuyu, that devil, knew what he was doing, keeping eye contact with you while doing the most sinful things to you
It got worse as he took your pearl between his soft lips and started sucking
You had to press your fist on your mouth to keep any sound from spilling
He continued his assault with a steady pace, and you wanted him to stop as much as you wanted him to continue
“Y/n, are you still there?”
You hadn’t noticed that the excited voice on the phone had stopped
Faster than you could react, Chifuyu had snatched your phone away from you.
His breath tickled your now wet parts as he answered
“Something came up just now, and she needs to come. Try again, pal.”
3K notes · View notes
mandos-sluts · 3 years
Text
The Botched Mission
The Mandolorian x Fem!Reader
Rating: Explicit
Wordcount: 3.3k
Warnings: Smut, rough sex, dubious consent, degradation, daddy kink, mutual masterbation, dirty talk, voyeurism
Summary: You work for the Empire and are tasked with spying on Mando. You don’t do a great job at concealing your efforts.
A/N: Please message us or comment if you want to be on our tag list!!
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You were born and raised in the Empire. Your mother was an admiral in the Imperial Security Bureau under Moff Gideon and your father died in battle during the Great Purge. The more you grew up, the more you questioned the Empire’s actions and ideology, but it didn’t really matter. There was no getting out for you— your entire livelihood was supported by the Empire.
Your commanding officer has given you a mission on Tatooine. You are to go undercover as a mechanic and surveill the Mandalorian Din Djarin. It was known that he knew of the force-sensitive child’s location and had dealings with other Jedi, thus, he was of great interest to the Empire.
***********************
The Mandalorian’s ship is scheduled to undergo maintenance for two days on Tatooine. You stand in the hangar and watch as the beat up Razor Crest lands. The ship’s hatch opens and there standing tall is the Mandalorian, covered from head to toe in shiny silver beskar. He walks confidently down the ramp and towards you.
You open your mouth to introduce yourself when he tosses a bag of credits to you. “I need the repairs completed by tomorrow afternoon.” He says in a deep voice, towering over you and gazing into your eyes.
Shit. You’re….you’re really attracted to him. The way he carries himself is so hot— his assertive demeanor, his voice. “Yeah, absolutely, no– no problem sir.” You stutter out. “Um, I’m y/n.”
Mando nods his head and then walks right past you, leaving you standing there with your panties damp.
He exits the hangar and all he can think about is you. Fuck, since when were mechanics so beautiful?
You shake your head and try to focus. Heading into the ship, you begin installing hidden cameras all over. An actual mechanic employed by the Empire meanwhile gets to work making repairs.
You consider waiting around for Mando to return for the evening, just so you can interact with him more, but once it gets dark, you head to the inn that you’re staying at. Mando arrives back to his ship a little after you return to your room.
Your boss made it clear that she wants you to watch him whenever he’s not sleeping. Which honestly is stupid, it’s not like he’s going to talk to himself and reveal important information? You lie back in your bed with the screen on your lap and watch the live feed of the cameras in the ship, already bored out of your mind. The camera’s are super high quality; the picture and audio are both crystal clear. A few minutes later, you see the hatch open and watch Mando enter the ship.
Mando notices the cameras almost instantly. To be fair, you always half-assed your missions; you really don’t care about advancing the Empire’s agenda or doing your job well. Mando lets out a long annoyed sigh. He knew you didn’t look like a mechanic!
His first thought is to take down all of the cameras, apprehend you, and turn you over to the New Republic. There are only a few lodges in town and it wouldn’t be hard for him to track you down. On the other hand...he figures he could have some fun with this.
Pretending he isn’t aware of the cameras, Mando puts his weapons away in his arsonal just like he does every night.
Shit, you think to yourself. His collection of weapons is massive, he could kill you with such little effort if he wanted to.
Mando heads up to the cockpit and slumps down in the pilot’s chair. He stretches his legs out and takes a deep breath. Bringing his hand down to his crotch, he starts rubbing himself over his pants.
Your eyes widen and you sit up in your bed. Is– is he doing what it looks like he’s doing? You feel arousal shoot to your pussy as you watch a tent form in Mando’s pants.
Mando knows you’re watching him, and he saw how nervous he made you earlier today, so he knows that you’re too curious and horny to turn it off. He unbuttons his pants and releases his long, thick cock. He takes his length in his hand and spreads his precum around up and down his shaft, letting out a moan.
Your panties are soaked at this point and your pussy is begging to be touched. You bring your hand down and start rubbing your clit over your shorts, your eyes are glued to the screen.
Mando starts pumping his cock up and down, faster and faster. You’ve never been so turned on in your entire life. You trail your hand into your pants and start circling your wet clit. You know this is super creepy of you, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
Mando’s breathing picks up as he fucks his hand even harder.
“Ah fuck.” He spits out.
Ugh his voice is so sexy–
“Fuck, y/n. Yeah, that’s a good girl.”
Your heart drops and your hand freezes. He just said your name...He’s jerking off thinking about you. Did you even tell him your name?
“That’s right, y/n, ride my cock, pretty girl.” He breathes out.
You’re shocked and your cunt starts throbbing. Mando has the biggest cock you have ever seen, like...holy shit. You can’t handle how horny you are right now. The fact that you can’t hop on his lap and start bouncing on his dick makes you want to cry. You start whimpering as you glide your fingers along your slick and watch Mando growl your name.
Mando grips the arm of his chair as he feels his orgasm approaching. He’s so hard knowing that you’re watching him.
“Ahhhhhh fuuuckkkkk, yyy/nnn” Mando moans as you watch his cum spew out of him.
Feeling your own orgasm coming on, you quickly turn off the monitor, close your eyes, and start pumping your finger in and out of your hole. It takes you less than twenty seconds to cum, thinking about Mando saying your name while jerking off.
You don’t bother to turn the monitor back on for the rest of the night. You go to sleep replaying those images of Mando in your head over and over again.
************************
The next morning, Mando leaves his ship for the day at dawn and you head over to the hangar a few hours later. The mechanic is finishing up the final repairs when you arrive.
In case Mando asks you about the repairs, the mechanic gives you an overview of everything she did. You listen intently....for about a minute, but then end up inadvertently tuning her out, thinking about what you witnessed last night.
“Got it?” She says, jolting you back to reality.
“Y-yes totally.” You lie.
The mechanic leaves and you grab a seat at a table in the hangar, waiting patiently for Mando to return.
A few hours later, Mando struts into the hangar. He strolls right past you up to the Crest. “The ship done?” He asks shortly, not even looking back at you.
“Yes, everything is in order sir, have a good flight.” You say nervously, turning around to exit.
“Wait.” He says, stopping you in your tracks. “I have a few questions before I depart.” Mando says as he opens the hatch.
“Um, s-sure.” You say, following him into the ship.
Mando starts up the Crest and does a lap around the first level, examining all the areas where work was presumably done. The ship is in great shape, but he knows that you didn’t do any of it.
“Are the front deflectors operating at full capacity?” Mando asks in his deep, modulated voice.
“Uh, y-yeah.” You respond. You’re standing against the wall trying your best to keep cool and act like you know what he’s talking about.
“Did you fix the leak in the carbonite system?” He asks.
“Y-yes.”
“How did you get the ion acceleration chamber running again?” He questions without looking up, continuing to walk around and inspect the ship.
“Uh, um–”
Mando turns his gaze to you. “Did you rewire the calcinator or instal a new thruster nozzle?
“Um I did it by rewiring the– the thunder novel...”
Mando begins walking toward you. “How is the repulsor grille functioning?”
“I– I um...I just, I– the ship–”
Mando is now standing directly in front of you, staring into your desperate intimidated eyes. “What’s the matter, little girl, don’t know the answer?” He says moving even closer to you.
“N-no I know–”
“Can you tell me about the work you did on the engines?” He interrupts. “Or why don’t you tell me about these cameras you installed first.” He says, reaching over you and yanking one of the cameras out of the wall above you.
Your heart drops. “I-I didn’t put those there.” You stutter out.
“Drop the act, y/n. I know you’re not a mechanic. I know you work for the Empire.”
Fuck, you are so busted–
“And I know you watched me last night. Sweetheart, it’s written all over your face.” He says lightly, grabbing your chin and pulling your head up so that you’re looking directly into his visor.
Your heart is beating out of your chest and you can feel your face is bright red. You’re trembling with fear but you are also so turned on. Your pussy is throbbing as your breath heavily and stare into Mando’s visor with doe eyes.
“I—”
“Tell me, pretty girl.” He interrupts you again. “Did you like watching me jerk off?” He asks in a deep tone as he runs his other hand down your body to your waist.
“Y-yes.” You whisper with humiliation.
Mando brings his hand between your legs and dances his fingers on your crotch. “Did you touch yourself while you watched me?”
You nod your head slowly.
“What a fuckin naughty girl.” He says pushing you hard against the wall. He pushes your shorts to the side and slides his fingers into your panties. You let out a high-pitched exhale, still maintaining eye contact with him
“Damn. So wet already.” He says in a low rough voice. “You’re a desperate little thing, aren’t you? Those Storm Trooper boys can’t fuck you good, can they?” He says mockingly. “Maybe I should turn you over to the New Republic.” He utters as his other hand lightly grabs your throat. “Or, maybe I should come up with my own form of punishment for you.” Mando says as he thrusts his middle finger up inside of you.
You let out a gasp and your mouth falls open as he starts pumping your hole. “I’ve never fucked a slut from the Empire before.” He says, tightening his grip on your throat. You’re so wet you can hear his finger moving in and out of you.
“What do you think, you little criminal?” He says in a sultry tone.
“Ahhh!” You moan out. “I– I think you should– ahh– punish me, Mando.” You whine, batting your eyes at him as he drives his finger in and out of your cunt.
Mando grinds his bulge against your stomach. “Yeah? Then you’d better be an obedient little whore for me.”
Mando pulls his fingers out of you. He abruptly shoves down your shorts and rips off your top. “What are you–”
“Shut up.” He snaps as he turns you around and shoves you back against the wall. “Hands against the wall.” You do as you’re told.
You hear your shirt rip again and all of the sudden your vision goes black as you feel Mando tying fabric around your eyes. You’re naked except for a thong and blind fold, with your cheek and palms flat against the metal wall. One by one, you hear pieces of Mando’s armor hitting the floor. *see gif* Then you feel his bulge grind against your ass and one hand wrapping around your throat while the other grabs your tit.
His lips come to your ear. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a fuckin week.” He breathes in your ear. “Your pretty little cunt is gonna be overflowing with my cum when I’m done with you.” He growls, roughly kneading your tit.
“Yes daddy” You moan in response.
Mando loves that you called him daddy. He grabs your hair and pulls it back and down, tilting your head back and making your back arch while your hands stay flat on the metal wall. With his hold still on your hair, you feel his warm lips plant onto yours, his facial hair rubbing against your skin. His lips move down your cheek to your neck, and he sucks on your smooth skin while pulling your hair back. Pulling away, he can already see the bruise of the hickey forming on your neck.
Mando pulls away from you and steps back, taking a moment to admire how vulnerable you look, blindfolded and panting against his wall. Then you feel his hand smack your ass check, and you let out a yelp. He does it twice more against the other cheek and you can’t help but cry out.
“Shut up, slut. I told you I was gonna punish you.” He says as he pulls your g-string up, making its fabric drag and pull against your clit. He spanks you again. Arousal shoots to your cunt, and it is dripping wet.
Mando spins you around again and slams your back against the wall. He once more grabs your hair and pulls your head back, exposing your neck so perfectly for him. Mando grabs your ass and pulls you up against him. “Open your mouth.” He commands in a stern voice, still pulling your hair down.
Your lips part wide and Mando bites your bottom lip before spitting in your mouth. “Swallow.” He orders. You close your mouth and swallow his sweet saliva down your throat.
Mando picks you up and you instinctively wrap your legs around him. He sets you down on a metal table and rips your thong off of you. Your legs are wide open, your pussy splayed out on the table for Mando to admire as he pulls his shirt over his head. He runs two fingers up and down slick and then shoves them in your mouth. “You gonna be a good girl and show me how needy this little cunt is?” He whispers in your ear while you suck his fingers.
He removes his fingers from your mouth. “Yes.” You breathe out.
“Yes, what?” Mando says slapping your outer thigh.
“I– I’m gonna be a good girl for you, daddy. And sh–show you how– how needy I am for your cock.” You stammer out.
Mando hums in response as he lines his tip up with your entrance. One of your hands is wrapped around his neck and the palm of your other hand is flat against his warm hard chest.
You feel his warm precum against your tender skin as he pushes the head of his dick into you. Your mouth falls open and you gasp. He does a few thrusts with half his length and it’s already more than you can handle.
“Fuck!” You spit out in a high pitched voice.
“Shit–” Mando snaps. “How are you so fuckin tight?” He says, seeming genuinely frustrated.
You’re being so stretched out you can’t form a response. You just sit there, wrapped around Mando, breathing heavily with your mouth agape, trying your best to adjust to his size.
“You’re squeezing the shit out of my cock. Ah you feel so fuckin good.” Mando groans in your ear as he pushes more of his member inside of you. He then abruptly snaps his hips and thrusts all the way inside of you.
You scream out “Fuck!” And dig your nails into his back.
Mando starts pumping in you slowly. “You’re doing so good, baby girl, taking my big cock in your tight pussy so well.”
He brings more of his length out and picks up the pace.“Ahhhhh Mando! Fuck!” You cry.
“What’d you call me?” He says, snapping his hips into you hard.
“Daddy!” You squeal. “Daddy! I–I’m sorry! Daddy fuck your cock is– is so big!” You wine between thrusts. He puts his lips on your mouth.
“I know, pretty girl” He whispers in your mouth. “You’re doing good.”
He starts thrusting faster and you lose control of the moans that escape your lips. You’re holding onto him for dear life as he pounds into you, his hands clutching your hips. Mando pushes you down so that you’re lying on the table and swings one of your legs up on his shoulder, providing him an even better angle, allowing him to drive his cock right into your G-spot.
“Ahhh daddy, yes! Fuck! Right there, please!” You scream.
Mando holds your leg against his chest with one arm and brings his other hand to grip your throat.
“Do– do the Imps know they have a filthy– ahh– filthy fuckin cockslut working for them?” He mocks. “What would they say if they knew you agreed to be your target’s dirty little fucktoy? Huh?”
All you can do in response is scream and moan. Mando removes his hand from your throat and drags it down your stomach. He starts circling your clit and you begin to see stars. Your whole body starts shaking and your cunt clenches down on Mando’s cock. “Fuck, I– I’m gonna cum!” You exclaim. Your pussy starts pulsing like never before as you feel your orgasm overtake you.
“Yes, ahhh fuck! This pussy was– was made for my cock, shit.” Mando says as he rides you through your orgasm. He loves watching you come apart on a table in his ship, blindfolded and helpless.
Mando can feel his own climax nearing and he clasps your hips tight. His fast thrusts lose rhythm and you can feel his cock getting stiff in your cunt. He pumps his cock a few more times and then you feel his warm cum surge inside of you. “Fuuuccckkk.” Mando grunts as his white juices fill your hole.
He pulls out of you and scoots you to sit further back on the table as he redresses. You can feel his cum trickling out of your pussy onto the cold metal table beneath you. You close your legs— without him pressed up against you and without your sight, you feel so exposed and awkward.
You hear the hiss of his helmet and then feel his hands pushing your legs back open again, displaying your abused and leaking cunt. Mando unties the makeshift blind fold, and you see him standing fully clothed and armored in front of you. He wraps one hand around your waist and pushes your thigh further apart with his other hand.
“You look so pretty like this.” He says in his deep, modulated voice. “Come on.” He says with his hand still around your waist, motioning you off the table. You hop off and your legs immediately give out, your body falling to the floor.
Mando scoffs and pulls you up. “I told you you wouldn’t be able to walk.”
“You’re a man of your word.” You say sarcastically.
“Guess that means I’ll have to uninstall all the fuckin cameras you hid all over my ship.” Mando says as he sweeps you off your feet. He carries you into his sleeping quarters.
“No. Keep them.” You say with a side smile as he lays you down on the bed. “I like watching you jerk off. Especially when you jerk off while moaning my name.” You pull the blankets to cover you.
Mando sits on the bed that you’re lying on “Fuck.” He says caressing your cheek. “If you didn’t work for the Empire I’d take you with me.” Mando says bluntly.
“Take me with you, Mando!” You say sitting up. “I don’t wanna work for the Empire. Fuck the Empire. I’ve been looking for a way for so long.”
Mando smiles underneath his helmet. “Well, good thing you did such a shit job at your mission.”
**************************************
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thetaoofzoe · 4 years
Text
FIC: The Mercy In You 1/1
Pairing: Demon Priest! Henry Cavill x YOU
Summary: You liked Sunday Sermons in the courtyard of the church the most. 
Rating: Explicit, some religious/satanic imagery, oral sex (male receiving), rapacious absolution and yes, it’s the smutty smut you expect ;)
Notes: I don’t remember who said it, but this came out of the conversation regarding Sherlock!Henry’s high white collar :)
Bonus points if you know the song from which I took the title.
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(sherlock pic from andyicons)
Want to read more? Click for my Masterlist
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It was an extremely pleasant mid-Autumn morning and you enjoyed the warmth of the sun on your shoulders as you sat on the soft, neatly cut grass in the small courtyard between the church’s main building and the second smaller building which had been repurposed for administrative offices.
A thick luscious green hedge enclosed one side of the courtyard, and on the other side stood a tall iron lattice fence woven with thick ropy green vines from which sprouted sweet smelling red and purple flowers. 
As you sat there, basking in the sun, you watched as two men, dressed all in black, ferried a small table and two matching chairs from the administrative building and into the courtyard where they set them up near to the tall hedge. Another man brought out a white dish, a vase of flowers and a silver goblet which he arranged carefully on the table. 
One of the men looked your way and you gave him a friendly wave. He nodded and you went back to checking your audio equipment. 
It was just another daily sermon session that the church liked to provide for parishioners who could not, or did not want to attend in person, but still wanted to receive the good word. You and your crew had been working with the church for months now, helping them to set up and livestream the daily sermons, and then edit and post the videos to the church’s website for future viewing.
You attended most of the filming sessions and found that each presenter brought a different flavour to their sermons, which you liked. And, while you weren’t particularly religious you found yourself liking the Sunday Sermons the best, for was a nice positive way to start the week. 
‘Well,’ said the cameraman, glancing at his wristwatch. ‘We’re just waiting for the priest. We’ve got about a half hour before we start the stream.’
With a soft groan born of stiff cramped muscles from sitting cross-legged too long, you pressed up from the ground and stretched.
‘I’ll go and have a look around for him. I also want some water, so… two birds, one stone.’
The cameraman shrugged and you turned away, scowling, rebuffed that you didn’t even get a chuckle from your off-handed joke.
You walked across the grass to one of the open doors that you knew led to the corridor that ran directly passed the ladies loo and into the kitchen. Stepping  into the cool dim interior, something odd grabbed your attention. 
You paused and listened carefully, but there was only muted silence. You closed your eyes and a sudden wave of strange arousal washed over you. You sucked in a sharp breath, surprised by the response of your body to that unseen force.
Then as quickly as the fervour had seized you, it was gone. You opened your eyes and casting about an apprehensive glance, you let out a shaky breath. You were alone in the corridor. Or at least as alone as you could tell. You made moves to continue to the kitchen when your bladder reminded you that there was another pressing matter at hand.
You eyed the heavy wood loo door and said aloud, ‘Ok, three birds.’
There were no towels, so you were still shaking your hands dry when you left the toilets,  and walked down the hall to where the offices were located. If the priest giving the sermon was anywhere, it was probably in there.
As you approached the offices, you could hear a soft chanting. The sound of it seemed to be coming from everywhere and you stopped, feeling a little disorientated. There was that rush of arousal again and you could feel the wetness beginning to seep into the crotch of your knickers.
The chanting waned a bit and keeping your focus on the door marked ‘Office’ you forced yourself to keep moving. You then realised that the chanting was coming from behind the office door. Male voices rose and fell rhythmically and you wondered if they were getting ready for the morning. Although you were loathe to disturb the men, you lifted your hand to knock on the door as you had to fetch the priest who would be giving the sermon in less than half an hour.
You knocked, and the chanting ceased. Putting on your pre-emptively chagrined face, you waited nervously for the door to swing open and possibly reveal a frazzled looking priest. However, you were still facing a closed door after a few minutes drifted by.
You knocked again.
Silence.
You felt uneasy and slipped your hand down the smoothly worn wood to rest on the door knob. You didn’t want to just barge in, so you waited and lifted your hand to knock again.
‘Are you looking for someone?’
The quiet voice behind you made you jump. You spun round, and pressed back against the office door.
‘Oh!’ you cried, pressing a hand to your breast and cringing at how dramatic you sounded. ‘You gave me a such a fright! I didn’t hear you.’
You recognised the tall man standing behind you and he looked perfectly pleasant with his bright blue eyes, brown curls and stiff high white collar. 
‘I’m sorry,’ he said slowly, but looked anything but. ‘That wasn’t my intention.’
You let out a relieved, breathy laugh and mentally groped for his surname.
‘It’s Father ahh…’
‘It’s just Henry, please. There’s no need for formalities.’
You tasted his name on your tongue, licking it into the roof of your mouth, savouring it as you formed the syllables of his name and dumbly repeated it back to him, much to his visual delight.
It was an effort to break his gaze and you silently congratulated yourself when you managed to do it.
‘I’m ah…’ you jerked a thumb over your shoulder at the door behind you. ‘I’m looking for the priest who is doing the morning sermon. I... hahaha... I got distracted by the chanting.’
His eyes slid over to the door and then back to you and you felt thoroughly probed by his intense gaze. Your nipples tightened reflexively and you were embarrassed by the sweet lasciviousness that rose unbidden in your thoughts.
‘I don’t think anyone’s in there,’ he said, sounding incredulous about your claim of hearing chanting.
You opened your mouth to defend your own lucidity, but the words dried up when he reached for you. A pulse of excitement echoed in your core and you tensed, ready for the heat of his hand on you.
But it didn’t come.
Instead, he merely nudged you aside and closing his hand round the wood doorknob, he turned it. You barely had time to step away before he swung the door open, revealing a small cluttered room with one dusty window and four wood desks crammed close together in the centre. Trying to keep a respectable distance between the two of you and failing miserably, you curved around the door frame and sheepishly peeked in.
The room was empty and the free standing water dispenser gurgled mockingly from its place in the corner.
With his hand still on the knob, and his body trapping you in the corner between the door and the wall, Henry looked at you.
He was so close.
‘Maybe that’s what you heard?’ he asked, indicating the dispenser with a jerk of his chin.
‘I heard voices,’ you mumbled, looking back at him. 
Noticing the thin strands of grey mingling with the curls at his temple, you caught yourself before you leaned in and sniffed him like a bitch in heat.
There was that wave of dark arousal again, deep and thrumming and more intense this time and you could only imagine that the source of that tantalising sensation, was Henry.
He pulled the door closed again and it slapped unceremoniously against your bottom, startling a gasp out of you.
‘Anything else?’ he asked, sounding pleased with himself.
There was something that he wanted, something that he expected from you and you couldn’t bring yourself to admit that whatever this thing was, you wanted to give it to him. 
‘Forgive me, Father,’ you gasped, words escaping your wicked mouth before you even attempted to squash them.
His eyebrows rose with interest, silently asking about what you let hang unsaid in the air, and his plush lips lengthened into a knowing smile. There was an eagerness to his manner now, excitement and expectation in his fathomless blue eyes.
Was there a need to respond?
Obviously not, for Henry turned round without another word and beckoning you with two fingers, he led you from the administrative building to the main church and to the row of confessional booths lining the back wall.
When he pulled open the door to one of the booths, you belatedly thought that if this was the Father who was giving the sermon, this might make him late.
You had to say something.
‘I– I ah…’ you started and he paused mid-step into the booth, but didn’t look at you.
And in between slow, deep breaths, you heard him say, ‘Come, child.’
Or at least, you thought he spoke.
The whisper of his deep voice swirled around like smoke, coming from everywhere, coming from you and you weren’t sure which of you had spoken. You felt dizzy and unfettered and Henry was the only anchor that your mind could hold on to.
He then stepped fully into the booth and was sitting on the bench seat when you too stepped inside and closed the half-latticed door behind you. There was a low padded stool between his feet and instinctively you dropped to your knees before him. On the wall above his head hung the upside down cross outlined in thin red neon tubing and he was vaguely illuminated in the crimson tinged darkness.
You were sure that he was saying something and this close to him, you could feel his voice rumbling through you more than you could hear, or make out the words. You put your hands together in prayer in front of your face, then pressed your lips to the backs of your upraised thumbs.
Henry murmured soft encouraging praise when you reached forward and pushed aside the front panels of his black cassock. The material was softer than you expected and smiling a little, you stroked your palms up his surprisingly muscular thighs to where his trousers were fastened with a simple button and zip fly.
Henry trailed delicate fingers along your hair line and you could smell the scent of sugary vanilla and warm heather. You closed your eyes, inhaling the pleasant scent of his skin, and let your hands work blindly to guide his rock hard cock from his trousers. He was thick and heavy in your hands, nearly monstrous and your mouth watered at the sight of him. 
You looked up at the sound of a soft exhalation of breath and what you saw made your own breath catch. He seemed to glow, the caramel highlights in his chocolate brown hair catching the blood red light, that same light causing the wetness between his slightly open lips to glisten. Sharp, jagged upper fangs curved down against his lower lip and the evidence of his true nature pulsed molten heat through you. This is what he was, this beast, you thought ecstatic to be privy to this sinful delight.
It was nothing at all to slide his glorious cock into your eager mouth and even further when he pressed your head down.
The scent of him surrounded you and the taste of him was incredible. Flattening your tongue, you drew back and trailed saliva wet strokes up and down the underside of his rigid flesh and Henry groaned deeply, voluptuously in response. Greedily, you engulfed him again, suckling him desperately, unashamed by the muffled, hungry noises you made.
You dug your fingers into his thigh to gain some purchase as you encircled the base of his cock with the other. When you squeezed, he swore beneath his breath, pushing you on to do it again. You swirled your tongue round the swollen, leaking head, licking him, sucking him until his hips snapped up to force his slick cock down your throat.
He gripped the back of your neck, and growled, ‘Accept your absolution.’
You held your breath and went still, relishing the fiery pulse of cum filling your mouth. Your face went hot and with salty tears stinging your eyes, you accepted it rapaciously.
Mouth brimming with thick creamy fluid, you gazed up at him once more, and in the dim crimson light, he gave you a contented grin that again exposed his ivory coloured fangs.
 He then fisted your hair and dragged you up from your knees before forcing you to straddle him.
Leaning in you let his sticky cum dribble into his open, waiting mouth as he guided you down into a sloppy possessive kiss.
Your walkie talkie crackled and you could hear the staticky voice of the cameraman.
‘Have you located Father Henry?’ he asked, sounding annoyed. ‘He’s going to make us late!’
Henry continued to kiss you, sucking your tongue into his mouth, heedless of the call for the Sunday Sermon. His grip on your arse held you tight to him and it was a struggle to pull away.
‘They… they’re looking for you,’ you gasped, stating  the obvious.
‘And?’ he asked.
‘And, you ahh… promised?’
What else could you say to a demon priest who was scheduled to perform the Sunday morning sermon?
Henry righted himself, huffed a disappointed sigh and standing, dumped you off of his lap. You tried to take a step back, but stumbled over the low stool. He caught you up by the waist and tutted softly.
‘I shan’t dare damage you as I wish to have you for later.’
In his dark embrace, you found yourself swooning. He lifted you effortlessly with one hand and opening the booth door, he deposited you carefully on your feet out in the main hall’s interior. You stared helplessly up at him, your devotion to him burning like a live wire inside you. You felt that you could weep at the sight of him. 
He looked perfectly composed and just as pleasant as he did when you encountered him earlier in the day. You pressed the back of your hand to your mouth to silence your disappointed moan when he turned and strode to the courtyard where the filming crew waited.
Instead of following him, you went to sit in one of the back pews and looked up at the monstrous upside down cross that hung behind the pulpit -  a knowing specter that had been a witness to your rapturous gratification.
Your walkie crackled again.
‘Get out here! Who else is going to work the audio?’
With a sigh, you heaved yourself up from the pew and trudged out to the courtyard. You knew you wouldn’t survive the next hour.
-End. Please like reblog and follow, all that good stuff. Comment if you were moved :)
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the-modernmary · 3 years
Text
my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (ch. 5)
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Chapter summary: Aaron and the rest of the BAU finally make an arrest on their case, and you spend the weekend at Aaron’s.
Warnings: SMUT, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms
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I had a few, got drunk on you, and now I’m wasted
And when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you tasted
- Harry Styles, “Medicine”
 ~~~~~~~
The investigation was slow going, and every day when you got off the metro to get to your internship, you would see the undercover van that you knew had BAU members cramped inside, sitting and waiting for somebody, anybody , to slip up and say something incriminating. 
  It was weird being at work knowing that it was bugged, but it did wonders for your productivity. Whenever Chris or another one of your friends at the office started to ask you about your personal life, you were able to deflect it with a quick “Sorry, I’m in the zone right now, and I’ve really got to focus!” Usually, you had no problem sharing, but you really didn’t want the FBI to have audio evidence of your retelling of you double fisting vodka Sprites the night before until you passed out in your bathtub. 
  You also hadn’t seen Aaron since that first night together, which was almost a week ago now. The two of you had been texting back and forth pretty consistently, but you quickly found that there was a variable that wasn’t there two years ago - Jack.
You should have realized that, of course , Jack would be living with Aaron now, but it never crossed your mind. Jack used to live with Haley, and Aaron rarely brought him up to you. Now that Jack lived with Aaron, it made things a little more complicated. It also meant that you couldn’t just show up at Aaron’s doorstep whenever you were feeling lonely, or vice versa. After a long and awkward phone call, Aaron and you had both agreed that it was best that Jack just didn’t meet you, just in case he got attached.
  “For now, at least,” Aaron had added at the end, and holy shit, you did not have the time to unpack whatever the fuck that meant.
  Especially not with Chris throwing a crumpled piece of paper at you like the two of you were in middle school and passing notes.
  You held up the ball of paper with a raised eyebrow. “Seriously? You have the desk across from me, you could have just said my name.”
  “What are you doing tonight?” he asked you, pointedly ignoring your question. “Nina just got the Catan expansion pack and she wants us all to come over.”
  You pursed your lips as you thought about the offer. You did love game nights with your friends, but it was Friday night and you were still holding out on the possibility of Aaron maybe being free and inviting you over. It was almost pitiful how touch starved you were after just a few days of not being with Aaron.
  “I’m not sure whether or not I’m busy tonight,” you admitted, maybe speaking a little too loudly in the direction of the listening devices, just in case Aaron was listening in. 
  Chris gave you a knowing smirk. “Oh, are you waiting to hear from your secret lover?”
  “Okay, don’t use the word ‘lover’ again,” you groaned. “And what makes you think that it was anything more than a one night stand?”
  “Because when you’re not actively texting, you’ve been checking your phone every 20 minutes.”
  Your face turned red as you sunk into your seat, trying and failing to hide yourself. Maybe if you willed it hard enough, the ground would open up and swallow you whole, just to save you from the embarrassment. You hadn’t realized you were checking your phone so often, but you also didn’t doubt it. 
  “Fine,” you grumbled, deciding that coming clean to your friends was going to be much easier than having to deal with them bringing it up at every moment possible. Besides, you didn’t have to give them all the details. “I will tell everybody all about him, but later . Not now.”
  Chris smirked as he leaned back in his chair, obviously proud of himself. You turned back to your work, mindlessly doing edits as you came up with a cover story in your head.
  Ran into an old friend, you could say. We got drinks, and then one thing led to another. That could work, except you came to the realization that you didn’t have any photos of Aaron, which would be suspicious if he was an old friend. You would have to look him up, which you were sure would just lead to a slew of FBI ID photos and news articles, which would mean that they’d just do some major googling of their own. You had avoided looking up Aaron, maybe in fear of what fucked up cases he had been involved in, but your friends would not hesitate.
  You could come up with something so ridiculous that they would just laugh about it. Yeah, I got a sugar daddy and he made me sign a nondisclosure agreement, sorry! You giggled to yourself just thinking about it. Aaron would probably be mortified at the thought. Although, he did wear a Rolex, so you guessed that anything was possible.
  “Holy shit, Y/N,” Chris mumbled, and you just gave a lazy hum as a reply, not really paying attention. “The FBI is here.”
  Your head snapped up at that . You whipped your head around so that you could face the entrance, and sure enough, the entire BAU team was walking in like they owned the place, with Aaron in the lead. They all had their FBI vests on, a sight which was way more attractive than it should have been. JJ and Reid stayed at the entrance to make sure nobody got out.
  “Everybody, please stay calm,” JJ called out, putting her hands up non threateningly. “Everything is okay, but we need you all to stay sitting exactly where you are.”
  A commotion came from the conference room and against your better judgment, you turned your head to watch what was going on. It wasn’t just one person getting arrested, it was every partner. You watched as Aaron spun Julian DuPont around by the wrist and pushed his face down on the conference table and oh, the FBI vest was nothing compared to watching Aaron arrest somebody.
  If anybody asked you if you got turned on during an FBI raid, you would vehemently deny it, but watching Aaron take out his handcuffs made your mind flash back to all those times you were in that same position, cuffed and bent over, completely at Aaron’s mercy. 
  Just as quickly as they came in, the BAU made their arrests and made their way back out. As Aaron passed your desk, his eyes met yours for a brief second and the corner of his mouth quirked up smugly. It was so subtle and quick that even you barely caught it, but you knew that look.
  At least you weren’t the only one in this situation with your mind in the gutter.
  Once the rest of the BAU was out of the building, JJ and Reid started the process of getting everybody else out of the office so that CSI could come in and finish looking around. When you passed by them, both agents greeted you with a warm smile, like the three of you were old friends.
  “Y/N, we’re going to need to get your statement before you go home,” Reid told you as you walked by, and you just nodded in confirmation.
  Once you got outside, you were immediately greeted by some agent named Anderson. He needed to get your statement on the work you did with the team, and you quickly gave him the PG version of the story. Your mind, however, was more focused on finding Aaron, who you knew had to be somewhere in the crowd. God, how long did it take to write down a simple statement?
  “I’ll take it from here, Anderson. Thank you.” 
  Aaron’s voice sent shivers down your spine and you spun around to look at him. You brought your bottom lip in between your teeth. “Nice arrest, although I’m surprised. Mr. DuPont doesn’t even drive himself to work, I can’t imagine him waiting out to kill somebody.”
  “That’s because he hired hitmen,” Aaron explained. “The victims were all bribing judges to get their cases dismissed, and all of those dismissed cases looked really bad for his prosecuting record.”
  You shrugged, placing your hands on his hips. “Probably not as bad as prison, though.”
  That actually got a laugh out of Aaron, but he quickly composed himself as another agent walked past the two of you. “Yeah, he’s not going to be practicing law ever again.” 
  You opened your mouth to say something - maybe to invite him over? You weren’t totally sure - when one of the CSI’s came over to ask Aaron something.
  Aaron waved him off, telling him that he would be there in a moment, before turning back to you. “My house will be empty all weekend,” he whispered, looking around to make sure nobody was watching. “Pack a bag, come over.”
  Before you could even answer him, Aaron had already taken off. You made your way towards the metro so that you could run home before heading to Aaron’s. You had to fight the smile that was growing on your face when Aaron mentioned packing a bag. Not only was it an unspoken promise of a weekend full of sex, it also meant that he was planning on making room for you to keep some of your stuff at his house. The two of you were quickly falling back into your old routines, and it was weirdly comforting.
  When you got to your house, you made a split second decision to change out of your work clothes into a more casual outfit, although it didn’t matter much what you were wearing. It’s not like it was going to stay on for very long. As you packed your bag, you ordered an Uber, knowing it would get you to Aaron’s place faster than the metro. 
  Sure, you were a little impatient, but it had been so long since you had spent the night at Aaron’s place. It always intrigued you how different it was at his house than it was at yours. You were just staying in a shoebox apartment while you were in college - something liveable and temporary until after you graduated and got a job where you could put actual roots down. Your decor was fairly minimum, an assortment of knick-knacks and photos of your friends.
  Aaron’s place was different. It was a certifiable, adult house with framed art and random decorative bowls scattered around. All of his kitchenware was a part of a matching set and his living room looked like all the pieces were picked out by an interior designer. In a weird way, being at Aaron’s house gave you a glimpse of the life you could have in just a few years. Sometimes, it was easy to imagine that you were a part of his world.
  You couldn’t think like that, though. Especially not when he greeted you at his door with an eager kiss, pulling you in so that you were pressed against him.
  “I’m going to use this entire weekend,” Aaron mumbled against your lips in between kisses. His hands slid up your sides, pulling your shirt off almost immediately. “To thoroughly and completely ruin you, until you can only say my name.” 
  Your fingers tangled in his hair as you smiled into the kiss, your fingers already working on the buttons of his shirt. A soft moan escaped your lips, which only encouraged him to deepen the kiss.
  The two of you stumbled towards Aaron’s bedroom, only detaching your lips when absolutely necessary and leaving a trail of clothes behind you. You needed to be naked, to feel your bare skin pressed against his. His hands were impossibly everywhere all at once - running up your thighs, cupping your breasts, and gripping your hips so hard that it was bound to leave bruises. Your body burned everywhere he touched and soon all you could think about was him and how badly you wanted him to touch you where it mattered.
  Once you got to his bedroom, Aaron pressed you against the wall. You tried to grind against him, but he moved one of his hands onto your hips so that he could hold you in place. His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, sucking just enough to make your back arch. “You have no idea how often I thought of you this week. How hard it was to listen to you and not think about how you sound when you’re begging for me. How badly I needed you.”
  Your nail scratched down his back lightly, just enough to elicit a soft hiss from him. “Desperation is unbecoming on you, Aaron,” you teased, knowing that would get a reaction out of him.
  It worked. One of his hands stayed on your hip, pressing you firmly against the wall, while his other hand tangled itself in your hair, pulling your head back so that your face was lifted up towards him. He kept you at an arm's distance as his eyes raked your body up and down hungrily.
  “I’m desperate?” he said scornfully. “Coming from the girl who is so needy that she couldn’t stay away from her phone for more than a few minutes, just waiting for me to want you. I could have called you at any time, and you would have dropped everything just to let me use you, isn’t that right? You’d let me do anything to you, just like the filthy slut you are.”
  You visibility gulped at his statement but you nodded obediently, which earned you a sharp tug of your hair.
  “Yes, Aaron, fuck ,” you gasped out. “I would have let you do anything at any time, just please…”
  Aaron gave you a predatory grin as the hand on your hip slowly made its way up your stomach until it cupped your right breast, thumbing lightly over your nipple. It wasn’t enough to get any real pleasure, but it made you moan all the same.
   “You did such a good job this week,” he murmured, looking at you almost worshipfully like he wanted to commit you to memory.  “I was going to give you whatever you wanted tonight. But maybe that would make me too desperate .”
  You tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but it was no use. “I- I-” you stuttered out. You couldn’t think straight.
  “I- I-,” Aaron mocked. “I thought you were a lot more intelligent than that. Come on, Y/N, whatever you want. Use your words. Unless pleasure’s turned you into a stupid whore.” He punctuated the last word with a light spank to your clit, which made you cry out and your legs instinctively try to close.
  “I want you to use your mouth,” you begged, arching your back in a pitiful attempt to create some form of contact. Your shoulders pressed against the wall was the only thing keeping you upright.
  “Where?” he asked all too casually.
  Your breathing was still shaky at best, but you forced yourself to make eye contact with Aaron. He looked back at you expectantly, waiting patiently for your answer.
  You slowly raised your hand to point to your left breast, which so far had been woefully ignored. “Here,” you said hesitantly, not sure whether or not he was going to tease you. While Aaron always gave you what you asked for eventually, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make you beg for it first.
  To his credit, however, Aaron immediately bent down and attached his mouth to your nipple, his teeth gently scraping over the sensitive flesh. His eyes never left yours, he wanted to watch your reaction. 
  Feeling more confident, you cupped the sides of his face and pulled him off you, and the sound it made was obscene. “I want you to eat me out,” you whispered, blushing as you said it. “I want to feel myself cum on your face, please .”
  Aaron smirked as he slid down to his knees, kissing all the way down your stomach. “Good girl, you asked so nicely,” he mumbled against your skin and it sent shivers up your spine. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, giving him a perfect few of your pussy, slick with your arousal. “Look at you, dripping down your thighs before I’ve even started. Desperation is unbecoming on you, Y/N,” he mocked. He was using your words against you, and you didn’t even care. You just wanted him to do something, anything.
  Aaron ran a finger through your folds, ghosting over your clit. You hips bucked, desperate for more contact, but his finger was already gone. “Look at me,” he ordered, and as soon as you did, you were greeted with the image of Aaron admiring the wetness that was covering his finger. Then he stuck the finger in his mouth, smirking as he did, and you moaned out at the sight. “You taste so good, Y/N.”
  “Please, Aaron, I need you to- oh! ” you begged, but you were cut off by Aaron licking a strip up your center, still avoiding your clit.
  His hands came around and grabbed onto your ass as he got to work, lapping through your folds. You tangled your hands in his hair, rocking your hips against his mouth, craving more . His tongue teased at your clit, humming every once in a while in a way that sent vibrations throughout you. Without warning, he pushed two fingers into you curling them in just the right spot.
  As Aaron’s fingers pumped in and out of you, his lips focused solely on your clit. He flicked it once with his tongue before sucking, relishing in the way you moaned out his name. You tightened your grip in Aaron’s hair as your first orgasm hit you, your whole body shaking and a string of expletives leaving your mouth. But that didn’t stop Aaron.
  He added a third finger and replaced his mouth with his thumb on your clit. “You’re going to give me another one,” he practically growled. “And then I’m going to fuck you until you’re a whining mess. This is what you asked for isn’t it?”
  When you didn’t answer right away, he turned his head to the side and bit down on the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh, causing you to cry out. He sucked on that same spot for a little before dragging his tongue over the newly formed bruise.
  “Yes, I want that, Aaron,” you cried out. “I want you .”
  He reattached his lips to your folds with newfound vigor, making tight circles around your clit. His free hand snaked up your sides to your breast, pinching and twisting at your nipple. You continued to beg, although you weren’t sure what you were begging for exactly. All you knew was that you were so full of want , want for your second orgasm, and want for Aaron.
  Aaron fucked you with his fingers with ease, as if he had all the time in the world. You ground down on him again, chasing your orgasm the best you could. Your eyes were squeezed shut in pleasure, but you needed more. You opened your eyes, only to be met with Aaron’s blown pupils, eyes full of desire. You could almost feel his smirk as he wrapped his lips around your clit and pulled .
  The heel of your foot dug into his back as you cried out, your second orgasm twice as intense as your first one. Aaron’s fingers kept pumping into you lazily, and even your panting couldn’t cover the filthy sounds it was making. You could feel yourself dripping down your thighs.
  Aaron slowly removed his fingers from you and lightly swiped them over your clit once more as he stood up, which almost made you completely lose your balance, a sob tearing from your mouth.
  He held his glistening fingers in front of your mouth and you opened obediently, moaning as you tasted yourself on him. Your tongue swirled around his fingers, making sure to clean every trace of you off him.
  Aaron removed his fingers from your mouth. “Do you have one more in you?” he asked, and it was softer than you were used to. “It’s okay if you don’t. We have all weekend.”
  “I need your dick in me,” you said in lieu of an answer. “Please, please fuck me.”
  Aaron pulled you to his bed and you all but collapsed onto your back, your legs still shaking from your back to back orgasms. Aaron crawled on top of you, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake, all the way from your stomach to your mouth.
  “You’re so beautiful when you come for me,” he whispered, teasing your entrance with the head of his cock. All of his movements were gentle, bordering on caring. “Yelling out my name so that everybody can hear that you’re mine .”
  He pressed into you slowly, his first few thrusts shallow, and you could see that it was taking all of his willpower to keep teasing you like this. You dragged your nails down his back, not caring if it left marks on him.
  “Aaron,” you whimpered, bucking your hips to try and get more movement. “Please fuck me. I need more.”
  Aaron was always good at giving you what you wanted.
  His hips snapped into you harshly, and you had to attach your lips to his shoulder to keep from screaming out. Aaron thrusted into you hard and fast, wanting to feel every inch of you. He stretched you in all the best ways and your back arched off the bed. You were holding on to Aaron like a lifeline, and all he could do was grunt out your name over and over, repeating it like a prayer. 
  Your third orgasm came fast, spreading through your body like a wildfire, and you could feel the tears prick at the corners of your eyes at the overstimulation. Aaron’s thrusts became more desperate and harsher as he felt you squeeze around him. He dropped his head to your shoulder, his breathing ragged and you could tell that he was so close-
  “Cum for me… Fill me up,” you purred into Aaron’s ear, and that’s all it took for him to finish, holding himself deep inside you as his warmth filled you. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, both trying to catch your breath. You brought your head up to kiss Aaron, slowly and deliberately and filled with… something . You couldn’t figure out what it was yet.
  Aaron pulled out of you slowly and flopped onto the bed next to you, but he reached over and held your hand. The two of you laid like that for several moments, giving yourselves time to come back down to reality. Finally, Aaron rolled on his side to check on you. You admired the flush on his body, especially as it rose to his cheeks and made him look like he was practically glowing.
  “Are you okay?” he asked, his thumb rubbing lazy circles on your hand. “Can I do anything?” 
  You turned your head to smile at him, giving his hand a squeeze, before sitting up. Aaron was always so careful about aftercare, which you were immensely appreciative of. “Oh, I’m fine, I’m just going to go to the bathroom. A UTI might ruin the mood,” you joked.
  When you returned, Aaron was already in a pair of pajama pants and sitting in bed. He had also laid out one of his shirts for you, which caused your stomach to do flips. Despite the fact that you actually did pack pajamas, you chose to wear his shirt. You could feel his eyes watching your every movement as you made your way back into bed, leaning back against the headboard.
  Aaron placed an arm around your shoulders and you leaned into him, catching his lips in another kiss, this one soft and sensual. You placed your hand on his bare chest as the kiss deepened, and Aaron’s fingers ghosting over your skin sent shivers down your spine.
  “So,” you murmured against his lips. “What are your plans for me this weekend?” It was partially a joke, but you wanted to be as prepared as possible for just how sore you were going to be on Monday after an entire three days of being thoroughly wrecked by Aaron.
  Aaron’s lips curved up into a smile as he dropped a kiss on the top of your head, letting his lips linger for just a second too long. “Hm, we can play it by ear. Although, I was thinking Indian for dinner tomorrow night?”
  You were too old to get butterflies, but there was something so soft and so sincere in his reply that it made your stomach do flips. Aaron yawned, probably not even giving a second thought to his reply, and pulled you in closer to him. 
  “Yeah,” you conceded, closing your eyes. “Indian sounds good.” You could deal with the butterflies later.
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mrs-gucci · 3 years
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The Angel, Chapter One: Intel {Flip Zimmerman x biker!Reader}
Chapter One: “Intel”
series summary. The Angels are the newest biker gang in town, looking to dethrone the current high-riders, The Sharks, a notoriously violent gang. Fresh off the Klan case, Detective Flip Zimmerman and his new partner, Detective Ron Stallworth, are tasked with finding out more information about this new gang. After a passionate affair behind the bar with a mysterious woman calling herself Siren, Flip discovers that perhaps he’s a bit closer to this investigation than he originally counted on. Can he manage to use this newly-recruited ally to not only take down The Sharks before they strike again, but perhaps use it to benefit his lonesome personal life as well? Find out all this and more in “The Angel”!
chapter summary. Flip and Ron head over to Ace’s, a local bar in Colorado Springs to gather intel on The Angels, the newest biker gang in town. The young detective gets more than he bargained for when he meets and beds a mystery woman named Siren. Except ‘Siren’ ends up being the last person Flip expected to get intimate with and now, he’s entangled in this case, both professionally and personally.
table of contents. Intel (NSFW) * Saint Siren Turned  Sharks Intercepted Epilogue
(a * indicates where you are in the table of contents)
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author’s notes: hello, hello! saw a few bikers as I was driving on the highway, and my mind decided that I wanted to write a multi-chap fic about flip with a biker gang reader love interest. I love exploring the whole ‘flip with an independent/dom fem reader’ trope. so, here I am, designating an entire ten chapters to it.
**this multi-chap will have 5 parts total (4 ‘story’ chapters and an epilogue). due to the shorter number of chapters/parts, expect each to be longer, usually between 4-6k words.
word count: 6.1k 
warnings: smut. heavy flirting. swearing. a generous amount of dirty talk. degradation. oral sex. reader smokes. use of the term ‘pig’ to describe the police.
(possible) tw’s: tobacco use (as is canon for flip’s character). public sex.
my taglist peeps: @frank-and-honey @shygirl268​ (if you’d like to be added to my taglist, the link to the google form is HERE or on the top of my masterlist. I’m also willing to do a series-specific taglist if enough people are interested!)
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“Alright, everyone. Rumor has it that there’s a new biker gang in town, called ‘The Angels’.” Chief Bridges says. “We gotta be on top of this, make sure they’re not the violent type.”
Flip rubs his chin, stroking his beard as he listens to the limited intel the department has on this new group. 
“I’m putting Zimmerman and Stallworth on this one. You’re gonna hang out at some of the local watering holes, see if you can gather some more information on this new group.”
His eyebrows raise and he looks over at his partner. “C’mon Chief, don’t you think our talents could be used elsewhere? It’s just an intel mission, a beat cop could do it.”
“This is incredibly important, Zimmerman, and I only trust my top talent to do the job right.” Bridges crosses his arms, staring daggers at the dark-haired detective. “It’ll be a quick job, I’m sure. No more than a week’s time. Now, get over yourself and do the damn job.”
He huffs softly, nodding as he looks away. “Sure thing, Chief.”
“You’ll head to Ace’s tonight, since that’s where they’re said to hang the most. Meeting dismissed.”
Everyone piles out of the small conference room and back out into the bullpen. Flip lights a cigarette as he sits down at his desk and continues typing up a report from last week’s home invasion-robbery. 
Ron sets the ‘Angels’ file down on his desk a few minutes later, sighing as he sits on the edge.
“What are you thinkin’ about this case, Flip?”
“I just wanna get it over with, rookie.” He leans back in his chair, shrugging and taking a drag. “I think it’s nothing to worry about, since they haven’t done anything yet, but the Chief wants us to check it out so I guess we have to.”
Ron nods.
“Well, we’ll head over to Ace’s after work. Hopefully we’ll find something and then we can get back to finding the Sharks.”
The Sharks were the biggest gang in Colorado Springs, spreading violence and dominating the northern part of town. But, all of them wore masks or helmets with masks, so no one’s been able to identify any of them. 
“Mmhmm.”
Flip hums, stubbing the cigarette butt out in the mug on his desktop.
Before he knows it, the clock hand lands on 6, and everyone starts packing up. Flip gets up and puts his freshly-typed reports on the Chief’s desk before heading over to Ron’s desk. 
“You ready to go, rookie?” He asks, hopping up on his partner’s desk.  “I need a fuckin’ beer.”
Ron laughs, shaking his head as he stands up and both men walk back to get the mics and listening equipment together. Flip clips the lauve to his white undershirt, then re-buttons his signature buffalo plaid flannel. 
They head out and hop into Flip’s pickup truck. He pulls away from the station and heads down the freeway towards Ace’s while Ron sets up all the audio equipment in the front seat. 
The parking lot of Ace’s is almost full when the two detective’s pull in, and when Flip puts the truck in park, he immediately catches sight of a series of bikes parked at the front. 
“They’re here.” He says in a low voice, nodding over to the bikes.  “I’m gonna go check the jackets to make sure.”
Flip casually gets out from the cab and walks over. He sees one of the jackets draped over the seats with the words ‘The Angels’ and a logo on the back. 
“Yup,” He says to Ron through the window of his truck. “It’s them.”
Ron’s eyes widen slightly. “Well then, get in there, partner. See what you can find.”
He chuckles, sticking a cigarette between his teeth and flicking his lighter on as he walks into the bar. His eyes scan the room, looking for biker-like characters, but his attention is quickly drawn to a certain young woman sitting at the bar. 
She’s not much younger than himself, if Flip had to guess, and her subtle smile was infectious. Flip was absolutely taken with her, but he maintained his cool, approaching the bar. 
“Hey, Earl.” He says, leaning against the bar.  “Get me a Miller, would you?”
“Sure thing.” The bartender nods, giving Flip a handshake before heading over to the beer fridge. 
You can’t help but look over at the handsome man that’s leaning against the bar. His eyes move over to you, and yours dart away quickly. He smirks, and when you look back over, he gives you a quick wink.
Your cheeks warm as you and the handsome stranger make eyes at each other. You’ve only been in town for a little while, and you’ve certainly never seen someone like him around before. 
Once the bartender hands him the dark brown bottle, mister tall, dark and handsome casually makes his way over to where you’re seated. His presence is intimidating in itself, patrons suddenly hushing their voices as he stands behind you.
“Like what you see?” He asks in a low voice, smirking. You chuckle.
“Perhaps, although you don’t have much competition. The human eye is naturally drawn to the most appealing sight in the room and quite frankly, I’m so damn tired of looking at old white men. You were the reprieve.”
“Mmhmm.” Flip laughs, sitting down next to you at the bar, pulling out a cigarette and holding it between his teeth as he flicks his lighter on. “I’m impressed at your ability to spin such a convenient story for your obvious ogling.”
“Don’t act so innocent, prettyboy. Your eyes were not keeping to themselves either.”
You huff softly, taking a drink, the smoke from his latest drag clouding the space between you.
 “Perhaps.” He retorts, taking a sip of his beer before looking over at you. “What’s your name?”
“Oh, I bet you’d like to know.” You hum softly. “You can call me Siren.”
His eyebrows furrow.  “Siren, really? What, is that a nickname or something?”
“Something, yes.”
He’s intrigued by your mysterious and closed-off presence, your casual yet extremely confident demeanor. God, how he’d love to make you crumble on his cock, scream his name and beg him for release.
The thought has him stirring in his Levi’s.
“Phillip.” He says after a beat of silence, taking a drag off his cigarette. “In case you were wondering.”
Back in the truck, Ron shakes his head. “Did you really just use your own name, Zimmerman?”
Flip realizes his slight mistake, mentally kicking himself for not having an alias name already prepared.
Your finger swirls around the rim of the whisky glass. “I wasn’t.”
His eyebrows raise for a moment. He liked this game you’re playing with him, in fact, he loves it. 
Finally, a woman giving him the thrill of the chase, making him work for it.
“Are you new in town, Miss Siren? I think I would remember seeing someone like you around here before.”
You nod silently. “Got here a few weeks ago. I’ve got some business to take care of, y’know, tie up some loose ends and such. Then I’ll be out of here.”
“What’s the rush in getting out of here? You don’t like it?”
Your lips curl up into a small smirk. “If I didn’t know any better, it almost sounds like you’re sad to hear that I’ll be leavin’ soon, prettyboy.”
He huffs softly in amusement, although his liking of your nickname for him is much greater than he anticipated or would ever admit aloud.  “No, nothing like that. Just curious, is all.”
“I’m more of a city girl. All this fresh mountain air makes me sick.” You quip, smiling softly. “I like the polluted smell of New York much better.”
Flip laughs. “Oh, a city slicker. Yuck.”
Now it’s your turn to laugh. He’s kinda cool.
“What, Colorado Springs isn’t enough to convert you, or at least open your mind to the idea?”
He takes one final long drag before crushing the butt out in the ashtray on the bar.
Your eyes linger on his seated figure for a moment before turning your attention back directly in front of you.
“Well, now that I’ve met some more of the locals, I’m thinkin’ about it a little more.”
“Yeah?”
His voice lowers an octave as he leans in a bit closer, one of his large calloused hands now resting on your denim-covered thigh. You shiver slightly beneath his touch, the smell of cigarette smoke and freshly-chopped lumber intoxicating as it ensnares your senses.
“I think you’d like it out here, if you gave it a shot. We’ve got a few things New York can’t offer.”
You’re biting your lip as his husky voice rasps in your ear, his close proximity thickening the tension between you. You haven’t been this rattled by a man in a long time, and damn, it feels good.
“Oh really? And what is that, besides trees and grass, hm?”
His chuckle makes you squirm in your seat.
“Men. Real men. Not the city pussies that gel their hair up all fancy and can’t get a speck of dirt on themselves without throwin’ a damn fit. I mean...”
“Big,” He leans a bit closer.  “Strong,” Closer. “Men.”
His lips are practically on top of your ear now, hot breath tickling your eardrum. He smirks. “And that’s all you’ve ever really wanted, isn’t it, slick? A big strong man to take care of you, protect you...satisfy your every whim and desire.”
You can barely see straight, vision blinded by the sheer lust rolling off his tongue. He’s so damn cocky, a real alpha male type, and you were eating it up. You couldn’t wait to break him.
“I’ll have to see it to believe it, prettyboy.” You say, voice unwavering as you turn to look him directly in the eyes with a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lip.  “So why don’t you go ahead and prove it, hm? I’d like to see you try.”
His jaw clenches along with his fists, body turning lurching forward slightly to the edge of the chair, now fully facing your side. 
“You’re walking an awfully thin line with that trap of yours, slick. I’d watch yourself, ‘cause the folks out here won’t hesitate, like city folk do, to make an example outta brats like you.”
Your eyes don’t leave his as you lean forward a bit, challenging him right back. “Lotta big talk from you this evening, prettyboy, but no action has come to match these claims. All bark, no bite, just like everyone else in this town.”
Flip is hard as a fucking rock, erection urgently pressing against the seam of his Levi’s, but he can’t even focus on that right now. You work him up like no one else ever has before, and he’s not about to let you just leave with the last word. No, he’ll have the last word tonight if it fucking kills him.
“You wanna see some fuckin’ bite, slick?” He growls, standing up and grabbing hold of your jaw, keeping a firm grip on it. “Talk to me like that again and see what happens.”
You grin deviously, wrapping your hand around his wrist, holding it as you remove your jaw from his grip.
“Heard it all before and nobody’s gotten me just yet. You’re no different, prettyboy.”
A twenty is thrown on the tabletop and then you’re leaving.
His blood is boiling, cock twitching with excitement as he lets you walk out of the bar, letting you think you can get away with this. Then, as soon as you’re outside, he strides across the room, flings the door open, and grabs your arm.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
He walks you to the side alley and pins you to the bricks, body caging yours in. You’re breathless and defenseless against him as his wiry whiskers tickle the side of your neck. His legs spread out and his large hands grip your hips as he scoops down, grinding his arousal against your ass with one long, rough stroke.
The denim-trapped bulge presses incessantly against your backside when he stills and lights up a smoke behind you, taking a brief drag, exhaling through his nose.
“Y’know, I work hard all damn day, seven days a week, bust my fuckin’ ass to get shit done.” He stands up again, kicking your ankle so your legs spread open. You gasp softly at his brazen moves, which only fuels his arousal. “I come here to kick back a few beers and have a few cigarettes, relax, unwind…”
 His hands yank your jeans down your hips suddenly, then one curls around to cup your clothed mound, lifting up against you.
“But instead of that, now, I have to bring you out here and fuck some goddamn manners into your bratty cunt before I can go back in to finish my beer.”
You can barely formulate words at the moment, his every move dripping with pure power and unwavering dominance. You’re absolutely taken by him, but that doesn’t mean you won’t fulfill your own agenda. 
Let him think he’s the boss, that he’s got you wrapped around his finger. It’ll only wreck him harder in the end.
The small jingle of his belt buckle being undone brings you back to reality, as well as his fingers swiping over your clit through the material of your panties. He pulls away for a moment, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, yanking them down far enough so that he can pull his length out. 
Luckily, due to his massive body size and the fact that you’re in a dark alleyway behind a dumpster, nothing is too exposed in case someone happens to come by and see the little show about to unfold.
Your panties are torn down your legs quickly and his digits swipe through your warmth. He smirks when he feels how wet you are.
“Now I can call you slick for two reasons.” He chuckles darkly into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “I knew you liked this, dirty girl. Bet you’ve been wet all night since I came into the bar.”
His fingers trace over your clit, pressure on and off with his lazy circles, and within seconds he’s got you gyrating against him. Then, suddenly, he pulls away and steps back, hand on your shoulder. He flips you around quickly so that you’re facing him, then forces you back against the wall, flicking his abandoned cigarette away onto the black pavement.
“Why’d you turn me around?” You ask nonchalantly.
He smears some of your fresh arousal onto the tip of his cock, moving it around over his girthy length while his fingers force themselves into your mouth, grabbing and pressing on your tongue.
“I decided that I wanna ruin your disobedient little mouth first. On your knees, use my boots as padding if you need.”
Your legs close and you cross them at the ankle, leaning back against the brick wall freely, arms crossed over your chest. His eyebrows raise and he pulls his fingers out of your mouth.
“Did you not hear me or something?” Flip asks, voice low. “On your damn knees, slick, or I’ll put you there myself.”
Silence. You don’t move a muscle, watching the frustration fester. He leans in suddenly, face real close.
“I’m gonna give you one last chance to do as I say before I force you down.”
Nothing.
His hand wraps in your prettily-done hair, holding the roots just above scalp-level, yanking harshly. He steps back a bit quickly as you cry out, hand on your shoulder, pushing you down as the shock and pain weakens your knees. 
Your knees rest on his work boots and his impressive arousal is lip-level, now. He loosens his grip on your hair ever so slightly, still holding you firmly as he rubs his head over your cherry red lips.
“Don’t make me take this from you too, slick.” He warns.
You offer him a cheeky, close-mouthed smile, batting your eyelashes teasingly. He snarls, pulling your hair again, and when you yelp in pain, he pushes his hips forward. His cock forces itself into your mouth and your eyes widen, choking immediately at the sudden intrusion. 
Flip’s head falls back and his eyes squeeze shut as your throat contracts around his length. He holds your head, keeping your mouth wrapped around him, and he gives you a quick look of concern, breaking character for a moment. 
Once you give him a quick wink and small smile, indicating that everything’s okay, he draws back before pushing forward again. He establishes a consistent back-and-forth rhythm, grunting softly with each thrust of his hips. You’re taking him so well, better than anyone before. Your choking and gagging has essentially ceased within the first minute or so, the quickest recovery Flip has ever experienced.
Look, he knows he’s got a nice cock, there’s no denying it, especially when he’s got women chanting it in his ear on a weekly basis. It’s long and girthy with a slight upward curve that gives him the ability to hit the g-spot almost every time. Plus, he knows how to use it properly.
But, women often have trouble taking him or making him feel good with oral sex because he’s always concerned that he’s genuinely hurting them. A lot of women are also very intimidated by his size, which doesn’t help him in feeling okay about it. 
You, however, didn’t say a word, give it a concerned look, or hesitate even a bit when he put you on your knees. You’re something else.
He groans, fucking your mouth even harder, hands on the sides of your head. Your eyes are watering and tears have already begun spilling down your cheeks, but you’re not complaining in the slightest. He looks so incredible like this, restrain and composure slipping as the pleasure begins to consume him.
You do your best to establish a bit of suction on his length, and when a guttural growl emerges from above you, you know you’ve done it. His hips lose their rhythm soon after, cock throbbing in your mouth, meaning he’s close. 
He’s panting heavily, spine curling as he fucks your mouth harder, shuddering every once and a while from the sheer amounts of lust coursing through his veins. 
Just before his release, he forces himself to pull away, a strangled groan of agony rumbling through his chest as his shaft bobs angrily at the lost orgasm. 
“Christ!”
You catch your breath for a moment, but that moment is brief because within thirty seconds, he’s got his hand wrapped around your jaw.
“S-S…” He takes a second to compose himself. “Stand up, turn around, take your panties off and spread your fucking legs.”
This time, much to his surprise, you obey, getting into position with little resistance. He smirks, giving your ass a quick swat before rubbing his head through your folds.
“Mmm, shit, you got wetter just from having your face fucked?”
His chin digs into your shoulder as he lines himself up with your entrance. He pushes in quickly with a long, low groan, then settles inside of you to allow for an adjustment period. 
Your eyes go wide and you whimper, walls stretching out to accommodate the large intrusion. Soon, you move your hips a bit, looking over your shoulder.
“You can m-move.”
Flip nods, drawing back before pressing his hips forward again, sighing through his nose as he picks up a steady thrusting rhythm.
“Fuck you’ve got a good little cunt, wrapped around me so goddamn tight.” He growls in your ear, mouth lazily kissing and nipping at your neck.
The burn of being stretched out subsides soon after he begins, replaced with copious amounts of pleasure, jaw slacked as your body jolts back and forth with each powerful movement.
“I can feel you clenching around me, slut...I know you like this. I wanna hear you fucking admit it.” He breathes. “Tell me how good I’m making you--fuck--feel. Tell me how much better my cock feels fucking you than any--goddamnit--other f-fuckin’ city slicker’s cock.”
When he doesn’t get a response, his pace suddenly quickens a bit and one of his hands comes up to wrap around your throat, squeezing experimentally.  “Say it, slick, admit it!”
“Y-You, you feel...okay.”
You smirk, eyes squeezing shut when he brushes against a particularly sensitive spot inside you.
Flip huffs. “You’re a fucking brat--god fucking damnit.”
He snarls, hand closing tighter around your neck, lips right up against your ear.
“I’m gonna fuckin’ destroy you, slick. I’m gonna fuck your tight cunt so hard and stuff you so fucking full of my cum, make it run down your fucking thighs when you go home. You’re gonna have to walk into your fuckin’ house with my cum leaking out of you like the dirty slut you are.”
A loud whine comes from your lips, goosebumps spreading like wildfire over your skin at his words. You’re close already, the anticipation and sensations too much to hold off much longer.
“I know you’re lying, slick, I know you love this fucking cock, and I know you’re close. Say it, say it and I’ll make you cum so fucking hard you can’t see straight for the rest of the night.”
He growls into your ear, panting heavily.
“All you gotta do is--shit--say it and I’ll give you what you want, what we both know you want.”
Your walls clench and pulse around his shaft, preparing for your approaching orgasm. But, even though the temptation is sweet, you hold out.
“Eh, I’ve h-had better. You’re really--oh--not t-that big, prettyboy.”
“Fuck!”
His reaction is exactly what you were looking for, hips thrusting impossibly quick as his hands grab your wrists and pin your hands behind your back. Part of him liked this, being called ‘small’ and being taunted, although he’d never admit it to anyone.
“It’s your fucking loss, slick.”
“Oh, is it?” You smirk, adjusting your hips subtly until you find the right spot, crying out softly as you teeter on the edge of orgasm. “I don’t t-think so--fuck!”
“NO! Goddamnit, f-fuck...NO!” He tries to stop your climax, but it’s too late, you’re already there.
“Y-Yes, fuck...yes!”
You’re trembling as you ride out your intense high, his hips pumping you into a delicious overstimulation.
Your release gushes out around him and Flip feels his own climax rapidly approaching, hips starting to lose their rhythm.
Flip’s absolutely pissed that you made yourself cum, allowing his frustration to fuel his thrusts. His teeth sink into the muscle on the curve of your neck, drilling into you as hard as he can manage.
“Brat!”
He snarls against your skin.
“You’re a fucking d-dirty, filthy--yeah, so fuckin’ tight--naughty brat! O-Oh fuck, shit, gonna--fuck goddamnit--cum…”
“Are you gonna cum? Fill me up, prettyboy?”
You clench around him one more time, bringing him over the edge. 
“Oh f-fuck, yes, gonna--unnhh!”
Being fully prepared to bury his load deep inside you, fill you up, it took him by great surprise when you suddenly pulled him out of you. His eyes fly open and a choked cry leaves his lips.
“FUCK, N-NO!”
He roars, load erupting out onto the bricks and alleyway pavement instead of inside you. His hips rut forward instinctively as he rides out his high, groaning against your skin.
You smirk, slipping out from beneath his grip, pulling your panties back up over your hips. He’s still panting and recovering from his climax, hands spread on the cool brick of the building, eyes catching sight of his seed dripping down the wall as he redresses.
Before you walk away, you run a hand through his silky black mane. You give it a gentle tug, earning a low growl from the handsome man.
“Told ya, no one’s gotten me yet and no one ever will.” You pat his cheek, giving him a soft smile. “Have a good rest of your night, prettyboy.”
You’re quickly overtaken, within the first few steps of walking back towards the front entrance, by a large set of hands. Flip turns you around in his arms and crashes his lips on yours, pulling you close to him.
At first, you’re taken by surprise, but that lasts for only a few seconds before you melt into his touch, melding your lips with his. He pulls away a minute later, a big smug smirk stretched across his face.
“Good night, slick.”
He walks back towards the side door, lighting a cigarette on his way, leaving you frozen in suspension for a moment. Every inch of your skin, every fiber of your being, is buzzing. You find yourself unable to wipe the small smile off your face as you walk back towards the front of the bar.
You look through the window of the bar as you slip your leather jacket on, then your helmet before swinging your leg over your bike. The engine rumbles, ground quaking beneath it as you pull out of the parking lot and onto the freeway, wind whipping around your body as you disappear into the cool Colorado night.
-
Flip is drunk on you as he pays for his drinks and stubs his cigarette out in the plastic ashtray on the bar. The damn bastard’s essentially grinning and giggling with joy as he walks back out to his truck, or at least ‘grinning and giggling’ by Flip’s standards, which pretty much just means a small smile.
It’s quickly wiped from his face when he sees Ron in the passenger seat. He hadn’t even thought about the fact that Ron was listening the whole time, and he can only hope that his partner took the headphones off before anything too explicit happened.
He hops up into the cab and immediately, Ron begins chuckling to himself. 
“Oh, shut up.”
He says, frowning as he backs out of the parking lot.
“I hope you took the headphones off.”
“So, did you find out anything about The Angels?”
Ron asks, snickering.
“Or did you focus on learning more about the inside of her mouth?”
Flip growls under his breath, rolling his eyes.
“Can it, rookie. We’ll go back tomorrow. And, for the record, I cased the joint when I walked in, and there were no bikers in sight. No one that seemed the type, y’know?”
“Well, the bikes were there. They had to be there, right?”
His jaw clenches, kicking himself for losing focus. Although, he doesn’t exactly regret anything he did with you, he just wishes he had worked the case a bit beforehand. 
“They should’ve been there, but I’m telling you, there was no one.”
Ron gives him a look and Flip shakes his head.
“Look, I know what it looks like, but I’m serious. I cased the joint when I went in, and there was no one even close to the basic look of a biker gang.”
His partner sighs.
“I know, and I trust you, Zimmerman. We’ll go back tomorrow, like you said. We should go a bit earlier, maybe try and catch these bikers coming to the bar.”
“Agreed.”
Flip nods as he pulls back into the station, sighing when he puts the truck in park.
“Alright, let’s go report to the Chief.”
The Next Day
It’s another long ass day at the station, although there was a bit of excitement when the Chief went out to his squad car and found the window busted out.
Everyone chuckled to themselves as he flipped his shit, almost as if he’d temporarily forgotten that he was a police chief. 
Flip and Ron went out to lunch at the local diner, discussing the ‘Angels’ case, and of course Flip’s back-alley hookup last night, much to the detective’s dismay. 
He just resorted to sucking down as many cigarettes as he could while Ron fired off questions, hoping the nicotine buzz would get him through this all quicker. It didn’t.
Finally, with the Chief’s approval, Ron and Flip head out at five to Ace’s in hopes of spotting The Angels as they come to the bar.
Luckily, when they reach the bar, there are no motorcycles in sight. Flip backs the truck into a spot facing where the motorcycles were last night, putting it in park before lighting up a smoke. He and Ron pass the time with some casual chit-chat before the telltale rumble of motorcycle engines.
The first bike comes into view, the leader no doubt, and slowly rolls up to the front of the bar, foot planting on the pavement. There’s something so oddly familiar about this leader to Flip, the way they move, their demeanor in general, but he thinks little of it, determined to actually focus on the case this time. 
Once the whole gang has pulled up, Flip grabs his notepad and a pencil, ready to write down the names on their jackets while Ron pulls out his camera. The bikers' engines all shut off almost simultaneously, pavement settling back into the dirt as they all dismount their bikes. 
Flip looks at all the names on their jackets, each beginning with ‘Saint’, writing all five of them down before pausing when he reaches the leader’s jacket. It read ‘Saint Siren’, glitter-infused stitching catching in the evening sunset. 
No, it can’t be.
Saint Siren reaches up to pull their helmet off, and when they do, Flip is stunned into utter and total silence. It’s you...you’re Saint Siren. 
You're the leader of ‘The Angels’.
Ron’s snapping a bunch of pictures as the rest of the gang takes their helmets off, revealing the women beneath each. Both detectives were surprised to see that ‘The Angels’ were all women, considering the general ‘man-ness’ of biker gangs.
Your hair flutters in the gentle breeze as you hang your helmet on the handlebar of your bike, reaching into your jacket pocket for a cigarette and lighter, hand shielding the flame from the gentle breeze. 
“Zimmerman?”
Flip faintly hears his partner say, but he doesn’t process it, too focused on the reality hitting.
“Zimmerman!” Ron says, shaking his partner’s arm.
“What’s the matter with you?”
His eyes dart over to Ron, a serious expression etched on his face.
“That’s her. That’s the girl from last night.”
His eyes widen in disbelief. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m fuckin’ sure!” He snarls. “I only spent all night with her. I’m not that shallow, rookie.”
Ron stifles a laugh. “Uh huh. Well, now we understand why no one could ever figure out who this gang was. No one would ever suspect women to be bikers, much less in a biker gang.”
Your jacket is taken off and draped neatly over the seat of your bike, and Flip quickly tosses his notebook on the dash, clipping the lauve to his undershirt with a sense of urgency. His face is steadily turning redder the more he thinks about it, and Ron can almost see the smoke coming from his ears. He’d be whistling like a damn tea kettle if that were true. 
“What are you gonna do when you get in there? Remember what the Chief wants, intel only.”
Flip huffs, buttoning his flannel back up before flicking on the microphone set on the front seat, tapping the top of the machine. “I know how to do my damn job, I know what Chief said. Just be sure to listen and write the important stuff down.”
He hops down, the heels of his work boots reverberating off the pavement as he walks, more like storms, into the bar.
Earl, the bartender, greets him, but he’s already closing in on you. He doesn’t even hesitate, just walking right up to the table you’re sitting at and putting his hand on the top.
“Can I speak with you a minute?” He says in the calmest voice he can muster at this point, staring daggers at you, teeth gritted. “Please?”
All the girls look up at him, then back over at you, awaiting your answer. You stub out the cigarette between your lips before gesturing for Gladys to scoot out of the booth. She does, and you slide out, standing in front of the familiar man.
“Lead the way, Flip.”
He spins around on his heel, then stops, stomach dropping. How do you know that name?
You giggle to yourself as you walk by and out to the alley. He’s hot on your tail, slamming the door shut behind him, bounding down the stairs.
“I figured it out pretty quickly.” You say, twirling your hair as you lean back against the wall, arms crossed in front of you. “After I saw the mic clipped to your undershirt last night. Looked through the yellow pages this morning and found the contact information for one Detective Phillip Zimmerman of the Colorado Springs Police Department. There’s only one other man by the name of Phillip living in this town, and he’s the guy down at the gas station.”
“Could’ve been a fake name.”
Your lips curl up into a smirk. “Yeah, coulda been a fake name, I guess. But I saw the way you reacted when you said it, looked like you wanted to kick yourself in the nutsack. The mic on your shirt tied it all together, and then when I did some surveillance on the station, I saw you.”
Flip isn’t sure if he’s more nervous or impressed by your ability to observe and fact-find. 
“I’m not the only one that hid my true identity last night, Saint Siren. Nor are you the only one that did surveillance today.” He growls, standing in front of you. “You’re one of the ‘Angels’, the leader, in fact.”
Your face is unchanging, still wearing a neutral expression, before a small smirk tugs at your lips.
“Congratulations, Detective. I’m a little surprised you didn’t put two-and-two together last night when you read the name on my jacket.”
His eyes widen, which makes you laugh. Had your name really been on the jacket that he’d seen, and he just missed it?
“Saw you not so discreetly snooping around the bikes before you came in last night. You ought to check your surroundings a little more thoroughly before ‘casually’ sauntering by the bikes and leaning over to read the jackets...someone might see you.”
You laugh quietly, shoving your hands into your jean pockets.
He’s pissed, you can tell, but there’s also a sense of respect buried deep within his gaze, and perhaps there’s even a bit of desire mixed in, too.
“I...you’re…”
Suddenly, an idea pops into his head, and the rage suddenly melts away. He could use this to his advantage.
“Join me.”
Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you look up at him. “You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not. Think about it, it’s beneficial for both of us. You want to knock the Sharks on their asses and kick ‘em outta town, and I want to stop them from taking over the whole town. We both get what we want.”
You just burst out into laughter.  “You’re a funny guy, Detective, thinking I’d ever even consider becoming an informant. Ha! Sure, I hate the Sharks and I wanna kick ‘em out, but I don’t need the pig’s help for that.”
His jaw clenches. 
“You’re trying to turn her now, Zimmerman? What the hell are you thinking? INTEL, Zimmerman, we’re here for ANGELS INTEL, not the Sharks.”
He shakes off his partner’s words, staring deep into your eyes.
“You know this is a good idea, I know you do, slick. All we need are some names. It’ll be quick work, and in return, we’ll help you get rid of them and stay off your ass after they’re gone, as long as you don’t start or engage in any violent altercations.” 
“Man, you gotta stop. You can’t make promises like that without the Chief’s approval. C’mon, Zimmerman, get outta there!”
“I’m not falling for that bullshit, and I’m not becoming a pig, even if it’s only for a few weeks.” You say, pushing off the wall and standing up straight. “G’night, Detective.”
Flip quickly grabs you before you can even take a step back towards the door, holding your arms as he steps up behind you.
“I never say things I don’t mean, and I never make promises I can’t keep, slick.”
He grabs one of his business cards out from his wallet, teasingly sliding it in your back pocket, giving your ass a quick squeeze.  “In case you change your mind.”
Your skin has erupted in goosebumps as you walk back into the bar, overly conscious of the business card tucked into your back pocket, gently poking your bottom with each stride.
As you sit with your crew, drinking and chatting the night away, you can’t stop thinking about this proposal. 
The thought of being an informant scares you.  The thought of turning on the Sharks scares you.
What scares you the most, though?
You’re ready to get to work.
37 notes · View notes
huearmy · 4 years
Text
The Smell of Truth - IV
Summary: After years being forced to fight in clandestine hybrid ring, Jungkook is now living in shelter, but life remains bad, the place is abusive, and nobody seems to want adopt him. Until one night a pro-hybrid activist group invades the shelter, and a woman in black smelling like truth promises that things will get better, and he decides to follow her wherever she goes.
Pairing: pitbull!Jungkook x human!Reader
Genre: fluff, angst, future smut maybe.
Words: 4781
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Some violent nightmares, nothing too bad.
Chapter I  Chapter II  Chapter III - Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII
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Jungkook was ready to fight.
After eating cake and tons of meat, taste coke for the first time and fall in love with it, you showed him another thing to love about his new life. Something exciting, entertaining and beautiful... He wasn't good at it at first, but seeing you doing it so well just motivated him to do better. Video games of course. All the sounds and colors made his eyes sparkle. The characters were so amazing too. You let him choose what game he wanted to try first, without much reference he didn't know where to start, using as a criterion the cover that most caught his attention and the little you said about each one. In the end he tested so many games that the order wasn't even important. 
You noticed that he avoided violent themes, like fight games, and he preferred the sports, adventure, or cute-looking ones. You came to that conclusion when you decided to show one of your favorites, Dead By Daylight, and before you could start a match he wanted to change to Plant vs. Zombie. At some point you both stopped by Mario Kart and that was the thing. One hour later Jungkook was better than you, throwing all the bananas on you, like losing wasn't an option to him. The bastard is competitive.
"AAaaaaah! nonononon noooooo!" You lose the control of your kart just before finish line as he passes you, crossing the line and winning for the sixth time in a row.
"Yeah!" He jumped from his spot on the floor, running circles arond the couch and you, who was also on the floor.
"That's not fair, half of an hour ago you didn't even know how the controls work..."
"Let's play again!" He seated beside you again, and then his ears perked up. "Can I eat more cake?"
He already ate almost half of the cake, and was clearly in a sugar rush. "Of course. The cake is yours."
With a happy squick he ran to the kitchen, sliding the new pair of white socks over the apartment's wooden floor. As you waited for hi to come back you once again searched your games, looking for any more he might like, and came to the conclusion that you have a very violent taste to games - you are a fervent Outlast fan, for example. You have never dealt with a hybrid so full of trauma so directly, let alone inside your home, so involved in your life, and despite having some sense of Jungkook's past, you don't know everything that torments him or how much, so making him one hundred percent comfortable in this new life is your plan. What you need is to pay more attention to the small details. And maybe you can start by letting him choose some lighter games himself in the online store.
Jungkook emerged from the kitchen, now walking slower, balancing two plates of cake in one hand, and a huge glass of coke, full to the top, in the other, taking care not to make a mess. Carefully he sat next to you again.
"I brought cake for you too." He gave you one plate and got ready for another round.
"Oh, that's sweet of you. Thanks." You played for another hour or so, Jungkook's victories proving that it was not beginner's luck but that he is indeed a fast learner. You were already more asleep than awake, as a result of bad nights and unregulated sleep in the last week, when he got tired of running and decided to change the game. "What is this about?" Jungkook asked, showing you another one. "Ah, is a remake of one of my childhood favorites. It's about a bandicoot who lives on an island in the south pacific, and a magic mask that flies around him, and has a big-headed villain. It's pretty fun." You yawned. "Let's play this one then." He excitedly stated. "Sorry, Jungkook. I'm really tired, and even if I'll work from home, I need to get up early tomorow... I'm going to bed now." You saw the disappointment in his eyes, his ears and tail falling, and added. "But you can keep playing without me." Jungkook looked around, clearly not so happy as before. "Ok. I will play another one that is not your favorite then. See you tomorrow?" He was pouting again, and you thought to yourself if you're going to be able to get used to it. Despite being upset, you could see that he didn't want to have a tantrum asking you to stay. "You are so cute." You said before you could stop yourself, pulling him by the hands for a hug. You rested you head on his chest and reasurely passed your hands on his back. You couldn't see right now, but the brightest smile settled in Jungkook's face. "See you in the morning. Sleep well, JK." "Sleep well, Y/N." _____________________________________________________________________________________ You took a fast shower, put yourself in comfy pijamas and dropped your tired body in the bed. In less than five minutes you were fast asleep. You are the type that has a heavy sleep, that doesn't wake up with anything, and if it happens it is not fully awake, easily coming back into slumber. Normally a lightning storm would not be enough to get you out of dreamland, quite the opposite, the thick rain hitting the window glass has always been like a lullaby. But for some reason, by two in the morning your sleep-pumping eyes were open and alert. Something was off.
You sit, checking your surroundings, listening. Everything seemed ordinary. You got up, looking for your phone, trying to remember where you left it last. You found it lying on the floor beside the bed, between your slippers, some social media notifications and messages that you didn't see before stamping the screen.
Opening one of the messages, a smile formed at the corners of your mouth, as you rubbed your swollen eyes. Still half asleep you played the audio massage, a male voice sounding low. "Hey sweetheart, I'm coming back already. If my flight doesn't delay, I'll be home in the late afternoon... Then I will see you before anything else ok! I'm missing you so fucking much it feels like dying... So..." Before you could finish hearing the message something else caught your attention. You were silent trying to hear again. A soft sound from the floor below. A cry. It brought you from the brink of slumber, zombie mode of yours, to full alert awake mode.
"Jungkook" You went to the door and, knowing the way even in the dark, did not even bother to turn on the lights in the corridor, or the stairs, to run to the hybrid who now lives with you. The closer you got, the more certain you were that the crying came from Jungkook's room, a tightness in your chest leaving you worried at every step without knowing what was happening.
You entered as quietly as you could, stepping inside on the tip of your feet, the room was lighter than the corridor you came from, because of the headlamp on. Jungkook was lying in the shape of a ball, his back to you, wearing silk pajamas that you bought him earlier, the cover lying on the floor indicating he was having restless sleep. He was crying, but still asleep, clutching the pillow as hard as if his life depended on it, his body shivering, from cold or stress, or both, you couldn't say. Regardless, the nightmare he was having must have been horrible. Sitting next to him on the bed next to him, you put your hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly.
"Jungkook, wake up." As if your touch had burned him, Jungkook's eyes snapped open, his body reacting defensively before you could do anything. In a second his hand was around your wrist, holding tightly at a sore angle, making you gasp in pain. For a moment it seemed that even looking directly at you, he didn't recognize you.
"Jungkook, it's me. Y/N. You were having a nightmare, but is everything ok. You are ok." You softly said, ignoring the pain in your wrist he was still holding, and reaching your other hand to his face, brushing the hair away from his sweaty forehead. "You are ok, Jungkook." "Y/N..." His lips quivered, small voice barelly reached your ears. Jungkook is a pile of muscles, much taller than you, bigger in every way, but at that moment, with scared eyes full of tears... you never thought he was so small. "It's, ok." You whispered, afraid that if you spoke a little louder it might scare him. "I don't know where you were, or what was happening... But now you are home, safe."   
He blinked a couple times, looking around, recognizing his own new room, his things, the smell of the surroundings. His tense, ready to fight body, relaxed as his breathing was soothing. He finally noticed his tight hold hurting you, released you and more quickly he sat against the headboard, moving away from you and your touch. The boy's pale face acquired a feeling beyond fear... guilt.
"So- sorry..." He weakly apologized.
It is not the first time he has had this nightmare. It is always the same, sometimes with small differences, but in short it is a ring, metal screens closing all sides and the ceiling, with electric barriers and poles, that if he tries to escape or fall out by accident the injuries will be terrible, that if he doesn’t die by it. There’s a white light on him, as if it were a show and he was the star, but it’s a show of horrors, the fans screaming loudly, from the dark, asking for blood, dozens of men without face wanting someone to die in front of them. Jungkook experienced this so many times in real life, that in a dream it shouldn't be so scary, but here comes the worst part... He's losing, this time he's the one going to die today. While the other guy is sitting on top of him, giving blow after blow he can't defend himself, he looks back, looking for his owner. Jungkook's owner is sitting in a deck chair in the middle of the audience, watching the fight with his eyes without emotion, he is not happy, and Jungkook knows why: he has not been a good boy, he is no longer valuable, and doesn't bring tons of money anymore... So the owner won't help him, he won't find a way to stop the fight to save Jungkook, because it's not worth it. When Jungkook looks up again and faces his opponent it is his own face what he sees, like a mirror, violent and empty... He sees himself as the scariest hybrid in the world.
"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to... Y/N I'm sorry." He started to sob, bringing his knees close to his chest, turning into a ball again, to look smaller and not threatening.
Carefully you risked approaching him again, placing your hand on his knee in an attempt to make some comforting contact, without being too invasive.
"Shhhh... No need to apologize now." Seeing that he didn't withdraw from you again, you finally took his face in your cold little hands. "How are you feeling?"
"What?" A tear ran down his cheekbone, wetting your hand.
"I want to know if you are ok, JK." You smiled softly. He hurting you it's not ok, even if by accident, but that's a subject for another moment, now the focus is on him only. He sighed, closing his eyes and letting himself relax at your touch, feeling the soft tips of your fingers drying his tears. He took a deep breath once, twice, three times before nodding.
"I'm. I just need to go to bathroom."
"Ok." You let him get up, his well-built body looking so fragile as he walked out of the room, disappearing into the dark corridor. You got up yourself, to fix the bedding, get it ready for when he returned.
Jungkook washed his face several times, trying to get the bad impression he could still see when looking in the mirror. "When you're scared, laugh in the face of fear, he won't take you seriously and then he'll leave you alone." The child's voice rang in Jungkook's mind, making him give a weak little smile when he thought that this silly psychology has kept his sanity for years. He wiped his face with a soft towel, and then looking at himself in the mirror he made a funny face. And then another ... And one more. One funny face after another until he feels like smiling for real.
Your happy bathroom, with a nice scent of soap and cute plants, also helped a lot. The urge to cry went away much easier than at any time in Jungkook's old life.
Not really in the mood of trying to sleep again, he dragged himself back to the room, feeling the weight of the world on his legs, considering returning to playing video games and staying up all night... He saw you still on his bed, waiting for him, and stopped by the door, surprised.
"You still here..." You were zoning out, due to his delay in returning. His voice - now more peaceful - put a smile of relief in your distracted face.
"Do you want me to stay with you till you fall asleep again?" You suggested. Jungkook felt something in his chest, almost like a heartache, warm, when he heard that question.
"You don't need to..." He spoke before he could stop himself, regretting immediately, because it wasn't what he wanted to answer.
You left a warm laugh scape your lips.
"That's not what I asked, JK. Do you want me to stay?"
"Yes." You caring for him like this is like a dream to him, so, afraid of making a mistake that would make this moment end, he camly walked to you, lying on the spot you were invitingly tapping beside you, almost with his head on your lap. Almost... You covered him, taking care to wrap every inch of him with the blanket, to keep him warm, as you would do to a child, or at least, how you like to sleep when it's cold, like a comfy burrito. He felt loved. A few minutes went by, you patiently petting his hair. When you thought he would have fallen asleep, Jungkook opened his eyes to look at you thoughtfully.
"Y/N..." His voice was already sleepy.
"Hum?"
"Why aren't you afraid of me?" It's not like you're not expecting such conversation to happen sometime in the future, but at that moment the question took you by surprise.
"What do you mean, Jungkook?"
Jungkook had a hard time finding the right words. He didn't expect you to respond with another question, he wanted you to answer more objectively. A line of frustration formed between the boy's eyebrows as he thought hard on it. You just kept petting him, waiting for him to elaborate his thoughts. "I don't... know. Everybody does... I'm a pitbull and I was a fight dog... I've done so many bad and scary things, so everybody is afraid of me. The people that didn't want to adopt me, the employees of the shelter who beat me, even the doctor who saw me... She was so sweet to me, but she always saw me with a security guard in the room. Even my former owner was always armed when he came to talk to me..." He was frustrated and agitated when speaking. "He always told me that being a fighter is the only thing I good at... That I'm good at being violent. So why aren't you afraid?"
He could sense you getting dark feelings as he spoke. You were pissed, just thinking about what they did to his head made you want to punch someone. Making Jungkook think he deserves to be feared instead of being loved, pampered and adored every day of his life is unforgivable.
"First of all... Get ready because I'm going to give a speech here. Second: it is a protocol, standard procedure, to have support staff when treating new hybrids, especially when they have a history of abuse. It's not because the doctor was afraid of you, it's because she wanted to take good care of you." You paused for a breath, taking care not to be too harsh when speaking and it looked like you were scolding him, which was nowhere near your intention. You sighed and pulled a lock of hair out of his eyes. "Jungkook, you can't believe in any word your former owner told you. If he was always armed when he came to talk to you, it wasn't because he was afraid of you, it was because he wanted you to be afraid of him. He is very bad person. And he's in jail for all the evil he's done, for you and many other people ... And he's a liar. Nothing he has ever said or done to you can define your future or who you are. Can you believe me?"
"Yes." He said with a soft and vulnerable voice.   
He was crying again, with a little smile forming in the corner of his mouth, but still crying. And your heart can't take it.
"And the reason I'm not afraid of you...?" You raised an eyebrow and looked deep into his eyes, as if you were going to tell an incredible secret. "I recognize a cinnamonroll when I see one."   
At this, one laugh left Jungkook mouth, and you couln't think he is any cuter. "Seriously... Look at this doe eyes and sweet smile! You are a cutie pie, JK! The most precious one..." He let you squish his check with a blush taking over his whole face, but then he noticed the bruise forming in your wrist and his smile fell.
"But I did hurt you." He sadly took your hand in his. "Yes, but it can be fixed. It will heal, and it can heal even faster if I treat it right. And you can never do that again." You said logically. "How?" You pointed your index finger to the middle of Jungkook's forehead, and then to the middle of his chest.
"Healing yourself too. I know you're messed up, and that's ok. I'm here to help. We can start with therapy, you know..." Jungkook didn't like the idea of therapy at all, but for now he won't discuss it. You were probably right. "Ok." He said, snuggling closer to your leg. A very loud thunder burst outside, coming very close to the lightning, startling Jungkook, who reflexively grabbed the hem of your cotton shorts. You didn't refrain yourself from hugging him with your whole body, planting a heavy kiss on his cheek.
"Saw what i mean? You are too precious."
With his heat beating frantically he answered in a timid way.
"I don't like loud sounds... That's all."
"Is just loud, it can't hurt you." You said looking into his eyes, your nose almost touching his nose. "As long I'm here no one can hurt you." And there it is again. The smell of truth. The idea of someone as small as you protecting Jungkook from anything or anyone may seem absurd, but for no second he doubt your words, because each one of it smell like sincerity. Your eyes too, so intense as you said it, that made him want to protect you too.
"And what if you are not around when I need you?" He tested playfully. "Then you scream my name as loud as you can and I'll be there in no time!"
"Seriously?"
You seated straight, handson your hips.  
"Of course! I was on the athletics team at college. I'm super fast!" He was laughing, your work was done. "Sorry I woke you up... And thank you for saving me." Jungkook said it with so much affection it made you heart skip a beat.
"Don't worry, sweetie, I woke up to the thunder." You simply said, but he knew this one was a lie. _________________________________________________________________________ After the incredible conversation he had with you in the middle of the night, and the rest of the night well slept, Jungkook started the day very willing and happy. He could barely walk, instead it was as if his legs were jumping around the apartment by itselves. You were up hours before him, but waited to eat breakfast with him - you already had a liter of coffee by yourself anyway. Despite not being what you like to do with your life, and and having another job - running a chain of stores for your family - you have been working as a lawyer for a member office for a few months. Even working from home, you have soooo much paperwork to fill out and study, reports with deadline to deliver, to be a suuuuuper efficient employee. So after you finished eating your cereal bowl, you left Jungkook to play video games alone and locked yourself in your personal upstairs office to work.
He can hear you walking around as you talk on the phone, your voice sounding serious and professional. He was having fun by himself, such a good time with snaks and left over cake, but at the same time he was struggling on not gonna check you out. You strictly asked him to not interrupt you till lunch time. Jungkook spent an hour in this internal fight to go or not to see if you didn't need something or want a glass of juice, to maybe get scratch behind his ear and a smile from you as reward. Like... You were just upstairs and he miss you too much. He was so focused on the game and his own thoughts that he didn't even notice his steps down the stairs and into the living room.
"Jungkook. I need to sign some papers in the office. If anything I'm downstairs."
"Ok." Then you left the apartment. You were too serious. Too cold. Too focused on serious and adult things. A world-sized pout formed in Jungkook's cute face. It is only the third day with you in his life, but he already feels very used to it - your presence of light and warm hugs was able to erase all the years of loneliness that in which he learned to be alone and be satisfied with his own company. Thinking about it he decided to change his plans. He turned off the video game, stretched out and went on an adventure ... He was going to inspect every corner of the house. Field recognition.
He started in the kitchen. He found out where everything, utensils, different types of pots, foods, is kept, and with that he learned a little bit about your personality too... Everything is so methodically organized by category and size that it became very clear that you are a tidy freaky. No problem, learning to respect your habits and quirks, being clean, shouldn't be that difficult. The same style of organization also in the hall closet, and in the bathroom, and on the bookcase for games and movies. He did not enter your room or private office - although the door was open, and he could see a very large bookcase and a table full of papers and an open notebook - because he thought it would be too much intrusion. So the only place on the top floor that went through Jungkook's inspection was the terrace, where your plants are also very well cared for and categorized by type and alphabetical order - including name and scientific name signs. In the tool cabinet, he found gardening tools - as expected - and some useless things  or at least he hadn't imagined you'd have ... Like a neon pink pilates ball and an inflatable Santa Claus.
Jungkook lay on the deck chair on the terrace to sunbathe - few times in his life he had this luxury - and took the opportunity to take a nap. He woke up just before lunchtime.
"Y/N?" He checked on your office, and then in the living room. You weren't back yet, but since it was time for lunch he could finally go after you. Without hesitating he ran downstairs when he saw what time it was, escaping some steps to go faster, and without thinking, or rather remembering, that you probably wouldn't be alone in the office, Jungkook knocked twice on the door and went in before hearing an answer. So he froze by the door when he saw the two men from the other day with you in the room.
You were sharing the office chair with that hybrid - in fact he was practically sitting on your lap while you typed something on the computer, arms around him, both focused on the screen. The other guy, the human, had his back to Jungkook, hunched over the table, also looking at the same thing as you. It must be something important, because none of them noticed Jungkook's presence at first. Once again he felt that he was interrupting something he shouldn't be getting into - the little line forming between your eyebrows, while you read something on the screen in deep concentration saying it. With a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach he also felt that he should be interrupting for sure. No other hybrid should be on your lap while he is home alone. He was about to cough to get your attention, ready to make it very clear how unhappy he was with the scene, to let you know that your attitude was not cool, but the hybrid looked up from the computer, making eye contact with him. All of Jungkook's feelings are gone all of a sudden, leaving only the need to hide in a hole on the ground.
"Hi." The hybrid smiled at him, eyes turning into two crescent moons. This made you and the other guy see Jungkook too. The man, who today was dressed as a very stylish grandpa, turned around, sitting on the edge of the table and crossed his arms. JUngkook felt his face getting hot with all eyes on him.
"Oh, JK. I didn't see it's lunchtime already. Sorry." You said, checking your wristwatch.   
Jungkook couldn't answer, his voice stuck in his throat.
"We ran into each other in the hall yesterday, right?" The human calmly asked Jungkook, not really waiting for an answer. His eyes were so intimidating, a whole dominating vibe coming from him. "He's the one living with you?"
"Yes! This is Jungkook." You pridely said, giving a light pat on the hybrid knee, so he could let you get up. "And this is Taehyung, my friend who rents the studio across the hall. And this little cutie here Jimin he works for me as a counter."
"I like numbers!" Jimin said, cat ears excitedly pointed up. "Nice to meet you." Jungkook finally put some word out, still avoiding eye contact. You closed some folders, saved some docs... Finding it super cute that Jungkook was so shy.
"Let's eat." You stated. "Finally..." Teahyung and Jimin whined in unison. Taehyung out of nowhere lost his frightening posture, practically becoming a child right in front of Jungkook. A very excited child.
"Can we get hamburgers today? Last time Jimin chose, and before him was you..." He picked his shoulder bag and went to the door, stopping right next to Jungkook, who practically froze in place.
You followed suit, stopping on the other side of Jungkook, pressing a reassuring hand against the boy's back.
"I actually want to put Jungkook on a healthier diet. A regular meal would be better." You softly but certainly said with a smile, no room for debate. You wouldn't say that out loud, because it would be exposing Jungkook unnecessarily, and you don't know if he would like it, but his blood tests, done at the shelter, showed anemia, among other consequences of a poor diet, even though he is strong his health was not very good, and your plan is to take care of it.
" I think Jungkook could choose, since he is new." Jimin practically put everyone out to lock the door.
The silence that followed made Jungkook look up from the floor to see that the three were looking at him expecting him to say something he wanted to eat.
"Me..meat?" It was the first thing that came to his mind.
________________________________________________________________
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kwrittink · 4 years
Text
Check Your Messages
Pairing: Best Friend!Reader x Non Idol!Im JaeBeom
Genre: FTL, Smut (pwp with little plot tbh)
Warnings: language, mentions of cheating, explicit intercourse, fem!oral, unprotected intercourse
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masterlist
Check Your Messages
You couldn't handle this anymore. Every aspect of it, of your relationship, you were hating it. But the worse part was, you didn't have any reason to, all of it was bordering perfect. The guy was sweet, treated you well, wasn't prone to cheating, loved you to bits. It just sucked to fall out of love, more to someone like that, so undeserving.
Well, you couldn't exactly say you fell out of love, since the feeling wasn't really present for your partner, unfortunately. You liked the dumbass that asked you out two years ago, but couldn't stand him anymore. And once you start hating the way someone breathes, that's a sign that you probably should leave them.
Before fantasies of making him stop breathing altogether became a reality.
Why were you dating him, again?
Oh, yeah. "Drunk again, huh?" The voice of your best friend JaeBeom dragged you out of your rage-filled mind, glare once trying to drill holes on the skull of your idiot lightweight of a boyfriend turning to the man that effectively held every piece of your sanity at that point. "What was it now? Him trying to match your pace?"
"He's barely conscious, mixed a ton of drinks because he was feeling petty and now I've got to make sure he doesn't choke on his own vomit." You rolled your eyes, crossed arms over your chest not budging even when JaeBeom sat next to you, arm pulling the opposite shoulder towards him, in a consoling gesture.
He snickered. "What he had to be petty about now?"
"Well for starters..." You were going to start rambling what you've already told your other friend. Well, you sent her a long audio message, for when she woke up while on the way to JaeBeom's place, the only person you knew would definitely be awake at that hour. Besides, I know where all the knives are in my own house, so it was the most sensible choice, you thought to yourself, even if that was a lie. You just wanted to go to your best friend's house, abusing his hospitality and knowing that he'd receive you even with a passed out boyfriend at tow.
"Yes?" As he nudged your shoulder you realized you had halted mid-sentence. You'd consumed your fair share of alcohol as well, though anger had sobered you up pretty quickly. By his side, that was ebbing away slowly. That was one of the reasons you couldn't even start listing reasons for the scene your boyfriend made today. It was all about him.
Licking your lips, you looked away from the man that had been the reason for the failure of that relationship, and every other to come, you'd bet. Because you were since god knows when madly in love for someone that has always considered you part of his family, a little sister, as once was put. "He was jealous." That was all you were willing to offer.
"Of me, again?" He countered, and you tensed up, not understanding how could he be so spot on. You'd never mentioned any of your boyfriend's - fair - jealous episodes to him, nor your partner has let it show in front of your best friend, that you knew of. So how could he come up with something like that?
"That's- Yeah I mean, there were other reasons and-" You mumbled in your astonishment, turning to look at the growing smirk on your friend's face, trying to ignore how that simple expression affected your whole body, even more when he was still holding you close.
"Sure... A guy's pride can get really hurt when the girl he loves tells him he'd never been able to satisfy her in two years," he quipped, and by that point you were livid. That was something you send to your friend, word for word. Or at least, you thought so.
"How would y-"
"Y/N," the whisper shushed you immediately, your mouth gaped as you stared at his smug face while he pulled his phone from the back pocket of his jeans, fingerprint unlocking the screen showing, to your surprise, a five-minute audio message on the display. Turns out you haven't sent the utterly frustrated audio to your friend, that was already tired of listening how much you've been head over heels over a man that you could never be with. You were pretty sure that furious and inebriated you had mentioned something like that in the message, along with other confessions you should have never uttered. "You should start paying attention to who you send some stuff." JaeBeom snickered, making all the blood run off your face. What have you done?
Getting up from the couch, you put some distance between both to think clearly. You wouldn't believe a single thing if he weren't showing you the receipt, cursing inwardly as you tried to avoid panicking. "Uhm, you know that... You weren't supposed to hear that," head between your hands you looked down to the floor, feeling even soberer than before. Any speck of alcohol had been burned with how embarrassed you were. "You know, I was drunk- I-I am drunk actually."
"You sound perfectly sober to me, Y/N." JaeBeom's voice was still in the same calm tone and you had to swallow before looking back up at him. "And remember I've known you my whole life - maybe not as well as I thought but - enough to know when you're serious. This is you as serious as the heart attack you're almost having." The playful teasing went completely over your head as you tried to find a way to deny the whole thing you've said. You didn't want to ruin your friendship with him like that, not over such a silly mistake.
But apparently JaeBeom didn't want to give you space to think. "And I hope he agonizes in his unconscious state, wondering if JaeBeom is fucking me the way he'd never be able to. That was harsh, never thought you could be so mean, babe." He kept going, quoting what you've slurred at the back of the car, the taxi driver even snickering quietly at your little speech. You squeezed your eyes shut, noticing how JaeBeom got up as well, stepping once to tower over you only when his body heat hit you and you could smell him again, the familiar perfume you loved on him and bought a bottle every year for his birthday. "That was good Y/N, but you wanna know what's my favorite part?"
Swallowing thickly, you looked up at his face, noticing even in the dim lights of his living room that his eyes weren't exactly trained on yours, rather lower. You were scared to think about the attention of his gaze. "What?" You answered breathlessly. His smile widened again, barely moving as he pressed play on the audio again, your voice echoing in the room.
'If only I had the chance to hop on JaeBeom I would use my time properly, by bouncing on that cock.' You tensed hearing that the last of your morals caring for the man laid on the neighbor couch you were previously sitting on, not wanting him to hear that and prove himself right.
"I'm sorry I... Sorry-" JaeBeom used his free hand to lift your chin, as you mentioned glancing away from his face, a little frown between his brows.
"Why, don't be sorry. I've been wanting to hear that since god knows when. And it was even better than I could have imagined it." You bit your lower lip at his declaration, unsure of what exactly he meant. You loved JaeBeom and if he was just lusting for you that moment you'd probably give in, but the whole thing would still break the friendship.
The fact that he was so close and barely touching you was also aggravating, which made you anxious, yearning. "JaeBeom, I-"
"I know. But I love you, and I know this is complicated for you right now. I just need you to know the feeling is the same. I won't try anything tho-" It felt like ages before you could move again and when you did, the first impulse was to throw your arms around his neck and crash your mouth on his with desperation, almost making JaeBeom fall back.
True to your word, you barely gave time for JaeBeom to prepare before you literally hopped on him, wrapping your legs around his waist and dragging a surprised sound from your friend. Hearing him say that, so sure and clear made something inside of you snap, whatever chain still weighing you down breaking in a million pieces. Morals be damned, you wouldn't let this opportunity escape.
Securing his stance, JaeBeom let his eyes fall shut and, the hands that once started unsure gripping your waist slid down to take a hold of your ass, lips violently capturing yours.
"You don't waste time, huh?" He panted, as soon as the need for air got urgent. Your fingers grasped the back of his head, lightly scratching his scalp and making JaeBeom shudder as you smiled, eyes still closed.
"Can't wait anymore." Was what you could muster, hearing him groan and press an open-mouthed kiss to the base of your throat, making you moan softly. As he parted to look at you, eyes dark with the lust ignited by your sounds, you realized that, despite the time he was willing to offer you, to get your bearings and do this the proper way, JaeBeom couldn't wait as well. How long have both of you suppressed those feelings? How long you've fooled yourself that you'd be able to get over that man when your heart was in his hands?  
In a swift motion, JaeBeom twisted around still holding you securely, getting back to the couch and placing your back against the cushions, his body topping yours in a tight press. You bit your lip as he made quick work of your dress and resumed attacking your neck, trying to suppress the sounds breaching your throat, a quick glance to the side at the still knocked out cold body nearby. Guilt pinched at your chest.
"JaeBeom-"
"You said you wanted him to agonize in his unconsciousness, right? Wondering if I'm fucking you the way he'd never be able to?" The lips once occupied sucking a bruise on the skin beneath your ear interrupted you to mutter those words in a sultry tone that had you shivering. Your mouth gaped at the once more repeated sentence and you wondered how many times had he listened to it to quote that so perfectly. "Want me to fulfill that wish?"
You nearly moaned loudly at the proposal, inner walls of your already damp core clenching as arousal filled you up further. At that moment you knew that as JaeBeom was your sanity, it was also your perdition. You nodded, knowing he'd understand that and felt him smirking against your skin, hands once chastely on your waist sliding back down to grip your now bare bottom, teeth sinking on the sensitive flesh of your neck before starting a new pace, lips traveling down to your chest.
"You're going to be good for me then, huh?" You thought he'd just get to work and wouldn't keep making the mush inside your head that once was a brain work, but there was JaeBeom expecting an answer with hovering a perky nipple, hot breath fanning over it. "Y/N?"
"Pl- Yeah Beom, I'll be good," wherever that came from, the meal turned into speech you had just uttered would make you think later that you were that desperate to be railed by the man that was eating up every sound you were making and gradually losing the grip of his self-control.
"Great. Then let us hear you, babe."
With maybe more strength he intended to, JaeBeom took hold of one breast and grunted before wrapping his lips around the bud, making you yelp loudly at the mix of pain and pleasure it caused. Swirling his tongue once he let your nipple go with a pop, only to rush and take the other one in his mouth, fingertips teasing the slick appendage and sending shockwaves straight to your core, while you tried to catch your breath. If he was being this intense already with only foreplay, you couldn't wait to feel JaeBeom once he got to be inside of you.
And if your expectations of him were high, he wasn't disappointing you, rather exceeding what you had in mind. Lips occupied by teasing your breasts didn't stop JaeBeom's free hand to nonchalantly slip inside your panties, fingers going straight to your slick folds and clit, thumb pressing against the sensitive nub and dragging a wanton moan from your throat, at last having someone other than you touching the poor neglected nerve ending.
As if it wasn't enough, two of his fingers prodded at your entrance, using the overflowing juices to slid them inside with ease and effectively knocked the air out of your lungs as you relished the pain and pleasure of being opened up so suddenly. "So tight and wet," he muttered, letting go of your boob and trailing downwards, peppering your torso with kisses as you writhed underneath him, moaning unrestrained. The presence of your future ex-boyfriend beside you completely ignored.
Too slow he reached the hem of your panties, retreating his fingers only to pop them into his mouth, groaning like he was entranced by your taste. Your face felt hot, either by never having experienced that sight or pure arousal, legs trying to close, and get friction again. Tuting, JaeBeom gripped the back of your knees and shoved them up and apart, exposing you completely to his hungry gaze.
"I can't wait to pound you just how you deserve, babe. But first," he started with a deep and breathy voice, eyeing you up and down like you were a full course meal he intended to enjoy thoroughly, so different from the soft stare your boyfriend gave you before his five-minute performance. JaeBeom looked at you like he was about to devour you. "I have to get you ready to take me, 'kay?" It didn't feel like a question at all so you just heaved, moving to grasp your thighs and keep yourself in place.
The wonders of a good oral were unknown to you, something that you'd only hear about. It wasn't that this other dude wouldn't go down on you, he just couldn't take any hints. He'd never made you cum, though at least you got enough spit on your pussy so his dick wouldn't get in so painfully. Your boyfriend had a great dick, just couldn't use it properly. In JaeBeom's case, you barely needed him to eat you out, already so wet he'd just slip in eas-
"JaeB- fuck!" Your thought process was cut completely as JaeBeom's mouth landed on your engorged clit, not even making an attempt of going slow, suckling at it hard while his tongue flicked at the nub. Your nails dug in your skin, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he did that for a solid thirty seconds and was enough to almost get you to cum. Almost being the keyword, since after the shock he pulled back, smirking pleased at your loud response to his ministrations, looking completely like a beast with his hair in front of his eyes.
"In a bit, babe. I want you to cum on my tongue first." Those were words you thought you'd only hear in your wildest fantasies, but there he was uttering them clearly and with purpose. You whimpered, wanting to reach out and push him back to your boiling core, knowing it wouldn't take long at all to get you to your climax if he kept going with that mouth of his. This time he went slowly, flattening his tongue to slide it across your whole sex, shudders rippling on your body at the feeling of the wet, warm muscle against your folds. The tip of his tongue swirled around your clit with care, flicking the throbbing nerve as he panted against it, hot breath making you twitch. You whined, urging him a little but JaeBeom, with his eyes closed, was too lost on savoring you and all you had to offer him to bother.
A kiss was placed on your mound before he moved again, once more wrapping the plush pillows around swollen flesh and you moaned at the increasing suction and tongue work, but almost screamed at the feeling of his fingers, once forgotten, returned to fill you partially, a come hither motion teasing your whole self into imploding. You weren't exactly sure what would happen but you were sure you'd come soon, and not just once. JaeBeom hummed against you, enjoying the moans that had turned into heavy breaths coming from your wide-open mouth, head thrown back.
Might have been a couple of minutes or mere seconds, but the knot in the pit of your belly snapped, electricity running through your body in waves as you spasmed deliciously around JaeBeom's fingers as he stuck them as deep as he could, working the abused and swollen bundle of nerves to the last of your orgasm. His name echoed in your ears, but maybe that was just you screaming it in the throes of bliss.
"That's it, breathe now babe," he soothed you exactly at the second you stopped clenching, breath heavy with the force of your climax. Fingers retreating, you only heard as he sucked your sweet essence from the digits, the smacking of his lips bringing heat to your whole body. "Breath a bit, tell me when you're ready."
Weakly, you looked at him, watching as he stripped, pulling the loose tee he was using over his head and exposed torso there for admiration. You'd seen the man without a shirt once, but the one in front of you, gleaming under the light with the little sweat on his chest, hair disheveled and stuck to his forehead somehow was closer to a beast than a human. A shiver ran through your whole body as you swallowed dryly, forcing your tongue to aid in the formation of words.
"P-Please Beom, I need you inside of me..." You mumbled, mouth dry and sticky. You watched as he smiled, biting his lower lip, admiring you being already so wrecked while he was just getting started. Hands dropped to his jeans, fingers doing quick work of the button and zipper. Your eyes dropped to observe eagerly, while your lower lip was worried between the teeth.
"I'd like to see your pretty mouth stuffed with my cock but," JaeBeom started, getting up to push the denim and underwear past his knees, one hand taking hold of the length that bobbed after being released. "Now I want you to do like you said, hm?" In the future, the smug expression of his face would probably infuriate you, because he'd know you'd be ready to jump him anytime. But at that moment the smirk only set more fire to your yearning core.
"Like I said?" You asked, taking the offered hand to stand on wobbly legs and giving way for him to sit. JaeBeom nodded, looking amused.
"Come bounce on my cock like you said you would, Y/N." The husky tone literally made your knees shake and you almost choked at the call out. But you said you would, and the opportunity was really presented.
Not wasting another second you straddled his waist, one hand holding his cheek to press your lips on his again, the other reaching between your bodies to grasp his hot girth and tease it on your still slick folds. JaeBeom throbbed, hands now firmly placed on your waist giving a small squeeze to your sides, urging you to put him inside.
"Fuck yeah," was what he grunted against your lips when only the tip was inside your warmth, tongue poking out to lick at your mouth as you panted, lowering yourself on his cock. As you predicted, it felt even better than his fingers, reached deliciously deeper, and made you lightheaded enough to tilt your head and rest it at his shoulder.
"Beom, you're so big inside," you teased, lips against his ear as you gave your hips an experimental swirl. Humming pleased he slid his palms to your ass, pressing down in encouragement to grind with him inside. You abided to the silent request, feeling his head drop by his side at your walls squeezing around him.
You continued the movement till your legs felt stronger, and tried bouncing a little at first, gasping at how his tip was hitting this perfect spot deep inside of you.
"Damn, you're so tight around me babe," He whispered, a lilt to his voice at the end that you perked up a bit to look at his face. Pushing yourself up again you dropped, causing a strained moan to escape, the corners of your lips tugging up at the realization that obviously, JaeBeom could be louder with a little push. It was only fair, he'd made you scream minutes prior, you'd make him feel as good as he was making you feel.
Having an objective in mind made you forget how your muscles were starting to ache, holding to JaeBeom's shoulders as leverage while you began to truly ride him, moaning at how he throbbed inside of you and egging JaeBeom to get vocal as well.
"Fuck babe," you hiccuped, kissing up his jaw just to get closer to his ear again. "F-Feels so good ins-side of me, you're gonna make me c-cum again..." you mumbled while bouncing hard on his lap, a stronger knot forming inside of you. The teasing had some effect, a louder strained grunt echoing on the ambient, his jaw jutted, hips jerking up to meet yours and palms never leaving their spot at your butt, pushing it down as aid. "JaeBeom-"
"Babe, shit! That's it, hmm fuck yourself on my cock like you want to," he went off, humming and hissing at how good you were squeezing him, nearing your orgasm like you vocalized, spasms getting tighter "Come around me like you're meant- I'm right behind you love."
You almost didn't have the strength to get yourself to cum, wasn't by JaeBeom's desperation to get there as well that made him pound up, making the job to only slide back down much easier. At that point, the room was filled with heavy breaths and strings of curses, the scent of impending highs stuck in the air.
"I'm going to cum babe, so close with you m-milking me like th-"
"Please cum inside of me, please!" Your voice was as desperate as you felt, so loud you'd ask yourself how the man sleeping on the couch didn't wake up. "Claim me as yours JaeBeom."
Didn't take him two pumps to start spilling inside of you, arms snaking around your waist to hold you down and take everything he had to give you, the pressure of his tip directly on your cervix, rocketing you immediately to your orgasm. You barely registered, as JaeBeom pressed his head on the crook of your neck, humming and stuttering curses as you went through wave after wave.
You didn't even noticed how JaeBeom had to grasp you firmly to avoid you tipping back, so lost in the bliss.
The only thing that pulled you back were his lips, peppering kisses all over your face until you got back to the real world. He snickered when you looked at him, sighing heavily and weary.
"Hi love, are you okay?" He asked, kissing your cheek tenderly. You hummed and nodded, a smile growing on your lips as you let yourself stay like that a little before you really had to get up and clean yourself.
You looked to the side, snickering upon meeting the drooling face of your still boyfriend, wondering if he'd mind at all you calling one of his friends to pick him up with a little note written that you were over.
Maybe it would be better than him seeing your wrecked state, bruises caused by JaeBeom marking your whole body. You had to have a little mercy left.
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gwoongi · 4 years
Text
dancer in the dark (pt. 1)
jeon jeongguk / reader genre: rockstar/pop-punk au, smut, angst & fluff rating: explicit words: 33k warnings: slowburn, explicit sexual themes, alcohol use, recreational rockstar drug use, smoking, adult language, dark themes including negative side-effects of drug use and drinking including intoxication & irrational behaviour, dry humping, mental health struggle, koo has an australian accent, unprotected sex, slight exhibitionism, if things feel good in this fic then wait 4 part two to ruin everything a/n: ok.....hear me out......guk as a lead singer of an alternative-punk-rock band....and he looks like this......and this….. AND THIS………and his band r basically chase atlantic......Ok ur welcome & pls give this fic a chance!!!!!!!!!! i luv it a lot and its probs my fav so far ˭̡̞(◞⁎˃ᆺ˂)◞*✰ def a long one so get ur tea and blankets and buckle up! notes: have it. this has been in my drafts since like july. just take it and smile.
dedicated to @httpjeon, who force fed me pictures of rocker jeongguk and repeatedly kept me sane + motivated. thank u sm 
Money can’t buy you happiness. Jeongguk, for the longest time, thinks he’s happy. Truthfully, Jeongguk doesn’t know what happiness is until you find him.
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BIRTH OF DEVILS. (LONDON)
“That was August Blue in the Live Lounge, covering Thanks For The Memories by Fall Out Boy. These guys have some right talent, don’t they? Yeah...well, you can keep up to date with them by watching their interview with us on IPlayer right now, and they’re also going to be on tour in London and various other American venues within the next few months. I’m proper excited for that...”
No matter how many interview schedules and radio plays, Jeongguk doesn’t feel as though he is ever going to get used to this feeling. 
For now, it is an endless series of chaos, radio stations and newspapers wanting to talk to the newest music craze- because that’s what August Blue were, whether Jeongguk liked that or not. 
August Blue were a band who nobody thought could make it. From early fans of the band, when they were barely filling up Korean venues and getting more than a thousand views on original songs, to big-name celebrities like Axel Choi who had waltzed into Jeongguk’s part-time job when he was seventeen. The man, one of Jeongguk’s idols, had looked him in the eye, considered his band and his dream and said he didn’t have the talent to do anything good with his band, and told him, if you want to be big, you have to be American.
It wasn’t quite the same, or what Axel had intended for it to mean, but four years later Jeongguk now sits number one on the Billboard Charts with his ‘band with no potential’, making a name for themselves, bringing pride to their culture, love with their music, and money to Korea’s economy. The amount of fans that August Blue had collected over the four years of Jeongguk’s band being formally considered a band were unimaginable, many flocking to landmarks to photograph lampposts he stood next to on Instagram, others going to his home-country to enjoy the country that had birthed icons. 
If only Jeongguk had the same love and pride for his country; they had turned their backs on them simply because of their popularity overseas. 
Well, fuck them- Jeongguk and his band are going somewhere no other Korean band or artist can even touch, and while we’re on the subject- Axel Choi can eat a dick! Jeongguk’s not doing so bad for a Busan boy working at 7-Eleven, and while Jeongguk’s drinking champagne like a King on the top of the charts, it’s hard to see everybody else at the bottom.
August Blue leave the BBC Broadcasting House, on their way to the hotel for their last two nights in London before heading back to America. It doesn’t quite feel real yet, for Jeongguk to say that his band have sold out two nights at the O2 Academy Brixton. Admittedly, it’s not as big as their shows in America, which similarly happens to be where most of their fans are located, but for a first time in the UK, it’s a dream to see it sold out with his band's name and faces on billboards nearby.
Beside him in the black van, August Blue’s bassist Hoseok sighs deeply and fastens his seatbelt, his hands immediately rummaging into his coat pocket to pull out his phone. Nevertheless, a smile does dance on his lips; a few fans had gathered outside the building to see them off, as well as welcome them when they arrived for their Live Lounge recording and interview. It still feels surreal for Jeongguk to see his face on shirts, and to hear people call his name. As the car begins to pull out of the car park, Jeongguk squints through the darkened glass at the fans, a bright smile on his face as they cheer, right until the car is out of the building vicinity.
“Should arrive at the hotel in thirty.” From the passenger seat, August Blue’s manager twists to face the band in the back seats. Jeongguk barely lifts his face to see him, his eyes glancing over and then moving back out the window, watching London pass by in a blur. “Try and get some shut-eye. Good job today, guys.”
“Thanks, coach,” Seokjin replies. It’s always Seokjin who does the talking, taking the role of Big Bro whenever August Blue’s lead vocal and, let’s face it, the reason why they have fans, Jeongguk, isn’t feeling particularly chatty, which is more often than not. “Let’s keep working hard, yeah?”
The question is directed out to everybody in the van, and Jeongguk finally looks over. He nods, gently and smiles as if it hurts him to be genuine, and then his attention is back out the window, his mind back with the fans who had screamed for him, his heart filled with the warmth of the memory.
It’s good to be loved, to be accepted. It’s good to be successful when people doubted you could do it.
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THE DEVILS ARE DANCING. (VENICE)
“It sounds really good, Jeongguk. Want me to run it one more time?”
Jeongguk shrugs the weight of his jacket off his shoulders, twisting the cable attaching to his headphones so they unravel around his body and raises his thumb through the glass to the rest of the studio. On cue, the familiar sound of the opening melody to August Blue’s updated track, Hold Your Breath, floods through the speakers, slightly tinny but nonetheless clear for all to hear. While Sejin, August Blue’s manager, aids the producer by pointing out minor audio flaws, Jeongguk joins the rest of his band in the studio to gather around. The last to join the group is Seokjin, the drummer who rubs at his wrists pathetically, his duet of drumsticks poking out of his back pocket.
Sejin’s right- it does sound good.
The strums from Hoseok, Taehyung and Namjoon’s instruments sounds incredible, and it’s probably their strongest non-punk track of the year. Retrospectively, it sounds nostalgic, reminding Jeongguk of those summer evenings in Busan after a tiring day of school and garage-band practise with the guys. When the chorus moulds together, Jeongguk’s lips lift to a satisfied and exuberant smile, the harmonies from everybody’s vocals blending together before the chorus comes to a finale, and Namjoon’s deeper vocals come for the second round of verses.
As he listens, Jeongguk recalls the moment he sat down and wrote this song, back when he was eighteen and feeling like the world was against him. In that respect, this song means a lot to him and the band, reminiscent of a time where it felt impossible to get out of the garage and into venues. Then, when Friends brought them out of small Korean venues into charts abroad and giving them radio play, Jeongguk had stored Hold Your Breath on a memory stick and his worn out lyric book, until the right moment came for him to present it to a studio. It just so happened that ADORA, a respected and famous Korean producer based in the US-of-A, had loved the track, bringing it back to square one where Jeongguk stands still, unaware that the single has finished playing.
“It’s one of our best,” Namjoon admits bashfully, his hand brushing the back of his neck, a habit. He extends his gaze out to the rest of the band, “am I right?”
“Better than Friends?” Seokjin asks, surprised. He tilts his head as if he disagrees. “Nothing can beat Friends.” After that statement, something about another song comes up in conversation but it dies out over the sound of Hold Your Breath being rolled back and played again.
On the other side of Jeongguk, Hoseok hums and claps the younger on the shoulder, the sound of Jeongguk’s hiss ignored and silenced by the excited discussion over the track by the producers, lunch menus between Seokjin and Namjoon. With a slight wince, Jeongguk looks over at the bassist.
“It’s all thanks to you!” Hoseok says, a tight but honest smile on his face. “Without you, there’d be no songs. I’m telling you, we knew you were special!”
“Thanks, Hobi,” Jeongguk replies quietly. “Let’s hope people like it and it sells.”
“Why wouldn’t it?” Hoseok muses, frowning. “Just because it has a story doesn’t mean it won’t sell. Honestly, Guk, this one’s great. It’s gonna be amazing.”
Like always, Jeongguk finds that difficult to believe, despite records and albums selling luxuriously every time. It’s mandatory to doubt, especially when you’ve got a lot to lose; August Blue are just another band, another group of guys trying to make a name for themselves across the pond. Right now, they’re not huge, not as big as Jeongguk wants them to be- they can sell out a couple arenas, top charts and headline shows, but they’ve still got a long way to go, still got the prejudice of being foreign. If anything, that only motivates them more. Nothing feels better than proving the white man wrong.
“When it’s finished, we’ll have a promising B-side for the album,” starts Adora, the producer looking over her shoulder with satisfaction at the five guys. “I’d like to run through Dancer in the Dark, though? Adjust the drums, maybe add more to the sax?”
Jeongguk nods, taking a quick sip of water from a bottle on top of the small cabinet pushed to the wall of the studio. “Might work better as the A, actually. Guys, what’dya think?”
“Yeah, sure,” Namjoon replies. “It’s a good song- will probably look better with a music video too. Want us back in the booth for it?”
Adora shakes her head, rolling the song back up. “Nah. Just gonna listen for now. Good job, guys.”
With that, and the familiar opening melody of Dancer in the Dark filtering through the speakers, Sejin claps his hands and gives a thumb to the rest of the band, sending them off for an hour or two until they’re needed again. In ADORABLE TRAP Records, singers were more often than not props, voices for her to play with. Jeongguk provides a demo, a rough idea of what the song should sound like and Adora works her magic, changing tones and amplifying the bass, creating something magical and sensational for when August Blue regroup in the studio at a later time. The band trust Adora and her team, considering she’s half the reason why they’re big worldwide in the first place.
THREE AM is August Blue’s anticipated first full length album, after many months of EP’s and mini albums, alongside the handful of covers accumulated over the years. ATR expects it to be completed by the end of the week, with only minor final touches needed on a select few of the tracks, eleven seamless and sensually exciting songs ready to release to the budding and hungry public. Like always, the pressure of perfection hangs over the studio, intoxicating and infuriating, and as soon as he can escape the room, Jeongguk inhales the clean and purified air of the outer studio, where a leather sofa sits beside a flickering vending machine that’s surely seen better days.
Hoseok groans, massaging the cramp out of his shoulder with his leather jacket still in his hand, spinning wildly with the arms extended out, hugging the air. “God, I’m so fucking hungry. Shall we go out?”
“Mm,” Namjoon agrees, “sounds good. Guk, Jin, you in for some food?”
Somewhere behind Jeongguk, Seokjin sighs loudly- a noise that has the nerve to sound like a whine, childish and ungrateful. “I need to find new drumsticks. Look at the state of these things.” Over his shoulder, Jeongguk spies the blunt ends of Seokjin’s sticks, the smooth and rounded ends frayed and close to splintering.
“How did that even happen?” Hoseok asks incredulously, while Seokjin’s distinct laughter rises in volume.
“Don’t ask,” Seokjin shakes his head in reply. “Anyway, won’t take long. Isn’t that one store nearby? The one owned by the Daegu guy?”
Namjoon confirms this. Not too far away from ATR, located in a renovated storage house in Venice, there is a comfortably successful and trustworthy store that August Blue aren’t strangers to; DBOY is one of the best, expensive and well respected amongst musicians who frequent LA. Jeongguk recognises the name, as if on command picturing the small guy who runs it in his head. 
Of course, it’s not owned by him- DBOY is known for being established and owned by Min Dowoon, a retired music producer whose name is legendary amongst artists and most certainly intimidating to the likes of Busan boys like Jeongguk. Regardless, it is his son, Yoongi, who pretty much runs the place. From what Jeongguk can vaguely remember from the last time he met with Yoongi, he recalled the aforementioned to have a fine and grand collection of ostentatious instruments and equipment. As for the seller himself- well, Yoongi can be a little bit of a nouveau-riche, perhaps even unapproachable, but it’s not as if people go to DBOY looking for a conversation.
Jeongguk might be the lead vocalist of the band, but he most certainly does not regard himself the leader. Due to this fact, he stares back at the other members of the band, waiting for a decision to be made for him. While on stage, Jeongguk enjoys playing pretend and acting as if the world was his for the taking, his for his pleasure, off-stage he enjoyed living quietly and comfortably, some might say obediently, shying under the authority of his elder band-members.
“What? Yeah, of course,” Namjoon replies almost immediately. “It’s on the way to that Korean place we went to last time we came here.”
Taehyung sounds zealous at the mentioning of the Korean restaurant, which pretty much means everybody’s mind has been made up. When Seokjin catches up with Jeongguk and wraps his longer arms around him playfully, Jeongguk finally lets himself loosen the tension carved into his skin from the studio, being pulled and pulling Seokjin out of the studio and into the sunny street.
The drive to DBOY is neither long or difficult, considering the traffic has decided to fall on their side of luck today. Hoseok, who enjoys being the designated driver for the band whenever he can help it, turns right and pulls the car into the staff-only car park, uncaring for the signs that turn him away and parks awkwardly near the shrubs behind the store. 
Without being affected in the face of Seokjin’s disbelieving protests against Hoseok’s parking preferences, Jeongguk undoes his seatbelt in a grouchy silence and hops out, feeling the underneath of his knees aching due to the tightness of his jeans. The front face of his knees are torn, the tan skin poking out and slightly red from where, out of unhealthy habit, he scratches his skin, the only source of colour aside from his skin being the mustard of his shoes, comfy and worn out of love.
He always forgets just how warm America is- not that it’s not welcomed, of course. Only, now he half wishes he hadn’t worn an all-black ensemble, the sun hot on his neck and underarms. The rest of August Blue take their gentle time getting out of the hired vehicle, a cacophony on the right side where Seokjin and Hoseok have stepped out, arguing over the angle of the tyres as if it genuinely makes any difference considering the car is out of sight from the public, meaning it’s bothering nobody at all besides Seokjin, who appears to be the only person complaining. 
Jeongguk just rolls his eyes, over it, and brushes his untamed parting out of his eyes carefully, avoiding catching the curled strands on the bar of his eyebrow piercing.
DBOY, like always, is quiet and glorious, rising high against the bungalow-sized stores surrounding the lot. Its architecture is refined, boxy and brown and all-in-all American, a copy of every brown bricked building you’d see in the movies. And yet, it still stands out, with bright yellow accents like the colour of Jeongguk’s shoes, similarly promoted within the interior if Jeongguk remembers correctly. 
The first time Jeongguk had come here it had been with acquiesce, mostly just to shut Seokjin up after he read a few five star reviews online. That was around about the time Taehyung had joined the band, with little rockstar aura and a gift for the keyboard and saxophone, which incredibly added an accent to August Blue’s music that helped them chart worldwide, a Korean The 1975 as a headline which didn’t seem all that bad, given the leader of the latter seemed down to Earth about it. 
Jeongguk now cannot deny that DBOY offers something to a piece of music that quite literally no other can, hence why he sets off first towards the oversized yellow door and pushes it open with all its weight. Like Yoongi and his brusque facade, Jeongguk’s not shocked to find the door is a heavy metal, requiring attention to push it open, but yet it always catches him off guard, as if he’s expecting it to get easier each time.
Once inside, the all too familiar sound of I Want To Break Free greets his ears, the sound echoey and tinny, like you’d expect for a building with a high ceiling decorated with pipes drenched in the signature yellow. It is bright, and chilly as he enters due to the air-conditioning, yet the warmth engulfing him as all of the band enter and the door closes. On a good day, DBOY is virtually empty; majority of their orders are online and dealt with by another customs manager that is not the staff on duty, which coincidentally is how Yoongi likes it, considering he’s a bit of a black sheep, not exactly enthusiastic about talking when he can help it.
While Hoseok and Taehyung make a b-line towards the vinyls and collection of photographs that Yoongi displays in order to show off how many celebrities he’s had the delight of selling to, Jeongguk follows behind Seokjin and Namjoon as they head towards the desk, pushed towards the back of the store behind endless stacks of records, the left side of the store displaying a rare and gorgeous collection of instruments that Jeongguk ogles at as he passes. 
Yoongi is a personal collector of vintages, including exact pieces and similarly replicas, the newer models closer to the desk where the cameras can keep an extra eye on their condition. Jeongguk has half an idea to make a directional change and head right, but the opening to the operative desk appears before him, or over the shoulder of Namjoon as he walks behind him.
DBOY feels abnormally silent today, not even the distinct humming of Yoongi detectable in the stacks. Namjoon purses his lips, looking around half-heartedly before moving towards the desk, raising his hand to drum his fingers upon the varnished dark wood. The dull sound of his fingertips brings Jeongguk’s head away from the instruments, and similarly, a head from a book.
At first, Jeongguk’s only half-looking. In blunt honesty, he’s not too interested in whoever is behind the desk, a sigh leaving between his lips as he buries his hands into the pockets of his jeans with great difficulty due to the tightness, something which attracts the eyes of the little dove behind the desk, her eyes darting to the refined bulge of his biceps and veins crawling on his forearms.
“Oh,” comes a gentle voice that, with reluctance, pulls Jeongguk’s eyes back over. “Sorry. I didn’t even hear you come in! I didn’t even hear the bell…”
Namjoon’s eyebrows pull upwards. “You have a bell?”
“Yeah...I think?” Questionable. “Well, I thought we did...I bet Yoongi took it out again. Fucker, he doesn’t tell me anything.”
Seokjin leans backwards on one foot, taking a peek back towards the doors where, hoorah, there is a bell on the wall above the entrance. “Oh, look at that. Guess you do have a bell.”
“Well,” finishes the voice, and Jeongguk takes the chance to look at the little display on top of the desk, a complementary addition that spells out the cashiers name in a disgustingly ordinary font. Y/N is what it reads today, which Jeongguk makes a note of and looks away from at the same time. “That bell is definitely broken. Huh. Anyway, sorry. Can I help you?”
“Yoongi here?” Namjoon asks, his weight now entirely reliant on the weight of the desk. By this point, Jeongguk has led himself over to the instruments, the only sight of him being his back marked and outlined by the clinginess of his tee.
You nod once, smiling and slamming the book from your lap on the top of the desk. Never did Namjoon expect for the title to read The Encyclopedia of Sharks, and as you spin in your chair to heckle in the back office, Namjoon glances at Seokjin over his shoulder with an amused smile, his eyes gesturing back to the book earning Seokjin a snigger.
“...and you didn’t tell me the bell was broken at the door.”
Your voice enters the store once more from the back office, accompanied by the smaller frame of Yoongi as he discards a tinfoil ball into the trash underneath the desk.
“Sorry. Y/N, the bell at the door is broken,” Yoongi deadpans, and you sneer in reply, tugging away from his childish and playful smile to be seated. When he’s decided he’s finished fondly looking at you, Yoongi addresses the band in the room, a secondary smile lifts the corners of his lips. “Long time no see.”
“Yeah. Yeah, sorry, tour,” Namjoon offers as an explanation.
“Don’t sweat it,” Yoongi shrugs in reply. “You recording?”
“As we speak,” Seokjin pipes in. “And, look- went to some stores in Vancouver for sticks last year and got given this!” His tone is elevated with genuine aghast, holding up his drumsticks and Yoongi pulls a face.
“That’s what you get for going somewhere other than here,” Yoongi frowns. “Come with me. The newest collection actually just came in. You all in here? Keep sticky fingers away from my signed records.”
The remainder of their conversation is muted for you, as you watch the group of guys shuffle away from the desk and towards the display of instruments. Whereas Yoongi holds an extensive knowledge on music and instruments, you can happily and readily admit that it is not within your comfort zone.
Truth be told, the only reason you work at DBOY is for money, and because Yoongi happens to be a relative willing to pay you more than you deserve. Family history is the reasoning for Yoongi’s undying devotion to music, alongside a half-completed degree in sound engineering that he tells people he’s got, because the two years he braved University sure as hell didn’t happen for no reason. 
As for you, you prefer the less audible arts, the ones starting and stopping with paintbrushes and splashes of colour. If someone were to ask, your job at DBOY offers a daily observation of the various album covers dotted around the store, ready to be fingered and thumbed when you’re changing the display shelves, or cleaning the trays.
In simpler terms, Yoongi is the expert. You’re just the person who sits behind the desk and pretends to be a professional.
“Newer Hickory over here,” says Yoongi, as he leads the three ducklings through the store towards the lined stacks of drumsticks. In awe, like a child in a candy store, Seokjin surges forward and gapes at the selection, his eyes glued to a signature collection, signed and overwhelmingly expensive. “Oh, yeah. Queen. Signed by Roger Taylor himself, wanna feel ‘em?”
Seokjin does want; his eyes light up like tiny lamps and they widen in size, followed by the rise and fall of his feet as he hops with literal overflowing excitement. Namjoon laughs at the sight of it, the sound eventually calling Hoseok and Sticky-Fingers-Taehyung away from the pride of Yoongi’s photo collection and towards the rest of the band. Something deep within Jeongguk claws, a smile on his face as he watches Seokjin get visibly excited over the drumsticks formerly belonging to Roger Taylor. Even Jeongguk himself, despite the sudden appearance of his angst, oohs and aahs at the stick set, being directed by Yoongi to the line of new guitars and boxes on show.
“New face?”
By the time Hoseok has settled with the group, Yoongi looks up from the set of Les Paul that Namjoon is admiring for its matte polish and notices Hoseok’s gaze pointed in your direction. Yoongi follows, his chin lifting with satisfactory pride when he sees you’re reading, as always, unfocused on the group and submerged in your own world.
When you wanted, you could be excited about celebrities when they came into DBOY, but there was honestly the high chance that you didn’t even know August Blue. Considering Yoongi knew them through connections and through a year exchange programme in Australia where he had met Jeongguk and gave him advice for the band, he of course felt familiar, close enough to actually consider the members to be friends.
“Sorta,” he admits in reply. “She’s been here a while now. Y/N.”
“She’s pretty,” Namjoon comments, which, to no surprise, irritates Yoongi. He glares in the direction of the guitarist and scowls, his face pulled up with disgust.
That’s when Jeongguk looks over, drinking in the sight of you for the first time ever. Usually, Jeongguk takes great pride in the fact that he fears attachment, therefore closing himself off emotionally to everybody outside of August Blue. Due to this fact, he almost never finds himself interested in anybody, his limitations at sex which, even then, he doesn’t engage in often. 
He spies on you from where he is standing, next to the electric guitar displays, watching carefully at the way you carry yourself, what you choose to show people. What you are doing now is boondoggle, skimming through pages you’ve read before to present the image of you being busy. By luck, you had dressed more nicer than usual for this date- your hair pulled half up and half down, the lilac scrunchy keeping the curls together and a black and white striped dress wrapping around your body to where Jeongguk predicts could be your knee.
Without being modest, there’s really nothing world-stopping about you. Jeongguk knows this as he stares at you; he’s had better, and definitely had worse. God forbid it, but you have the audacity to look normal, mistakenly placed in the store, sticking out like a thumb that is sore.
“She doesn’t look like she should be working here,” Jeongguk throws in, offers almost, and Yoongi regards him with the raise of his brows, an amused smile on his face.
A deep groan rises out of Namjoon’s chest. “Here we go. He always does this- every time there’s a pretty girl, he gets like this.”
“Gets like what?” Jeongguk asks, scoffing.
“Jerky,” Hoseok agrees, laughing and pointing a finger at Jeongguk accusingly. When he silences with small gasps of amusement, he smiles and says, “did you know it’s a turn off for girls?”
“Then tell me why I have more game than you?” Jeongguk quips.
Hoseok just laughs, and both of them know it’s false, considering Hoseok and his unofficial girlfriend have been hooking up for the last five months, whereas Jeongguk has remained single and sexless; which he doesn’t care about, especially when there’s a million other things he could be doing and worrying over. Comfort previously found in pillowcases and sexual endauvers can now be found in white powders and green liquids, either- either warm enough to keep him happy, at least until Seokjin tells him he should stop and put it to rest.
Yoongi quietly twists the key in the display lock after confirming that Seokjin wants the sticks in his hand. “She’s good. She does her job, and in return, I let her do what she wants when nobody’s in the store. Give it a break, yeah?”
Jeongguk scoffs with surrender, raising his shoulders as he lets it drop at Yoongi’s request. Meanwhile Yoongi answers questions about the instruments for sale, lined up for the band to gawk at with ungraciousness, Jeongguk actually turns back around. Another elongated sigh leaves his mouth, the sound of creeping boredom, and finally, his gaze once again settles on yourself. 
You’ve moved since he last looked over; the book on sharks is set on top of the desk again, and now you’re risen. From where he is standing, the desk curves, revealing that his predictions on dress length were fruitless considering the stretch of your dress rises above the knee, bunching around your thigh comfortably. He has to respect it- it’s hot in Venice.
Without particularly wanting to, Jeongguk’s legs wander from his original spot towards the desk, his eyes elsewhere to feign disinterest. The truth of the matter is that he isn’t really interested, unless you counted the dull rise of arousal in the pit of his stomach. That being said, Jeongguk glances up at your face once more and sucks air into his cheeks, hollowing the skin as he knocks on his heels and turns away from you before you can notice. Namjoon was right, to some extent. You were pretty.
“You like The Clash?”
A sweet voice hauls Jeongguk’s attention up and over towards the corner of the desk, where on the other side you stand with both hands flat on the surface, your entire body lifting your weight cutely. Jeongguk’s heart leaps and he glares down at his hands, finding London Calling in his hands, indicating that whilst on his solo mission of pretending to be preoccupied near you, he had just picked up the first thing in front of him.
Jeongguk clears his throat gruffly and shakes his head once. “No.”
For a few seconds, nothing is said. “Oh.” And Jeongguk hopes you’ll leave it there, let him pretend he’s invisible until he’s thought of something to say, but as always, his prayers are ignored. “Do you need help finding something?”
“No,” Jeongguk grits out. He speaks with acrimony, the tone at first catching you off-guard until he looks up, and his eyes tell a quiet story that makes your mouth close tightly. “I’m browsing. Am I not allowed to browse?”
Whether he likes or expects it, the way Jeongguk speaks makes a grin spread across your face, covering your original expression of surprise. He’s not quite sure how to feel about this, or what to make of how his chest feels when it happens.
“Sorry,” you reply, not exactly sounding apologetic. “It’s my job to ask, I guess. Well...enjoy your browsing. If you need me…” Repeatedly, his gaze lifts from the stack of CDs back towards you and it is only when you look away that he allows himself to slip, the smallest of frowns tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Although he knows better, Jeongguk sighs and pushes himself away from his end of the desk. It slides, semi-circular with the front in the store and behind it in its own secluded room, decorated with posters and old lockers that are used for storage. It doesn’t take looking up to register the fact that Jeongguk has moved next to you, parallel; something about Jeongguk feels particularly distinct, heavy and intimidating with the smell of hazelnut that enriches woody elements, a signature male smell that fills your nose.
“So.” Jeongguk starts over, his voice clipped but also clear, as though encouraging a conversation. To you, it feels unpredictable, almost as if talking to him was absurd; to Jeongguk, it is a bravado. “You like sharks.”
Out of surprise, your attention snaps towards him. His expression gives nothing away, and it is only when he raises his eyebrows expectantly that you remember the book, that stupid book you found under the desk when you clocked in this morning after your nine-am seminar. The Encyclopedia of Sharks, smiling razor blades face up at you and an embarrassed heat rises in your body.
“Um, not really?” you confess, avoiding the scrutiny of his stare. Jeongguk’s face is levelled into unamusement, challenging the fact you don’t like sharks in the same way you questioned his interest in The Clash. A bewildered smirk dawns on his face and you smile, tightly and revealing a dimple near your jaw that Jeongguk’s attention is pulled to. “I like Sharknado, though.”
“Right,” Jeongguk replies, finishing with a laugh that is mostly air through his teeth, a snigger of sorts, and he shakes his head downwards, fluffing his hair all within the same movement. It shocks you, genuinely, to hear a laugh come out from his mouth.
While he is busy sniggering to himself, because apparently what you said tickled his remaining sense of humour, you seize the opportunity to dance your eyes across his body. “Your tattoos are pretty.” It leaves your mouth carelessly, but Jeongguk looks up with a smile on his face, a gorgeous set of pearly whites on show.
“Yeah?” he asks, and then he flexes his arms unintentionally, peering at the black ink decorating his skin. Your mouth waters inside, soaking in the sight of him before it’s snatched away, like all the good things in your life. “Thanks.”
“Mhm,” you offer, feeling mortified.
“I saw you’re close with Yoongi,” Jeongguk mentions, after a short pause. “Boyfriend? Best friend? Super close colleagues?”
“What? Ew, no. Yoongi’s my cousin. Well. You know, when someone just becomes a cousin ‘cos you’re close,” you reply, and Jeongguk nods casually, pursing his lips, and it ends there. “Also...none of your business.” He smirks.
On cue, an eruption of laughter simmers from across the store where Yoongi and the rest of Jeongguk’s friends are gathered, and you swallow the lump in your throat and glance at him, finding he hasn’t looked away. “Are you guys, like...in a band, or something?”
Jeongguk doesn’t know what to say. Should he be offended or relieved that you don’t know who he is?
“Something like that,” he nods.
“Can’t be that popular then, if I don’t know you,” you tease, fighting the urge to laugh when Jeongguk’s face falls dramatically. “I’m kidding. What did you say your name was again?”
“We’re called August Blue.”
“No, I meant your name,” you laugh.
Jeongguk splutters, coughing nothing out of his throat. “Oh. Jeongguk.”
There is no reasonable explanation behind why Jeongguk’s stomach feels weird when you smile- it is an unspoken rule that Jeongguk doesn’t do feelings. Jeongguk doesn’t do romance period, only hooks up on the rare occasion that he’s high enough to feel something for someone other than himself. Yet something is unsettling inside, bubbling like the top layer of boiling water in a cauldron, threatening to spill out in waves.
“Well, Jeongguk from August Blue- who I shall be indulging in very soon, as in, when you leave the store and I can do it without you watching me-,” you pause when he laughs again. You wonder if he laughs often, or if you’re one of the lucky ones. “-, it’s a pleasure meeting you.”
“Is it?” he questions disbelievingly.
You tilt your head curiously. “Why wouldn’t it be? I mean, aside from you coming for me doing my job.”
Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “Whatever. And, I’m just saying.”
A playfulness grabs at your shirt. “Why? Are you dangerous, Jeongguk?” Your eyes narrow into slits, challenging, and Jeongguk just smirks, exhaling softly. There is something charismatic about him, that’s for sure.
“All I’m saying, is that guys like me aren’t good for girls like you,” Jeongguk settles, unprepared for the unexpected laughter that bursts from your chest, bouncing around the room until Jeongguk actually feels somewhat uncomfortable. “What?”
But the laughter is uncontrollable, loud enough to bring Yoongi back to the desk questioningly, followed by the rest of August Blue as they shadow Yoongi like lost puppies. Yoongi pushes the small gate open and his eyes widen at you hunched over on the desk, secondly acknowledging Jeongguk as he stares deadpan at you, wondering what it was he said that was so comedic.
“You make it sound so simple,” you tell him, once the laughter has subsided. “It’s cute that you think you know what kind of girl I am.”
Hoseok side-eyes the situation as Seokjin fishes out his credit card, feeling as though they’ve all interrupted something they shouldn’t have. What is more shocking is the fact that Jeongguk accepts the challenge- he’s normally isolative with his voice when around new people, only comfortable at home or on the stage surrounded by people screaming lyrics he died to dream up and write down.
“Aren’t I right though?” Jeongguk asks, smiling like he’s got it figured out. “The pretty innocent girls like you...I’m the kind of guy your family warned you about.” While Namjoon snorts, Taehyung nods, supporting Jeongguk’s statement as you look over his shoulder at him.
Before you can even speak, Yoongi barks out a laugh, shaking his head as he returns Seokjin’s card. “Guk, you have no clue.”
If there’s one thing Jeongguk dislikes, it’s feeling as though he’s missing out on something. Back and forth, he looks at both yourself and Yoongi, waiting for an explanation. Yoongi prolongs it, finding sadistic enjoyment in the gradual irritation solidifying on his face, his tongue prodding his inner cheek with a bored expression to match.
“Dude, her daddy’s Axel Choi,” Yoongi snorts, and he laughs loudly when Jeongguk’s whole face drops to the floor, the butterflies in his stomach replaced with an instant sourness, like the bitter burn of alcohol after one too many glasses.
Bewildered, Jeongguk is rendered speechless, and while Yoongi burps laughter and makes a note of the stock now that Seokjin has purchased something, the respective remaining four members of August Blue share cautious glances, apprehensively watching what Jeongguk does or says. Saying Axel Choi feels stupid and minute, but within Jeongguk’s world, it has the same consequence as saying Lord Voldemort in Harry Potter. Whatever attempts Jeongguk has made to forgive or forget what Axel Choi once said to him in that 7-Eleven in Busan is fruitless, the judging and patronising tone clear in his ears, flooding back like a PTSD.
“Wait, what the fuck?”
“Ooh,” you start, lifting up with excitement, “what did he dooo?”, at the same time that Namjoon warningly mutters Jeongguk’s name.
“You look nothing like him,” Jeongguk says dumbly.
“That’s kinda where the step comes in. Stepdad, no blood relation, thank fuck!”
“Come on, Guk, it’s not like she was even there when he shat on all your hopes and dreams,” Yoongi frowns, raising his hand slightly in an effort to diffuse the tension. Purposefully, he ignores the way you look at Yoongi with question, realising instantly that Jeongguk’s behaviour isn’t a matter of personality but instead pride, a desperation to prove himself. “Lay off.”
“He’s family.”
“Is he fuck,” you snort, the sound and language together making Jeongguk even more confused, his head pounding with a mixture of nausea and relief, the upset of his seventeen year old self something he can’t quite shrug off, like the memory of a bad dream. “And, come on. Isn’t that unfair? Put it this way- your dad kills someone, should we go to jail too just because we’re family?” Jeongguk says nothing. “Besides, he’s been married to my Mom for like, six years? And I still don’t like him or get along with him!”
“We just have...bad experiences with him,” Namjoon admits, not forgetting to throw a glare in Jeongguk’s temperamental direction, and he reacts with a jerk, an annoyed scoff leaving his mouth.
Jeongguk crosses his arms. “He told us we’d never succeed. The fucker basically said we didn’t have the talent to be big.”
“And yet, here you are,” you point out thoughtfully, and Jeongguk pauses, acknowledging you fully. “People always succeed when others are negative. I guess we’ll just have to prove him wrong, hm?”
The funny part is that Jeongguk absolutely knows that you are right. In spite of the jarring fact that Axel Choi’s memory is now back in his life with the news of your connections to him, Jeongguk is fully aware of how none of this is your fault. Jeongguk knows better than anybody that baseless judgements were more often unhelpful and toxic than not, and instantly, an apology is brewing in his mouth, words connected by thin strings in his brain, formulating two simple words that feel impossible to mouth. 
Alas, rockstars and their inflated egos; Jeongguk swallows the words back down, battling the urge to say what’s truly on his mind because he’s afraid of what might come out in its place.
So he walks.
Dejected and confused, Jeongguk spares a look at everybody in the room before shaking his head, as if trying to get something out of his head. The worry that slightly pools in your stomach at the sight of it worsens when he storms back down the length of the stacks, closely followed by Hoseok who is a foot away from calling his name. For the rest of the band, it seems, this is instrinctic of Jeongguk, and they quietly but speedily finish up and follow suit. Before he exits, Namjoon smiles over at you, something hidden in the movement that assures you it’s not your fault, even when your agape mouth and stuttering starts suggest you feel otherwise.
Jeongguk makes it out of DBOY before his lungs cave inwards, the hot smell of air pumping into his body as he steps outside to catch his breath. Hoseok’s hand comfortingly presses between his shoulder blades as he finally catches back up with the younger, and Jeongguk refrains from snatching himself away. The demon in his head cackles and the desperate angel pets his hair, tells him that if he pushes more people away, he’ll have nobody. Jeongguk’s not sure if he’s heard that angel speak before.
Hoseok guides Jeongguk back towards the car, silently accepting that Jeongguk didn’t mean it. He never does. He quietly accepts it, patting his leg when Jeongguk sits down once the car is unlocked. Jeongguk doesn’t say a word, not even when the rest of August Blue pile in the car, animatedly talking about the Korean restaurant they’re planning to eat at next. Clockwork routine, they never bring it up afterwards.
The car pulls away and Jeongguk winds the window down with a frown. He’d like a cigarette.
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Not that Jeongguk has been counting, but it has been four days since August Blue had visited DBOY. 
Against his tight schedules consisting of long hauls in Adora’s studio, revising songs and making minor changes to each track in preparation for the album release in a few days time, the mere memory of DBOY has been the last thing and least important thing on his mind. In sooth, he doesn’t think about it until he’s alone, vulnerable in his own personal comforts surrounded by white and red. The memory haunts him, keeps him awake for no reason. Jeongguk wishes he could go back, wipe the slate clean, listen to the angel and not be such a prick. He can do this- he does do this.
On the following day, Jeongguk wakes up with a free schedule, waking in bed with the dark grey sheets belted around his lower waist. Casting a glance to his phone that lights up distractedly with notifications, he sees that the time reads eleven am and he yawns. Knowing the rest of the band, they’ve probably scattered already; Hoseok had mentioned something off-handedly last night about spending the day with Roseanne, and Namjoon would most likely be reading alone or exploring with Taehyung, the final man of the hour, Seokjin, sleeping in until it hurts to sleep.
He could do the same, but he doesn’t. Instead, Jeongguk gets himself up and ready, finding his body lead itself back in the direction of DBOY, only realising that he’s come back when he’s outside the front blinking up at the sign.
Somewhere down the street, the sound of screaming reaches his ears- sometimes it’s hard to escape the fans who long for a glimpse at their idols, and to avoid them catching on as to where he’s fled to, Jeongguk hurls himself through the heavy metal door and into the store. It comes as no surprise that it’s empty inside, cool again and this time bursting the lyrics to a Fleetwood Mac record he can’t quite remember the name of but recognises.
The long walk down the length of the aisle is intimidating, daunting as Jeongguk walks and sees nobody behind the desk. Aside from the echoed sound of Fleetwood Mac, the store is virtually silent- admittedly, there is a small group of teenagers at the other end talking quietly, but they are so muted that Jeongguk at first doesn’t realise they are there. Instead he continues forward, slowing significantly when he reaches the desk and finds absolutely nobody in attendance.
For a second, Jeongguk considers leaving. However, the herd of fans he had stalking him outside are no doubt still outside somewhere, and as soon as he considers it, the sound of your voice makes his head snap up attentively. The door that joins the desk space to the back office rattles slowly and then pulls open, and Jeongguk inhales a breath when you step out, as charming as you were five days prior.
Jeongguk is all you see when you pick your chin up, staring at his face closely as he hovers lumpishly, looking out of place. Before he can speak, you regard his appearance, a flattering mixture of tonal blacks; the tight leather jacket covering a black roll neck and tight skinny jeans, even the trademark face-mask that has been pulled below his face, hanging by his neck.
“Oh,” you breathe softly, stunned. “Jeongguk, right?…”
“Hi,” he replies, and you take pleasure in noticing the dulled volume of his voice. “You’re here.”
He considers it a win when you smile. “Well, I do work here.”
“Yeah, I know, I don’t know why I said that,” Jeongguk mutters. “I just...Are you free?”
You make your way towards the desk, gently kicking an empty storage box with your feet. “Sadly, I am always free. You know, considering Yoongi is so popular, this shop is always empty. What’s up with that?” It’s rhetorical, and Jeongguk laughs gently. “What’s up? Left something here? I didn’t think you’d come back...well, after…”
Jeongguk frowns immediately, the unmissable darkened gaze of regret on his face. “That’s actually why I came back. Look.” He sighs, deeply and loudly. “I know it’s not your fault. With Axel.” As he speaks, your gaze is glued on him, your eyes occasionally scanning various parts of his face. “And it’s so fucking unfair for me to hold you against things he said before you even knew him, or whatever, yknow? I guess it just caught me off guard.”
You nod genuinely. “It happens.”
“And, look, I know I don’t even really know you that well, but I can tell you’re just nothing like him,” Jeongguk continues, his temper rising slowly. “You’re kind, and funny, and he’s just an asshole and-” But he stops. And, what? And, he’s still family.
“You’re right,” you agree, laughter spilling from your tongue. “No, he’s the biggest asshole. And his music sucks, let’s be honest.” Jeongguk’s mouth opens, like he wants to speak. “No wonder it took him fourteen years to make a hit…” And he laughs, loudly and in agreement. 
It must be a rarity to see him smile, to hear him laugh; with your heart in the sky, staring at Jeongguk laugh makes you feel warm, your hands quivering with satisfaction at the way his eyes curve into horizontal brackets, like moons, his teeth free with the comfort of knowing he’s safe being happy.
So, explicitly, he doesn’t say sorry like he wanted to. He tries- the words are right there, it would be easy, it is easy. As always, you are understanding, sympathetic to Jeongguk as he struggles to get his words out coherently. You know what he means. You like that he cared enough to try, anyway.
Realistically, he could have left it there, and maintained that stereotypical air of mystery and unavailability he’s used to showing people. On the contrary, Jeongguk finds more reasons to slink back towards DBOY, until he’s entirely familiar with your work schedule, having accidentally turned up when you were at a lecture, and had to suffer the pressing curiosity of your cousin. Yoongi had been so over Jeongguk pretending he was here out of personal pleasure of being surrounded by music that he had eventually just told him your work times, prompting Jeongguk into working harder in the studio to ensure more free time.
Like always, nobody in the band minded. If it meant Jeongguk was investing his spare time in something other than his own loneliness, they were happy to let it be. As for yourself, the reoccuring showing of Jeongguk in DBOY was at first, something you anticipated until the third showing where he had turned up in what you think might be his best look yet. Finally, he wears splashes of colour, his aura breathing with life as he turns up to the store wearing blue denim jeans, with maroon boots and a red beanie over his hair which has been flattened.
Each visit from the man is memorable in its own way, for either parties; you gradually learn that Jeongguk was the lead singer of August Blue, his accent distinctly Australian no thanks to his mother’s dual citizenship that resulted in many family holidays out there, and the year abroad that had chanced him to meet Yoongi. In return, Jeongguk learns that you haven’t even turned twenty yet, your birthday approaching soon, and that your a dilettante, knowing virtually nothing technical about music and instead comfortable in the field of physical art, a first year studying visual art and media.
Jeongguk learns all of this on the third visit. On the fourth, he finds out that you’ve finally listened to his bands music in time for their album release the following day, now in love with the truth of their lyrics, a direct quote from your mouth that Jeongguk remembers perfectly. And on the day of THREE AM’s release, on one of his final days before tour preparations are due to start, Jeongguk finds himself in DBOY with the sound of his own voice on the speakers, and the breathtaking sight of you dancing while stacking the shelves.
It’s a new track, one off the album that dropped this morning. Dancer In The Dark plays all around him, his mind reeling when he reaches you, your back to him and hips twirling as you work. You don’t even need to turn around for Jeongguk to know that you look gorgeous- that’s something that has changed over the past few weeks of Jeongguk returning to DBOY to see you, and annoy Yoongi, respectively. 
Something inside of Jeongguk now craves you, beyond the simple lust he would have imagined. Perhaps it’s the way you didn’t know who he was, treated him like a human being rather than a God; maybe it was the way you’re so ordinary, a taste of normality Jeongguk misses, or the way you’re a relation to someone he’s been working for the past four years to prove wrong. It could well be all three.
The baby blue teddy coat over your body covers your skirt, a display of smooth and tanned legs for him to leer at, your hair once again twirled into loose curls, half up and half down, a signature style like Ariana’s high pony. 
Evidently, you’re unaware of his entry. Yoongi still hasn’t changed the bell above the door and the speakers playing his record are right above your head; this gives Jeongguk the perfect opportunity to quietly approach you from behind, waiting until the chorus fades to an end for him to carefully press his hands into your waist with a soft “boo” pushing between his lips. 
In turn, you jump, his hands momentarily cupping your waist as you move out of his grasp, turning around defensively to see who in the right mind would dare to put a hand on you, only for the guard to be dropped with reassurance once you see Jeongguk behind you, a grin on his face.
“Hi, you,” you say to him, wincing when you realise how loud the music is. “Congrats on the album release!”
Jeongguk laughs boyishly. “Yeah? You like it?”
“Mhm!” you assure, nodding with emphasis. Jeongguk follows the hint of moving away from the loud music as his voice transitions into the opening chords of a David Bowie track. “Do you even have a bad song? Like, the difference between Vibes, Dancer in the Dark and Keep it Up...gorgeous.” He laughs again, feeling over the moon at your authentic excitement. “I really love your voice.”
If humans could melt, Jeongguk would be gloop. “Thanks, Y/N. I mean it, I’m glad you like it.” His brows quirk playfully, “Clearly.” He means your dancing, circular swirls to his voice, and you conceal a smile and look away quickly.
“I recognise Hold Your Breath, too,” you continue, choosing to deliberately ignore his playful comment. One might even assume it to have been flirting. “Isn’t that one of your earlier songs?”
By this point, you’ve hopped over the desk, slid over the wood as Jeongguk watched your coat and skirt hike up with the lift of your leg. “Mmm. I see you’ve done your homework,” he comments.
“I got...curious,” you defend weakly. “I like that song. I’m so glad you decided to do a studio version, it is what she deserved!”
Today might be a new record broken for How Many Times Can Jeon Jeongguk Laugh In Your Company.
“Well, there you have it. You can listen to all of it in HD to make up for me not being here for a while.” Your smile falters and Jeongguk smiles in an attempt to ease your disappointment. “We start our promotions next weekend, actually. Just a couple shows in the States, nothing huge.”
“Oh,” you nod, your voice oddly lost and spacious. “Ugh, I’d love to see you live. I bet it’s gonna sound amazing.”
A breath hitches in Jeongguk’s throat. Come on, idiot, jeers the demon inside of him. The angel slaps him on the back of the head but his words do not cease. You haven’t got all day to do it.
“Then come,” he blurts.
Mirroring him, your mouth falls round, open. “...O-M-G, I’d love to...but I’m like...broke,” you tell him, jokingly but around the truth you both know is there.
“Y/N, you can come for free, I’m inviting you,” Jeongguk explains slowly, the grin widening on his face. Awestruck, you’re lost in the beauty of it. “I want you to come. See us play, see me. You won’t have to pay for a single thing- everything’s on me.” He breathes, “Please,” added as an afterthought.
Admittedly, he hadn’t anticipated the following silence. “When?” you ask, breathily.
“Next Saturday,” Jeongguk offers, having thought about it since before the album came out. “At the Hollywood Palladium. It’s our opening show, and I’d just really, really like for you to be there.” You think about the date for a moment, smiling when you realise what day the date falls on.
“Hollywood? That’s...amazing, Jeongguk, really,” you tell him, your voice quiet still. “...Can I bring a friend? When I listened to August Blue, they were there and we both got really invested.”
A weight is lifted off Jeongguk’s shoulders knowing that his offer has been considered. He smiles brightly, the moons back out. “Depends. Is your friend male?”
Now it is your turn to grin, your weight held up by your elbows as you lean on top of the desk towards him, slotted between his hands. His familiar hazelnut scent is strong here. “Yes. He’s male, gay, and incredibly in love with my cousin.”
What Jeongguk feels is not relief, or irritation; an elevated feeling of happiness stirs in his chest. You are so unlike anybody he’s met, from the way you see the humour in everything he says, not taking him seriously enough to treat him like he’s better than everything else, and the way you make him feel like there’s something about him worth liking; to the way you’re probably the only person he’s ever met who genuinely likes the Sharknado franchise. It without a doubt goes without saying that good things pop up where you least expect them to, in people you didn’t anticipate meeting. Feeling like his head is in the clouds, Jeongguk’s lips press together into a smile, bashful in appearance and nods, satisfied.
“Okay then,” he nods, taking a second to grasp the situation before he laughs to himself, scratching his ear absentmindedly. “Here’s my number for then, then. You can call me when you arrive, and then I’ll come out and get you, or I’ll have our manager sort some things out, so you can skip the lines and get in before everyone else.”
“Alright,” you agree softly. “Thank you, Jeongguk.”
Although he shakes his head nonchalantly, feigning only a moderate amount of happiness, on the inside, Jeongguk’s body is screaming, his heart vibrating rapidly in his chest. On the other side, even when he bounces into a following conversation about your hair and the new book placed on the desk that you’ll probably read when you’re bored later today, you feel like you can’t breathe, can’t quite comprehend the fact Jeongguk is standing before you, his number in your phone, the sun unmatching his smile.
Some things don’t feel right, but being with Jeongguk isn’t one of them. Maybe luck is on your side for once.
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(LOS ANGELES)
“So. You’ve decided to be late.”
Adjacent to where you’re standing, Park Jimin lies like a starfish on your bedsheets, his chin tilted up to the ceiling in agonising boredom as you fuss over your hair for the literal fifth time in the last four minutes.
Meeting Jimin was both the joy and the bane of your life, the boy being an unstable balance of chaotic and neutral, his sole purpose in life being to annoy the shit out of you. It had been a lovely sunny morning the day you first met him- only it had begun to thunderstorm the second he entered the arts classroom, pathetic fallacy. Being the quiet black sheep clearly did not always work in your favour considering the only spare seat left was the one next to you, meaning fate had decided to bring you both together to sketch still-life pears and grapes. Either that or a case of big, bad luck- the opinion differed depending on who you asked.
Regardless, here you both are; by cordial invite from Jeon Jeongguk himself, you have around twenty minutes to get to a venue that is thirty five away, and Jimin huffs for the fifth consecutive time, pointedly glancing over as you finish applying a generous amount of lipstick that no doubt will fade during the show. Your face is an art-piece, your body modestly covered in a silk buttoned shirt patterned with red flowers, tucked into some comfortable black jeans that Jimin turns his nose up at.
“They’re comfortable,” you argue weakly, finally following him to the car and deciding to do your shoes in the backseat. As half promised over text, Jeongguk sent a vehicle, the driver impatient and displeased by your tardiness but he says nothing, because it’s his job to drive, not to speak.
“Skinny jeans are the most impractical outfit for getting dicked down,” Jimin says with a clipped tone. “And isn’t it obvious that Jeongguk wants to do that?”
You shrug, biting the inside of your cheek. “It might not be like that.”
Jimin genuinely laughs. “Oh, come on- it totally is. Why else would he invite you backstage, send a car, and stop by at your work almost daily?”
“Maybe he wants to be friends?” you suggest, but both you and Jimin know that’s so far from the truth that you can’t even see it- you just don’t want to admit it just yet. When Jimin’s tongue darts out of his mouth with a smirk, you roll your eyes and lean down to your feet as the driver cruises down the street on the clock.
[17:39PM] Jeongguk 🎼: hey are you on your way?? [17:39PM] Jeongguk 🎼: havent heard from u [17:40PM] Jeongguk 🎼: u ok?
About ten minutes into the drive, almost peaceful save Jimin’s random questions about Jeongguk, or the venue, neither particularly answerable at this stage, a series of notifications flood your phone. Taking the chance to answer while Jimin finds time to bully the driver into talking to him to cure his driving boredom, you glance down at the messages, your body reacting with a flush when you see Jeongguk’s name light up in bold.
[17:41PM] You: yes !!!! in the car rn
His reply is instantaneous.
[17:41PM] Jeongguk 🎼: ok cool 😋 as long as ur safe [17:42PM] Jeongguk 🎼: got worried lol
“Five minutes,” the driver calls, to nobody in particular as he pulls up to a set of traffic lights. Oblivious to speed limits, he seems to have got you there in the designated twenty, before the gates opened for the crowds outside.
[17:44PM] You: we will be there in five minutes ☺️ [17:44PM] You: : i’ll text you when we’re here [17:45PM] Jeongguk 🎼: ok cutie, see you then 😛
You are grown, and too old to be crushing over a boy like you’re in high school, but the way Jeongguk interacts makes your toes curl with a whole new alien type of fondness, the need to giggle paramount. You refrain from doing so, because if Jimin hears he will never let you live it down. In an effort to ignore the excitement and nervousness coursing through your veins, your leg bounces erratically as the driver, who is apparently named Joe after the chauffeur bodyguard in The Princess Diaries (no thanks to Jimin and his “boredom” which borders insensitivity), pulls up in the barricaded staff car park. The fans outside have no idea: they just see a car and start screaming, their cheers making goosebumps ripple up your arms like romantic kisses.
“That makes me feel really important,” Jimin mutters, perhaps glum about the fact that he hasn’t had this much attention since he was chubby and innocent in third grade. “Ready to go?”
“Yep,” you breathe, unsure as to whether or not you mean it. Nevertheless, Jimin opens the car door and steps out, instantly making a crowd gathered by the barricade scream. They scream for anything, just wanting to be heard, but being Jimin, he soaks it up as you clamber out on the other side.
Jeongguk seems particularly popular, and it probably wouldn’t look good if fans saw an unknown girl get out the car to go backstage. You know how fans are, how it’s easy to jump to conclusions without the facts. While Jimin raises his hand to teasingly wave at the girls who scream in response, you follow Bodyguard Joe to the backstage door guarded by two oversized muscular men, bowing your head as you enter and feel the heat of the backstage rooms hit you in the face.
At some point, Jimin joins you inside, shuffling around your body when he spots Yoongi appear at the end of the opening corridor. Yoongi is always invited to August Blue shows, by personal invitation of the band-members who are mostly Namjoon. Remembering that Jeongguk technically has no idea you’re here, you quickly shoot him a text message before a female staff member touches your shoulder gently, offering a lanyard with VVIP written in black ink, likely a band members handwriting. She smiles, quickly running over the safety regulations because, give her a break, it’s her damn job. You’re nodding, acknowledging her words blindly until she’s done, sending you on your way towards Taehyung who pops his head around the corner and smiles brightly when he sees you.
“Hey, you!”
Quite honestly, you don’t think you’ve ever said a word to Taehyung before. He doesn’t seem particularly awkward to speak to you despite this fact, and beckons you closer with a wave of his hand. As you draw nearer, you smell the faint aroma of vodka crossed with raspberry, clinging to his clothes and mouth as he comes close to speak so you can hear him over the heavy bass filling the speakers.
“What?” you ask him loudly, seeing his mouth move with nothing coming out. All you can hear is the recording of Obsessive on the speakers, pounding, reverberating the floor beneath your Dr Martens.
“I said,” Taehyung shouts, his lips on your ear, “Jeongguk’s waiting for you. I need a wee really badly, but he’s in the artists lounge, that way.” He points vaguely in a direction, but the sight of Jimin stepping in and out of a room indicates the general direction regardless. “Enjoy the show, yeah?”
“Course!” you nod to him, and he wastes zero seconds staring at you and legs it in the opposite direction, towards where you assume the toilets are. Your eyes follow him as he leaves in endearment; he’s cute, constantly looking bewildered and confused. It’s his almond eyes, like puppy dogs’.
But the thought of seeing Jeongguk outweighs watching Taehyung leave; you hurry down the corridor and enter the room you expect to be the artists lounge, and your breath is taken away immediately when Jeongguk is the first thing you see.
As if anticipating your entry, he stands the second you enter, and while he moves, you freeze. Jeongguk looks absolutely breathtaking: his hair is curly, falling over his face with a slight parting not directly centered, hooped earrings hanging from his earlobes, adding a sparkle secondary to the way his eyes are shining in the backstage lights. His skin is gorgeously tanned, shaded and accentuated by the slipping material of his shirt that reveals the expanse of his collarbones, the black complementing the tightness of his jeans. You don’t get to look at his shoes- he stops at your toes and you peer back up at his face, rendered speechless by the smile on his face.
“Hi,” Jeongguk says, laughing as if it’s so crazy that you’re here, actually here. Before you can even think of speaking, Jeongguk inhales a breath and brings it back in with one movement; he reaches for you, encircling his arms around you for a quick hug that you’re not going to let go to waste. As soon as he feels your hands on his back, he pulls you closer, tighter almost, one hand on your lower spine and the other on the back of your head.
The hug is genuinely short, but it feels eternal.
“You made it,” he comments, his voice so bewildered that for a moment, you’re actually confused. Jeongguk speaks insecurely and it makes your heart wrench- you wonder who hurt him before, what made him think that he wasn’t deserving of things as simple as somebody coming to a show when he asked them to.
“Of course. I wouldn’t have missed it for anything,” you tell him truthfully, your arms slipping to his forearms. “I’m excited!”
Jeongguk grins happily. “Me too! Ah, I’m happy you’re here. You look gorgeous.” And without shame, he drags his gaze up and down your body.
“That’s good, then,” comes Jimin’s thrown in comment from across the room, where he occupies one of the leather seats next to Yoongi and across from Hoseok, who fidgets skittishly and fiddles his fingers at a Rubix cube. “Do you know how close we were to being late because she was busy deciding a lip colour? Jimin should I go red or nude? Jimin does this shirt go with my shoes? Jimin should I paint my nails red or black to match?”
A laugh ripples out of Jeongguk’s chest and he looks back at you adoringly.
“That’s not how it happened,” you protest weakly, pouting when Jimin cackles and smirks. “And we made it didn’t we? Shut up before I revoke the plus one card.”
“I’m already here, though,” Jimin reasons.
“I’ll force you outside,” you reply.
Yoongi pulls a face, then, finally joining the conversation. “Y/N, you can’t even open the front door to the shop when you enter, let alone drag Jimin outside. Nice try, though.”
An offended gasp leaves your mouth and Jeongguk turns around, petting the top of your head. “It’s okay. Sometimes, even I can’t open it. Anyway- drink?”
You decline this offer, not really wanting to drink anything heavy in fear of vomiting it up when the show starts. Based on your history, throwing up when you’re overly excited seems to be a dirty habit, something Jimin is very happy sharing when you opt for a glass of water while Jeongguk carefully pours himself a glass of whiskey. He doesn’t tease or poke fun. Jeongguk simply smiles, like the story is a memory he’s fond of remembering, and nods you in the direction of the couch where he wants you to sit. It stays this way right up until the show starts, and then the chaos begins and the nerves settle.
Now, you’ve never been backstage before, never seen how crazy it gets as the show’s about to start. While the rest of the band hurry around collecting outfit pieces, taking a drink or tuning their instruments to perfection, Jeongguk quietly tugs at your arm and brings you to the side, a gentle and reassuring smile on his face, a frequently used expression when it concerns yourself.
“Rachel is our main backstage manager and she’s gonna take you and Jimin down to where I’ve put you for the show, yeah?” he explains, his gaze intent. Rachel is the woman from earlier, smiling patiently near the door. You spare her a glance and then look back at Jeongguk. “I’ve put you down by the stage so I can see you, okay?”
You nod. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s okay.”
“Hey, it’s okay, you’re not in the crowd, you’re right by the stage in front of the barricade with the staff,” Jeongguk says. “Safe and sound, comfy and cosy. Can you come back after the show? There’s a party. I’ll- I’ll take you?” His tone is expectant, hopeful, and you’d be absolutely insane to let him down.
“I’ll come,” you promise. “Good luck!”
Again with the boyish charms; Jeongguk’s following smile is relaxed and lopsided, his head similarly quirked.
“Thanks, baby,” he calls, his smile widening when he notices the surprise flood your cheeks. “Cheer loud for me?”
“Always,” you tell him, gauging the scrunch of his eyes before Rachel directs both Jimin and yourself out of the backstage vicinity and towards the VVIP standing just next to the barrier. Whether or not Jimin overheard the entire ordeal is unclear; he doesn’t comment even if he did happen to overhear, remaining uncharacteristically silent until you reach your spot and he loosens up, gazing up at the stage in wonder.
When the venue feels packed to the brim and the reverberating bass of guitars literally vibrates the room, Jimin screams something about his excitement over the noise, catching your widened smile in his direction and laughing, throwing his arms around you.
Hollywood Palladium is genuinely packed to the brim, the fans by the barricade stamping excitedly as the VCR rolls to an end, the lights fade to a crimson red and silhouettes of August Blue appear on the stage. They are sensational, eliciting a chorus from the crowd that is deafening. Jimin laughs again, looking back and forth at the crowd and back at the stage, two girls from the barricade recognising him as the guy from outside and taking a photo, likely anticipating that he is of importance.
Like all concerts, the first five minutes are mind-blowing, epic and fantastical and slightly nerve-racking for all parties. At the sound of the opening chords of Meddle About, another wave of screams pierce the crowd and you wince, not expecting it but a smile still wide on your face. The cymbals crash and the lights flash brightly, revealing Jeongguk on the stage at the front, both his hands on the microphone as he speaks the first words of the night, lyrics dripped in smooth vocals that make your body swirl like on drugs. It’s mesmerising, sexy and sounding perfectly like the studio recording.
Hearing them live is a whole different experience- the way that August Blue perform is otherworldly, feeling like you’re in a subspace of slow-motion, every movement on stage emphasised. Not wanting to waste all of the show gawking at the lead vocalist, you glance at all of the other members, in awe of their talents and presence on the stage, even spotting the golden gleam of a saxophone in your peripheral vision. It is only then that you register the fact that Taehyung plays the saxophone live, and excitement and anticipation replaces birthed nerves from the opening song.
When Meddle About fades to a finale, Jeongguk smiles to himself widely as the melody to Obsessive plays almost immediately after, Namjoon’s riff introducing Jeongguk’s welcoming, “Hollywood Palladium, are you ready?” before he dives into the song. Here, Taehyung fiddles for his sax and beams down at both you and Jimin, returning to his spot to play as the song continues.
Like all songs from August Blue, you wish it would never end, your heels grinding the floor as you bop in Jimin’s arms, his chin buried in your neck as he rocks you from side to side affectionately. For the entirety of the song, and even after then, you refuse to take your eyes off Jeongguk; he moves with calculation and care, the world his bitch beneath his feet as he smirks, fucking the crowd, swirling in figure eight motions as he sings. Jeongguk is the eighth wonder of the world.
Obsessive ends, your torso rising and falling after their performance. It was a show of elan, your body buzzing with small vibrations like a bumblebee; Jeongguk’s hair is disheveled, and he exchanges caring looks with the other members, giving them the opportunity to catch their breath as he once again addresses the crowd.
“Hollywood…” he starts, smiling wolfishly when the crowd erupts into piercing screams, the fans at the barrier pounding against the metal bars impatiently and Jimin eyes them cautiously, wrapping his arms tighter around you and considerately shuffling further away. Jeongguk glances down, then, making sure everything is okay, and his eyes fall on you. The first thing he sees is your smile, enamoured and bright and wide, like golden light at the end of a dark tunnel he can’t get out of. You notice now that he speaks how strong the accent is, months and years of Australian visits clearly paying off. It’s nice, new and different, completely unlike how he speaks in Korean. “We feelin’ good tonight?”
The crowd respond gleefully, and Jeongguk chuckles into the microphone.
“Thank you all for coming out here tonight,” Jeongguk begins, swaying slightly on his feet. The movement is endearing. “Being here, on this stage, is something we have dreamed about, and now that we’re here...Wow. We couldn’t be here without you guys. Everyone who’s here- friends, family, lovers-” the crowd scream because they’re used to being mentioned this way, but when Jeongguk’s gaze briefly flickers down to you, you immediately burn up, curling into Jimin as your best friend laughs knowingly, squeezing you tighter when Jeongguk finishes his speech to the crowd, “-you guys are fucking awesome. You like the album?”
Of course, Jeongguk is not alone on the stage. Reminded of this fact, you pay attention to each members introduction, occasionally finding your eyes wandering back to the lead vocalist who seems to always be staring back. In a sea of screaming fans and waving banners, Jeongguk’s eyes land on you each time, as if reminding himself that you are here, you are here for him.
When the band finish their introductions and Jeongguk says his piece, and the opening hum from the guitars around him announce Dancer in the Dark, Jeongguk glances at you one final time and sees the way your body reacts to the song familiar to your ears, a curve extending the corner of his mouth. Jeongguk brings his attention back to the crowd where it will stay for the rest of the concert, his mind wandering between each lyric and break. Maybe- just maybe, things would work out for him in the end.
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DEVIL IN THE DARK. (HOLLYWOOD)
There is a constant hum in your ears, your fingertips vibrating as you force yourself out of the car.
Judging by the sky draped in an ebony black, it’s either extremely late or extremely early, the loud music from the large estate already audible and you haven’t even entered the party yet. Even though Jeongguk had expected to take you in his personal vehicle to the party that would celebrate their first American show of the year, things hadn’t exactly gone to plan; his eyes met yours as soon as you hurried backstage to find him, pleading and frantic and your name on the tip of his tongue, unspoken when Rachel ushers the band out of the venue after an already overstayed welcome. Still, the frequent vibration of your phone under your thigh when you settled travelling with Yoongi and Jimin instead kept your thoughts preoccupied, Jeongguk’s contact practically permanent on your lock screen.
[23:40PM] Jeongguk 🎼: shit !!!!! [23:40PM] Jeongguk 🎼: i wanted to wait but they kept pushing me outside [23:41PM] Jeongguk 🎼: did u get out safe? [23:43PM] You: yep don’t worry !!! [23:43PM] You: we’ll be on our way soon [23:44PM] You: im hungry so we’re getting food first oops [23:45PM] Jeongguk 🎼: ok baby see u soon [23:45PM] Jeongguk 🎼 is typing…
The triple dots are constant.
Bodyguard Joe is the driver who drops you off, muttering under his breath when all three of you pile out the back and he’s free to leave. Before Yoongi can even shut the door properly he is speeding away, desperate to get out of there. Yoongi can’t say he blames him- he’s only staying for a little bit, at least until Jeongguk starts being Jeongguk. He deliberately doesn’t mention it to you. He wants you to see it for yourself.
Inside, it’s hard to see through the smoke. There had only been about fourty minutes difference between Jeongguk arriving there and the three of you, and evidently, they waste no time bringing the party into motion. Already, guests either by invite or chance are drunk, intoxicated with dark beer bottles and shot glasses, a wreckage of splintery glass by the door surrounded by a pair of shoes, like a warning. The lights are dimmed, each room dark save a lamp with a dying bulb or LED lights, flashing rainbow colours to the beats of songs, the smell of alcohol and weed lifting in the air. It’s rancid, strong and pungent but typical of parties you’d expect celebrities within the realm of Jeongguk to do, people who held the world at arms length.
Along the wall, the coat pegs are covered in a bundle of mismatched coats and jackets, a single Converse hanging by its laces as some sort of practical joke. In light of this, you decide to just keep your coat thrown over your shoulders, the black suede comfortable and moreover protective as faces you’ve never even seen before regard you with high interest as you pass. Jimin scowls and drags you closer to him, Yoongi leading the way with a gaze that could kill, parting the sea of dancers like Moses. The vibe, however, remains undisturbed, the bodies continuing to dance and drink as they were before Min Yoongi stepped through the mix, with two virtual nobodies behind him. He knows where he’s going- he’s done this before.
This mansion is a maze, with corridors leading everywhere, filled with bodies you didn’t know. You deduce that the main parlour where you’re headed to is the hub of the party, judging by the way the small groups of people outside become multiplied, the sound of laughter and music louder when you enter through a doorway. The room is soaked in an indigo neon light, the long haul of strip lights attached to the moulding by the ceiling by silver pins; almost all of August Blue accommodate one of the recliner sofas, one particular male suspiciously absent.
“Yoongi!” Faintly over the sound of the music, Namjoon’s voice carries its way to your trio, Yoongi’s attention moving to the band and he moves in that direction, with both Jimin and yourself close on his heels. Namjoon already looks affected by the alcohol stirring in a whiskey glass, the colour clear and making no difference when it sloshes over the side onto the bare skin of his forearms. Exchanging a tight lipped smile with Hoseok, who seats a beautiful girl on his lap who sips her drink quietly, you glance around the room for Jeongguk, your heart sinking when you don’t spot him anywhere.
“Great show,” Yoongi says, now that the music has been turned down somewhat, no thanks to Taehyung who has just stepped out of the bathroom and winced at the volume, now sitting back in his original spot beside Seokjin and his widened legs. As an afterthought, he adds, “as always. This is Jimin, by the way- and you know Y/N.”
Seokjin looks up from his glass: “Hi honey. Good night?”
“Yes, it was amazing,” you reply, your eyes wandering again. A few strangers are seated on the couch alongside the members, including three girls you aren’t familiar with. Two look out of this world, mentally vacant and the third watches you carefully, her lips pouted sourly. “Hello,” you call to her, uncomfortable.
“This is one of Rosanne’s friends, Cassandra,” Seokjin introduces, although he doesn’t sound particularly enthusiastic.
“Cassie,” she throws in.
“Oh, like the song,” you judge, looking back at Seokjin and catching the roll of his eyes before he can hide it away. Concealing a smile you look back at Cassandra.
“Yeah. Isn’t that funny?” she asks, giggling sweetly. “I like to tease Guk about it. It gets him shy. Did you see him on the way in, by the way? I’ve been looking for him.”
Oh. So she’s one of them- it’s evident in the way August Blue glance over at her with annoyance, glancing back at you with a blank stare. You know better. “No, actually. I just got here.”
“Well,” Cassandra-Cassie continues, smiling tightly, the look so ingenuine that it looks as though it hurts her to fake politeness, “if you see him, let him know that I’m looking for him.”
“Does he even know who you are?” Jimin asks before he can stop himself. Cassandra narrows her eyes.
“We met in passing.”
A snort exits Jimin’s nose. “If he remembers you, I’ll genuinely be surprised.”
Whatever is or isn’t said by the rest of the couch is unheard by you; once Jimin has finished his slander of Cassandra-Cassie whilst perched on Yoongi’s knees, you decide you’ve heard enough and pick yourself back up off the couch despite having only just sat down.
Whoever remains at the couch pays you no mind, aside from Yoongi who nods gently as you gesture to the connecting hallway, an arch in the cream smooth wall that no doubt leads to either the outside, the kitchen or a bathroom, perhaps all three at once. His eyes do not leave you until you’ve wormed your way out of the room, quietly and meekly weaving through bodies on the walls and declining at least three drinks offered in your direction. After peering into several rooms, including the kitchen that was far too crowded and scorching to even enter, and glanced out through the french doors to the scattered party outside, looking on the patio glowing in blues and pinks, the pool splashing with laughter.
Even the end bathroom that is larger than the kitchen is practically empty save the guy passed out in the bathtub with a glass of sparkling champagne in a slender glass on the sink, and you suddenly feel very dejected, closing the door behind you as you exit back to the long hallway. Maybe everything was too good to be true- maybe girls like Cassandra were girls Jeongguk had invited, like he had you, suddenly ghosting when they all appeared in the same room. It feels rude to assume that, but with no text messages or indication as to where he might be and with whom, disappointment begins to simmer in your stomach.
It nearly settles, confusing dejection with nausea and the thought of Jeongguk having played you is a thought you ruminate, until you’re halfway down the hall and a door to a connecting room that has now opened welcomes a body cloaked in the bedroom darkness, an arm leaning out to grasp your sleeve and pull you inside.
A strange sense of deja-vu hangs over this situation, familiarity striking with the hand that unwraps from around your arm and meets the second around your waist. Before you have even finished twirling to face the body in ownership of said arms, the sound of quiet chuckling makes you relax instantly, a smile growing when you fall with a soft thud against the torso of Jeongguk, his mouth in level with your eyes.
“Hi, stranger,” you laugh softly, looking up at him with wide eyes. “I’ve been looking for you.”
Jeongguk hums, and you catch a whiff of alcohol practically pouring off him. “Been hidin’. You found me, you win.” Jeongguk does a poor job of attempting to be sober, his speech slurred and his smile cheesy and smirkish. “I was tryna ride with you, but Joon shut the car door and we just drove off, you know?” You honestly don’t, but you nod anyway. “Tried to call you but dunno where my phone’s gone. Think Joon’s got it.”
“That explains why you weren’t replying,” you say, mostly to yourself. Jeongguk inhales the air through his nose quickly, one sniff, and relaxes his arms around your middle; his forearms are resting on your hip bones with his fingers gently stroking and drumming against your lower back, and it is here, with him so close, that you notice the glow of sweat on his hairline, the fringes slightly matted down and smudged black under his eye, glitter shines of his eyebrow piercing. “Got worried about you.”
“You were worried about me?” he repeats, that same smile on his face. Jeongguk sounds so amazed by this fact, so bewildered that you’d care.
Anticipation whirls in the pit of your stomach as his voice drops in volume and hardness, and the school-girl crush swims back to bite when Jeongguk’s forehead bends to press against your own, the taste of alcohol on your tongue before he’s even leaning in to kiss you. Jeongguk’s hands immediately fly to cradle your face, accidentally bringing a fistful of hair to your cheek as he holds you, practically picking your face up to warm to his mouth. It is just one kiss, long and deep and soft, leaving behind the taste of a bitter liquor.
Jeongguk’s eyes open through slits when he pulls away, analysing how you still haven’t come back to reality from it, and so he moves in again, in a body roll motion stealing a second kiss, his lips pressed up against you in full. He doesn’t know if it’s the booze in his veins or the electrifying feeling of your hands over him that has him buzzing all over- it could be both, for all he knew.
Beginning to doubt his own self control when you mumble and sigh into his mouth, Jeongguk gently brings himself away, out of the kiss and sending your eyes open in a daze. Cracking his own eyes open, Jeongguk restrains himself from going right back in- the orange glow from the outdoor lights shine on the left side of your face and his heart leaps, drumming in his ears. He frowns loudly, feeling your thumbs rub against his wrists. “Sorry.”
You pause, “Why?”
“For making you worry,” Jeongguk explains, his voice murmured through pouted lips. “I made the baby worry.”
“The baby?” you repeat, chuckling. He grins. “We’re almost the same age, y’know.”
“The baby,” Jeongguk coos, his giggles indicative of his level of soberness, which seems to be unlikely. “Little nineteen year old baby-”
“Twenty,” you add, and Jeongguk stops with a quiet “huh” that sounds like a baby, ironic. Jeongguk remembers you telling him your age, and that you’d be twenty soon. Had he missed your birthday? As if hearing his internal struggle, you smile softly: “Today is my birthday, actually.”
Truly, Jeongguk doesn’t know what to say. His mouth hangs agape, like the information was sacred. “What…? You didn’t say anything- I could have got you something, done something-”
“This whole day has been a gift,” you stress, cutting him short and calming him down. “Truly. My Mom and Asshole are in the Maldives because that’s more important than me, and so I went out for breakfast with Jimin, skipped my yoga session because treat-yourself-vibes only on my birthday, and then I had the best time at your show and now we’re here. So, honestly-” as you talk, you finger his shirt, wrapping the material around your nail, “-everything has been amazing. This is my gift- you are my gift.”
Jeongguk pouts. “You’re way more important than the Maldives...you wanna go to the Maldives? Shall we go?” Based off the state of things, Jeongguk is a playful, chatty and overall excited drunk, his eyes blown wide with what you hope it just alcohol buzz. “I’ll take you.”
You laugh, gently stroking his jaw and very briefly, before he can get too addicted, kiss him. Before Jeongguk can pucker his lips back for you, you’re back on the ground with your feet flat, shyly smiling at the way he still tries anyway- because you can’t blame a man for trying.
“You like the party?” Jeongguk asks, unconcerned. His hands are back on your back, now, his arms wrapped around you tightly.
“Mm, it’s fun,” you agree. “Will you come out and join all of us? We’re all in the lounge-” you smirk up at him and he raises his brows, “Cassandra is there.”
“Who the fuck’s Cassandra?” questions his voice, and you laugh loudly, surprisingly gleeful.
“Someone else who was looking for you like me,” you tell him, frowning. He hums, interested in this fact and your expression. “Think she likes you.”
Outside the door, someone rattles at the handle, the noise falling short as though they’ve been stopped from entering. Jeongguk seizes the last word with a triumphant smile.
“Don’t worry,” he assures, and your gaze drops to his lips as his teeth drag on the bottom, pulling teasingly. “I’ve got my eye on someone special.”
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There had been reasoning behind Yoongi’s decision to not mention Jeongguk’s habits.
For one, it’s none of his business to talk about what Jeongguk does and doesn’t do when under the influence. Secondly, he feels as though he’s not supposed to say, like it’s a secret he’s sworn to keep. Truthfully, Yoongi doesn’t want to give the wrong idea- he doesn’t want the truth to be misunderstood or misinterpreted, and so he stays quiet. Like all other members of August Blue when Jeongguk touches alcohol, he’s quiet. At this stage, there’s nothing he can do but wait for Jeongguk to stop, patient and helpful.
It has to be early hours, now, and if Yoongi’s phone wasn’t dead, he’d check. By this point, the party is on its last legs, the volume of people decreasing dramatically as songs become more slow and sultry, all the lights blood red. It’s about time he and Jimin leave, actually; like always, Seokjin and Taehyung have disappeared into one of their bedrooms on the second floor, and Namjoon is asleep on the couch with his mouth ajar, Hoseok and Roseanne planning to remain present in the hub until the party goes to sleep, because someone needs to clean up, and it sure as hell won’t be anybody else.
Yoongi bids his farewells individually, with Jimin needily clinging to the sleeve of his shirt with the vodka oozing out of his body, his head on a whole other planet. By the time Yoongi makes it to the other side of the room where you are with Jeongguk, he’s worried Jimin might actually fall asleep before they get to the car.
Something interesting has happened. Yoongi slowly moves towards the leftover crowd around Jeongguk and sees your face immediately, worry crossed with affection etched into the look on your face as Jeongguk tightly holds you on his lap, his legs twitching and smile on display. It’s around about this time Yoongi begins to overthink it, letting his gaze drop to your hands holding one of his while his other reaches out to the coffee table, littered with bottles and shot glasses, and most importantly, the puddles of white. He gulps, looking back at you. Surprisingly, you don’t look put off, or disgusted- more so you look sad, as if filled with intense guilt as Jeongguk hugs you, his heart in one place and head in another.
When one of the girls next to Jeongguk pats his arm and Jeongguk looks over, you spare the chance to look back in the direction of Jimin, overwhelmed with relief when you see him losing balance over the shoulder of your cousin. Jeongguk struggles for a second to let you free but he does, and you move towards Yoongi, already expecting his departure.
“You should leave too,” Yoongi says seriously. “Before he gets worse.”
He- you look over your shoulder at Jeongguk. Now, he’s on his knees, his chin on the coffee table as he inches towards a fresh line on the surface. Someone’s credit card sits decorated in the powder and Jeongguk, whilst pressing his finger to one nose, snorts the line without question and with a smile. You look away, facing Yoongi with a dark expression.
“You knew?”
“We all knew,” Yoongi sighs. “This...is moderate.”
Processing what he’s saying, you shake your head stubbornly. “If I leave, then it will get worse. I don’t want to leave him on his own. I wanna be here for him, before it gets worse than what it already is.”
“It will get worse, always does.”
“I don’t care, I’m not leaving him here,” you reason. “Before you tell me I’m not special and I can’t change him, I’m not here to change him. I’m here to support him. I’m gonna stay, make sure he’s okay.”
Yoongi really wants to intervene, warn you against it. People before you have tried, he wants to say. But he doesn’t; he smiles weakly, thinking about how you’re too good for the world and people around you and he brings you in for a hug, kissing the crown of your head.
“Alright. Happy birthday, by the way. Twenty...Hag,” Yoongi mutters before he pulls away. Jimin mirrors the movement, drunkenly giggling in your ear as he pulls away and thuds against Yoongi’s side. Yoongi doesn’t even flinch, doesn’t complain; secretly he likes the clinginess.
“Thanks, Yoongs,” you laugh, standing still until he steers himself and Jimin away from the scene and you’re left with no other option but to retreat back towards Jeongguk, who must be on his third line. The distinct and slightly jarring sound of snorting makes you hurry quicker towards him, until you can reach out and pet his hair, making him look up before he’s even finished the line.
The boyish grin that Jeongguk gives you when he looks up and sees your face is beyond beautiful, and he’s so distracted from the lines that he doesn’t notice or care when the girl next to him, displeased with his lack of attention, finishes it off for him. Doing everything in your power to not cry about how Jeongguk looks, fucked and wrecked with white powder under his nose, you shoot him a smile and smooth your hands down the side of his face.
“‘m pretty,” he mutters. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty.”
Laughter tugs at your throat, little puffs of air through your nose as you bend your head to meet his wandering gaze, wiping the powder from his nose before it kills you to keep looking at it. He sniffs, finding that it tickles, and plops his chin in your lap, hands on your thighs.
“Sleepy?” you ask, petting his curly hair.
“Mm.”
“Mm yes, or…?”
“Mm...comfy,” mutters Jeongguk. Through his hair, he looks up at you. “Can we make-out?”
You snort out a laugh, massaging his scalp. “Oh my God, you are so drunk. Come on, big guy.”
“Wanna stay with you,” Jeongguk says. “Don’t leave.”
“I’m not gonna leave you,” you tell him. “I promise. Look, everyone’s getting ready to leave now, too, I think the party’s pretty much over.”
Jeongguk eyes the room with a half-lidded gaze, furrowing his brows like he doesn’t quite know where he is. “Huh. Everyone left.”
“Mhm.” He starts to reach for the cocaine on the table again and your heart beats with panic. “Hey, I think that’s enough now.”
“Lemme finish,” Jeongguk requests.
“You’ve had enough,” you stress, taking hold of his hand. “Let’s leave it there for tonight, okay, baby?”
Jeongguk’s head snaps towards you. “Baby?”
You nod, affirming. “Yes. Look, oh, I’m so tired-” you pretend to yawn, keeping one eye open to observe his expressions as he smiles childishly.
“You’re faking,” he accuses.
“Nope. I’m so tired, let’s go sleep,” you continue.
Jeongguk continues to smile, occasionally laughing when the sound can get out of his throat. You’re half expecting it to be a waste of time, for him to insist on taking more lines and drinking more booze, but he does neither of these things. Jeongguk nods once and runs his hands across your thighs, taking them in his palms and roughly squeezing, getting to his feet when you tug him up.
Across the box shaped recliner pattern, Cassandra-fucking-Cassie glares up from her seat, alongside several others who stare at you as if you’ve grown another head. Truth be told, and unbeknownst to yourself, Jeongguk has never listened to anybody like he does for you. You have no idea how insane it is to see Jeon Jeongguk following the orders of a girl nobody knows, and honestly, you don’t care. Feeling Jeongguk’s hand slide into yours and the other occasionally reaching to fondle the back of your leg as he searches for you in dark is enough, it’s the only thing you care about.
You don’t really know where you’re going; behind you, Jeongguk is mumbling the way to his bedroom, which appears to be up the grand staircase and on the top floor, where he can pretend he’s above the world. Even with his directions, the path seems unpredictable, his torso occasionally bumping into you when you pause at corners. Eventually, Jeongguk notices where he is and conceals a yawn, his face contorted into sleepiness as he gently pulls you in the direction of his room, unsurprisingly at the end of the corridor, a master. Before he can open the door, Jeongguk yawns loudly, slumping against the doorframe and laughing slowly when you curve around him, reaching for the handle and forcing your way into the room.
Inside, it’s cold, the window propped open and a midnight colour hanging on the walls, silence. Jeongguk doesn’t turn on a light, and he doesn’t want you to either. He still holds onto your hand, or rather your fingers, and leads the way inside. His bedroom is like a hotel suite, a small lobby area of sorts when you walk in with three doors North, East and West, all leading to separate rooms including the main bedroom, bathroom and closet, all his for his own liking. He, of course, heads to the East, in the direction of his bed. It’s equally as cold in there but Jeongguk doesn’t care.
Under his breath, Jeongguk hums something unintelligent, waiting until he’s right by the side of his bed to twirl around. His arms find themselves back around you, lifting you off the ground which elicits a squeal of surprise and falls with a soft pat on top of the bed. Your pelvis is on his abdomen, your face on the bed next to his neck and he holds you tighter, engulfing your smell and warmth. Amongst the drugs and the childlike excitement, Jeongguk is an affectionate drunk around those who matter to him. His exhale of breath akin to a sigh tickles a breeze on your ear, and you struggle to pick your head up and look at his face; he meets you with a titter and puckers his lips, kissing you before you can decline. He grins triumphantly.
“Got it.”
“Mm, you did.”
He laughs again, the kind of laugh that sounds gravelly. He’s so drunk. “Got you.”
Humming, you entertain that thought, reaching your head to peck his jawline. Jeongguk sighs contently, about to move his hands from your waist to your thighs when you shuffle up and away, his brows furrowing with perplexion. “You’ve got me.”
Jeongguk’s head tilts. “Where are you going? Don’t leave.”
“I’m going to use the bathroom, and then I’ll be right back,” you promise him. Jeongguk pouts, emotionally clingy which is unusual, but flops back down onto the bed without vocal protect.
In the time it takes for you to rush to the bathroom, pee out of nervousness and nervously pet your hair and make it look absolutely no different, Jeongguk is knocked out asleep when you re-enter the room. His breaths are quiet, and heavy, his legs hanging off the side with his heels on the floor. The urge to sigh is unreal, but you know he must be tired, more tired than you are. Standing just before him on the bed, you’re uncertain of what to do first, but then you move to pull his feet out of his shoes, quietly tossing them to the side and then hauling his legs up onto the mattress. At some point during the night, he might shuffle- he does, slightly, when his body is on one level, and he sleepily worms his way to the side of the bed closest to the window, the right side, his side.
Half of your heart wants to leave. Maybe the way Jeongguk acted tonight was purely because of things he drank, things he lets into his body. But, subconsciously, you know better; the other half of you begs for you to stay. If Jeongguk changed his mind, it would be one walk out of the door and out of his life, easy and simple.
Instead of thinking about that, you gently toss your jacket to the floor and kick off your own shoes, laying flat next to Jeongguk as he falls deeper into sleep. Even if he wakes up with cold feet tomorrow morning, at least he won’t be alone.
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The next morning, it is raining. It doesn’t often rain, and so you can’t help but hear the heavy sound of rain outside the window, no thanks to yourself for forgetting to close it before climbing next to Jeongguk. Speaking of the man, he remains asleep, his head twisted on the pillow facing you with his body flat on his back, one leg up and the other spread out. He looks so peaceful, hopefully at peace with his dreams.
Without waking him up, you roll over off the bed and sink your feet to the floor, silently retreating to the bathroom with your phone in your hand. Surprised by the time, it reads eight fifty am, and you scroll down your notifications which seem to have multiplied unusually. Few are from Instagram but majority are texts, from Yoongi and Jimin, one from your Mom that reads a simple “happy bday” and nothing more.
[03:32AM]: Yoongi 👹: hope ur safe and ok [03:41AM] Yoongi 👹: did u go home?
He sent those at three.
[08:50AM] You: shit sorry [08:50AM] You: was sleeping [08:51AM] You: im still with jeongguk, he passed out and i stayed so he wouldn’t wake up on his own
There is a short silence.
[08:53AM] Yoongi 👹: ok, be safe [08:53AM] Yoongi 👹: jimin says good morning lol
Sitting on top of the closed toilet, you hurriedly reply to the flurry of messages and by the time you’ve finished, ten minutes have passed and it is now nine. Checking over yourself in the mirror and deciding that you could ultimately look a lot worse, you move back into the bedroom, overhearing loudness from the remaining people in the house who had an early start to the day.
Jeongguk stirs slightly, showing signs of being awake. Under his breath he groans, reluctant to confirm his consciousness by keeping his eyes closed, and you slowly reach to put your phone back on the bedside table and clamber on all fours onto the bed. With the weight dipped, Jeongguk huffs, peering open one eye and watching you crawl up to him, knees near his body and hands brushing the long hair out of his eyes.
“Morning, sleepy-head,” you coo, voice quiet because nine is still early.
Jeongguk groans, saying nothing. He shifts, ironing out the cramps in his limbs and sitting up, reaching a hand out for you, grabbing air like a child. Your gaze drops to the way his fingers roll expectantly and you slip your hand into his, taken aback when he tugs you over onto him, your legs over his hips as his arms steady around your waist.
Suddenly he’s very awake, moving your hair back and then kissing you, like he’s been starved of it. It begins gentle, timid, with his hands barely touching you as if he’s expecting you to move away and reject it. You don’t, however; when he pulls back you immediately move back in, twisting your arms around his neck, prompting him to follow by tightening his arms around your body, bringing you flush up against him, hips touching, sex throbbing. Jeongguk groans into your mouth, his hands guiding your body as you make shy movements, barely rolling up against him creating friction he wasn’t aware he needed so badly.
Jeongguk isn’t sure if what he’s doing is okay, and you don’t care. All that seems to matter is having you near him, as close as you can possibly be. Under your shirt, Jeongguk slides his hand up your back until it’s at the back of your neck, his left tight on your hip bone as the guider. He welcomes, no, encourages, your hips rocking against his slowly, teasingly, perfect momentum for the morning with the rain. It is both unnerving and exciting in how Jeongguk remains silent, save his occasional groans into your mouth. 
Once Jeongguk has grown bored of kissing your mouth, satisfied with all he’s done, his mouth departs and moves to your jaw, peppering a line of wet kisses from the underside to your neck. His hands spring away and move to hastily unbutton your shirt, unpopping one at a time as you whimper, feeling the hardness buried in Jeongguk’s jeans begging to be free.
Jeongguk breathes heavily, desperately pulling the buttons undone and undressing your shirt from your body. At first, he barely notices the fact that your bra is missing until the shirt is down to your elbows, sexily like a shawl, and his eyes land on your hardened nipples. Jeongguk half laughs, touching his thumbs on the underside of your breasts.
“Just like that,” he mutters, and you pout through a whimper that brings his eyes up to your own.
“Shut up, there was no way I was sleeping with it on,” you reply, and he hums, it makes sense. Jeongguk doesn’t blame you- why would he? He’s a guy, he likes tits; he likes your tits, smallish and round, big enough for him to hold and fit in his mouth, which he does.
Raising his eyebrows, Jeongguk smirks and brings his mouth to your right tit, his mouth around your nipple and you moan sweetly, your hand raking through his messy bed-curls. Like taking a toothless bite out of a whip of ice cream, Jeongguk’s lips pull around it, his eyes flickering up to observe your expressions- one glance and he immediately feels overwhelmed, a pressure on his crotch, discomfort, the need to be free. His hips stutter and he ruts up against you, two clothed crotches rubbing together, stolen gasps in the morning ambience. Finished with his hands on your tits, Jeongguk fully removes your shirt, balling it up and throwing it across the room, where it lands pathetically on one of the knobs of his drawers.
In one movement, Jeongguk secures his arms around you and hikes himself up onto his feet, squatting and turning so you should fall on your back. Following, he pushes you down into the mattress, your head half on the pillow and this time, his legs on your hips, not an overpowering weight but enough to keep you pinned down. You writhe, your back arching up off the mattress as Jeongguk’s mouth trails down from your face, where he leaves a starting kiss on your lips, down your neck and between your breasts, encouraging the roll of your hips with his hands. Muttered incoherence is all he can hear as he shimmies down, his tongue on your skin, teasingly licking a stripe up across your crotch covered by uncomfortable jeans.
Jimin, that fucker, he’d been right. Skinny jeans truly were the least practical outfit.
Jeongguk straddles himself up, planting his body over you like one would during sex. Humming against your lips, Jeongguk’s teeth pull at your bottom lip, his left hand gripping your leg and positioning it around his waist, your legs parted and his crotch directly hitting yours with every grind. Jeongguk gives nothing away- he stares, unwaveringly and deadpan directly into your eyes, grunting at the faces you pull, the whimpers leaving your lips, your rutting underneath him.
He buckles unexpectedly, pounding you deep into the mattress with a high pitched moan, captured by his mouth as he squeezes your flesh around his hand, holding you to him like letting you go would result in him losing you entirely. Jeongguk’s torn between wanting to cry and scream; in his short, sad, twenty one years of living, he’s not sure he’s ever felt as desperate for another person before. Never craved somebody the way he craves you, never needed somebody the way he needs you. Jeongguk stares into your eyes, opia. For fucks sake- he likes you so much, needs you so much-
“Jeongguk, you up?”
Freeze frame. Namjoon steps into the room, his eyes widening with surprise when he comes through the East and spots your shoes and bra by the door, shirt hanging off the cupboard, and Jeongguk on top of you with his lips on your neck, hands on your waist, leg around his middle and crotch up against his. Over Jeongguk’s bicep, you stare at him, your eyes blown open, but Jeongguk doesn’t seem to stop, or even care. Even when you grip on his bicep to let him know you’re not alone, Jeongguk looks up from your neck and spots Namjoon. A soft exhale leaves his lips and he grunts, unbothered.
“Yeah,” he replies bluntly, biting down on your neck and revelling in the tug he receives in his hair when he does so. Still, Namjoon stands by the door in awe, unsure of what to do or say. Jeongguk pulls away, his face still stuffed in your neck, “you need something, Namjoon?”
“I,” Namjoon says, gathering his thoughts. He clears his throat. “Sejin called...He said he’s going to be round at about eleven ish, so I was, um, coming to see if you wanted breakfast, or…” As he speaks, Jeongguk is selfish, still grinding against you like Namjoon’s not even there. He’s listening though, his ear free to hear as he sucks his mouth on your skin, practising sex against your jeans.
Naturally, Namjoon’s gaze wanders to your breasts when Jeongguk picks himself up slightly, grabbing one with his palm and kissing patterns across your sternum. He gulps, uncomfortable.
“Be down in a minute,” Jeongguk says, shrugs, not really a promise. Namjoon nods, flushing as you moan unexpectedly, your traitor pussy having a mind of its own, controlling the way you think. Namjoon about makes out an arch on the grey comforter and catches your gaze, half-lidded, and he turns away, he’s seen enough.
“Take your time,” Namjoon squeaks out, unsure of whether the flush is for his head or his dick but he’s not sticking around to find out, and hurries out the door and back into the house. Jeongguk’s facade doesn’t fall until he knows for certain that Namjoon has left, which means he waits until the sound of laughter resonates downstairs, meaning Namjoon’s said his piece to the rest of the band likely gathered somewhere, waiting for him.
Planting one final kiss to your breast, Jeongguk groans and picks himself up onto his hands, his torso still over the lower half of your body and his gaze on your chest. It doesn’t move for a moment, staring in silence until he suddenly starts laughing to himself. The tangled mess of hair bounces with his shoulders and his head drops for a few moments, and then he peers up at you with a smile and you can’t contain your own bubbling laughter, scandalised.
“I know I’m a day late,” he breathes, “but.” Jeongguk smiles softly, “Happy birthday, gorgeous.”
“Mmm. Thank you,” you preen. “Best birthday ever.”
This causes Jeongguk to guffaw, laughing under his breath. “Joon enjoyed it too.”
“You’re such a prick, you could have stopped,” you laugh to him, slamming his shoulders gently. Jeongguk grins, shuffling until his ass is on your stomach, straddling with his hands intertwined with yours.
“Yeah,” he agrees, because he could have. “Didn’t feel like it though. Plus, he said you were pretty once. ‘Mnot taking any chances with you.”
You gasp, astounded. “And what if I had thought he was pretty, too?”
“Then I’d cry,” Jeongguk replies simply, considering it a successful quip when you laugh sweetly, your cheek on your shoulder looking up at him like he was God’s angel. He blinks, like he’s processing the information, “thank you for staying. Look, if last night I was fucked up, it’s okay if you’re not cool with that. It can be a lot and I-”
“Jeongguk, I’ll always stay. If you need me, I’ll stay,” you tell him seriously. “I’m here for you, even when it’s difficult. I-” you pause, “I care about you.” It won’t be the last time Jeongguk feels like he has nothing to say to you, and honestly, it’s not the first time either.
Jeongguk looks down at you, his face devoid of a smile now that your words have settled in. When he realises what you’re saying, what that means for him.
“I’m sorry. I’m...a fucking shit show,” Jeongguk says quietly, and he barely moves when you instantly sit up, rising with your palms cupping his face, holding him gently and closely.
“Please don’t say sorry. I’m here, if you need me,” you say to him. “If you want me.”
“I do,” replies Jeongguk. He licks his lips, “of course I do.”
Warmth blossoms in your chest, and it would be easy to kick back, let him keep kissing, stay in the warmth of his bed covers. So suddenly, life feels like it can get better. So suddenly, it feels like everything is going to be okay.
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(LOS ANGELES)
Things begin to change quite suddenly.
In the moment, you hardly realise how fast paced life is moving for you, too caught up in the moment, in the thrill of what has become of your life after the show at the Hollywood Palladium. For some reason, you didn’t expect to be an addition to Jeongguk’s life after the party, especially considering August Blue still had several other shows and cities to perform in, meaning the likelihood of seeing him decreased.
He had surprised you, though, by making a considerable effort to frequent DBOY whenever he could before he left for Jersey, alongside the rather spontaneous decision to take you for dinner after your shift, ending with a bang and a kiss and your mother peeking from behind a curtain inside the house when Jeongguk pulled up to drop you home instead of your own flat afterwards. 
As far as you knew, nothing with Jeongguk had especially changed; judging off the lingering smell of nicotine and alcohol when he turned up to get you, and pictures of dark lights and white tables on his private accounts, which only made it harder to say goodbye to him.
There had been a change in pace between Jeongguk and yourself, an establishment of feelings discussed over that afternoon dinner looking out at the ocean. It had been unexpected and impulsive, you still dressed in your lackluster University outfit and Jeongguk in attire that he put on when he woke up in the morning, but everything seemed to feel right.
It hadn’t been much, nothing but him setting the record straight that he wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he wanted to do it- if you would have it, he’d like to be in your life. There was the bump in the road that was his status, his tours and his unspoken struggle with white lines and drunken nights that could be troublesome. Could turn you off, could make you not want him. You laughed at that like it was the funniest and simultaneously the stupidest thing he’d ever said, and maybe it was.
Across the room, Jimin kicks his feet up onto the coffee table despite countless efforts to get him to stop. Now that the late birthday weekend spent with your family had come to a happy end, you were once again welcomed in your shared flat with Jimin; it’s a measly apartment close to campus with an expensive empty third room that you both use as art storage. Next to him on the couch is the greasy pizza box, his fingers pulling a slice off the cardboard. You stand behind the couch, looking at the back of his head, and then look back at your phone. As always, there’s nothing, no notifications besides an Icloud storage backup failure. You sigh, having expected it.
Jimin looks up when the couch dips in weight as you sit next to him, moving the pizza box to his lap rather than your spot. He has the nerve to appear offended, still shoving a slice in his mouth.
“I’ve picked the movie,” he starts.
“Swear on God, if you’ve picked Orphan again, I’m going to beat your ass.”
“It’s the best horror movie to date, come on!” Jimin argues, making zero effort to change the movie once it’s already started. People who didn’t know Jimin would take a look at him and anticipate him to be an angel, questioning why you would ever be annoyed by such a cute face. This- this is why. 
Regardless, all you give Jimin is an eye-roll and decide to quietly accept the fact that your movie night has, once again, become an ode to Orphan. It’s not a problem- if a movie could define and represent a friendship, Orphan could summarize your relationship with Jimin.
The movie plays as far as Esther pushing her sister into the road when disturbance arises. Jimin is the first to stir, hearing the front door to your apartment crack open and a sheepish Yoongi steps inside, a bag of takeout in his left hand and keys in the right. He is, of course, late as always, and you expect he won’t hear the end of it by the time he’s wedged himself into the room; rightly so, Jimin interrogates him on being late as the front door closes, and right as the sound of arguing fills the room a blaring ring from your phone picks up.
It’s sad to admit that you pick up your phone in lightning speed, peering in the light as Jeongguk’s contact fills the screen. The way seeing his name light up on the screen feels like an urgent release, like finding treasure after searching for so long- you haul yourself up off the couch and head back towards the kitchen as the couple shuffle in. Glancing at them as they collapse in laughter to the couch, you smile and answer the call from Jeongguk that never stops ringing.
“Jeongguk,” you say, once you’ve picked up and heard nothing but murmured party ambience over the line. Something crackles, like the movement of clothes, and Jeongguk hums like he’s in a trance. “Can you hear me?”
“Hi baby,” his voice calls. He laughs, lucid, “Y/N, baby. Hi baby.”
“Hi,” you coo in reply. “Where are you, I can barely hear you…?”
“Party!” laughs Jeongguk. “Wrap up party. ‘so funny, you should come.”
A smile ignites. “I can’t, I’m not in that state. Are you having fun? What are you doing?”
For a moment, Jeongguk doesn’t reply. From the sounds of it, he seems otherwise occupied, for in the background the quiet sound of party laughter and glass clinking reminds you of where he is, what he’s doing, what he’ll end up doing. You swallow thickly.
“It’s okay,” Jeongguk says after some time. “Kinda fun.” He waits one second and then says, “can’t hear you. I’m gonna go outside, don’t hang up.”
“I won’t. I’m not going anywhere.”
Jeongguk moves outside, the party tucked behind as he leans against the brickwork of the rented bar used for the party. There’s a payphone on the wall, dripped in neon lights and he stands next to it, his body chilled by the night, leather on his skin.
“What are you doing?” Jeongguk asks, sniffing. That’s the indicator. Something inside of you sinks thinking about what he’s done, how sad it is that he does it to himself and nobody bats an eye.
You throw a glance back across the room; Jimin is settled in Yoongi’s lap, bringing soft laughter out of your cousin as the still frame of Orphan burns the television screen. “It’s movie night, so Jimin and Yoongi came over.”
“Mm yeah?” Jeongguk says. “Fun, sounds so fun, Yoongi said you lived with Jimin.”
“I do,” you reply gently. “When do you come home?”
“Saturday, maybe,” Jeongguk estimates. “Then I’m gonna come see you. Wanna take you out again, can we go out somewhere, I wanna go out.”
You laugh, tucking yourself into the kitchen when Yoongi and Jimin start laughing too loudly. “Course. Just let me know when, I’ll make room for you.”
For a while, Jeongguk doesn’t say anything interesting. In fact, it’s mostly a string of incoherent and confusing sentences, his pout audible as he speaks and at least he’s not making bad decisions, half the reason you haven’t told him to go back to the party. Maybe you’re in it too deep, maybe you have no right being worried about him like that. If his band members didn’t seem to be too worried, and they’ve clearly known him longer, then why should you be so concerned?
“Called you for a reason, you know,” Jeongguk says, after a short breath of silence.
You raise your eyebrows and lean against the doorframe, pulling at your bottom lip with your teeth after asking him why.
Jeongguk sniffs and then drops a deep exhale of breath. “Missed you.” Your heart thuds painfully. “Miss you, miss your voice. You should have come.”
“Maybe next time,” you offer. You’re unsure if telling him that you didn’t come because you don’t know what you are to him is wise at this exact moment, and so you decline to offer him a reason. Not that he asks. “I miss you too. I miss you coming to see me at work, made my day.”
Jeongguk laughs to himself. “I miss it. Coming home on Saturday, can I see you then?”
You pause to think. “Ah...it’s Yoojung’s birthday.” Yoojung is Yoongi’s sister, which Jeongguk remarkably remembers. He frowns, questioning. “There’s a party at her house, I’m obviously going because I’m family.”
“Yoo is a fan of the band, I think,” Jeongguk says. “Maybe I’ll ask Yoonie if I can come, surprise her or something. Wanna see you.”
“You can’t wait an extra day? I think I’m free all day on Sunday,” you offer, but Jeongguk declines.
“Nah. Greedy.”
He sniffs once, curtly and quickly, like inhaling sandpaper. You repress a sigh, not wanting to give away anything that might upset him, and you tuck further into the kitchen to escape the noise of the couple on the couch. It rises in volume, Jimin’s tone calling for you which Jeongguk can surely hear, but clearly cares little for.
“Fair enough,” you reply, smiling. “Are you going to go back in and party?”
For a second, Jeongguk says nothing. Unbeknownst to you, Jeongguk leans against the damp bricks with his chin tucked to his collarbones, gaze hazy and a smile on his lips. The air is cool enough to straighten his head, at least clear his vision from speckles to something clean.
“Just like talking to you,” he mumbles. “I don’t know, I don’t know if I wanna party anymore.”
“Then don’t, baby, it’s okay,” you tell him, trying to avoid eavesdroppers in the living room. “Find Seokjin and leave for the night, hm? Have some rest and then we can see each other when you get back for Saturday, m’kay?”
Jeongguk says nothing, listening in the background to Yoongi and Jimin as they heckle you into living room to finish the movie. He wants to say something, more than anything he has words on his mind, sentences on the tip of his tongue; he doesn’t. His head isn’t clear enough for him to trust himself to speak. So, instead, he takes an inhale of the outside air and glances around at his surroundings, observing the moonlight on the lake nearby and the dark green ferns around the car park.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m gonna go to bed,” he decides to say.
“That’s good. Just let me know when you’re home safe, okay?” you tell him, silencing the duo with a finger to your lips and the couple on the couch suppress giggles of amusement. To them it’s funny. “Okay?”
“Yep. I’ll text,” Jeongguk promises. From behind him, the door to the club opens and you can faintly hear a voice calling him. It’s out of your hands but you hope that it’s Seokjin, or another member of the band. “Miss you.”
You smile, “I miss you too. Get some rest, okay? I’ll see you on Saturday.”
Jeongguk hums. His voice is gone in the wind, too small to speak out.
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(HIDDEN HILLS)
“And, you know, don’t get me wrong- I love parties as much as the next person, believe me, but if you can’t have an Iron Man balloon just because your parents are too damn lazy to go across town to Party City to get me one, then is it really a good party?”
Min Yoojung takes a sip from her glass and practically shrivels with distaste. For some or known reason, she had assumed that when you turned eighteen, life would dramatically change and you’d suddenly enjoy the taste of alcohol. Or, at least, that’s what UK TV shows had told her- mind you, she now knows that’s entirely inaccurate.
“I mean, think about it,” she continues with a huff. “Yoongi gets his own private club hired out for his birthday with the members of KISS playing on stage, and I can’t even get a balloon?”
Yoongi sits directly across from her on the patio sofas, a cigarette between his two fingers and a glass of red wine on the small table. He hides a smirk, feigning absolute disinterest as his sister speaks, waiting until she’s finished and looking between yourself and Jimin for some sort of explanation before he speaks.
“It’s because you’re adopted,” he replies smoothly, which only sets her off more.  
To some extent, what she is saying is not flawed. For Yoongi’s eighteenth birthday, he had gotten everything he wanted, things he brought up in passing wrapped up and gifted to him on the morn of March 9th. And, Yoojung is walking proof that the myth of the baby sibling being the favourite is simply not true. Granted, Yoongi’s only the favourite because he’s semi-famous, whereas Yoojung still attends public school and dines in three star restaurants with allowance money she may as well not have. That’s not to say that her birthday sucks; it doesn’t, because the Min’s have money and standards and this party in the backyard might make a headline in some Indie magazine online. Who knows.
It’s leisurely and small, with only few celebrities in attendance not including the Min’s and their relatives. You’re not entirely unfamiliar with the life of stardom- unfortunately, being the step-daughter of Axel Choi therefore meant having a camera in your face once or twice. Even though Axel was no relative of yours, and by no means did he ever have the audacity to assume he could fill the role of your Dad: Axel was an okay guy, protective of his family and by extension, protective of you. You didn’t mind, just one less camera to hide from, one less ugly photograph uploaded online for a bit of money. 
That being said, Axel pulled a few strings and got a few A-Listers to show up, including a KPOP group that Yoojung had liked when she felt like an alien in her own country. Amongst those are some of Yoojung’s friends, who fear sitting near Yoongi because he’s the hot older brother type, and fearful of you who they don’t know, which isn’t any less scary from them knowing you.
“You haven’t done the cake yet, right?”
From behind Yoongi, out comes Wheein, one of his old friends from University. She carefully climbs over the seat to sit next to Jimin, mindful of her glass that sloshes and Yoojung sighs, pressing her chin into the heel of her hand.
“Nope. Yoongi says people haven’t turned up yet, so I don’t know what’s up with that,” Yoojung shrugs. “Honestly-” now she rises slightly, her back straight and finger pointed accusingly, “you fucking planned my whole party. Is this the Yoongi and Co show, or what?”
“Yes,” Yoongi replies, as though it were obvious. He drinks. “Stop complaining and wait, it’ll be worth it.”
Yoojung scoffs, “Yeah right. If Tony Stark doesn’t come to this house dressed in his suit making that suity noise, then consider this birthday over.”
Yoongi pauses. “Okay then, I guess I’ll start sending people back home, because you can’t even get an Iron Man balloon, what makes you think he’s gonna pop round in person?”
Yoojung shrugs, “Poetic cinema?”
“Keep dreaming, cabbage patch baby.”
“Cabbage patch baby?” Jimin laughs. That’s when Yoongi ignores Yoojung’s frustrated groans and launches into an explanation behind the name, which involves Yoongi telling Yoojung when she was little that their Mom found her in a cabbage patch. You’ve heard it before, so you’re not listening when it’s explained. Your gaze instead lifts across the patio, awkwardly catching your mother’s as she looks around for you. 
Her eyes light up when she spots you and immediately she waves you over, not taking no for an answer as those round holes turn into slits faster than you can even mouth the syllable “n”. While Yoongi dives deeper into Yoojung’s misery, you pick yourself up with a sigh and head on over towards your mother.
She stands next to Axel, as well as Yoongi’s parents, and two celebrities you vaguely remember for being present at Yoongi’s birthday many moons ago. You fake a smile, wanting to be polite, wanting it to be over. It seems your arrival had been pre-planned and expected, for your aunt turns to you with wide eyes and brings you by the elbow.
“Y/N. We were just talking about you- you know Maxine, don’t you?”
No. You regard the stranger, subtly looking them up and down and smiling tightly. “Of course! It’s so nice to see you.”
“We were just talking about the arts- classical, of course, because we all know how you turn up your nose at the modern artists of today,” your Aunt says.
“Well, I do like modern art, I just find classicals more interesting to study. More composition, colour, texture...more empathy.”
“Whatever,” your Aunt interrupts. “Maxine has a son who works in the Louvre. He’s looking for junior guides, people to talk arty to visitors and make everything sound nice.”
Maxine smiles to intervene. “Actually, he’s not high enough in the business to request people, but I do know that he’s got an eye for women who like the arts. Miyoung told me that you study it at University level.”
You nod, bored. “Yes, I do. I’m not sure I want to move to Paris for a job, though...so…”
“Oh, no,” Maxine laughs. As she does this, one of Yoongi’s other friends, Jaehyung, creeps up behind you and quietly says hello to your mother and to Axel, half listening when Maxine says, “Duke is actually on pursuit for somebody who can match his artistic background.”
This, of course, makes Jaehyung laugh suddenly. He takes a slice of cake off a nearby tray and takes a bite, moving to walk away as he says, “Y/N doesn’t need help in the dating department, I don’t think.”
You glare at him.
“What does that mean?” your mother asks. “Do you have somebody?”
“No, Mom. Nobody.”
“Sure she does,” Jaehyung winks. “Was all over Instagram.”
“That’s a lie,” you gape.
“Is it?” he shrugs. Is it?
Aunt Miyoung gasps like she’s heard an offensive secret, touching her collarbone as she looks between Jaehyung and yourself. Jaehyung grins, saying nothing and running back to Yoongi before you can slander him. You’re in for it now.
“The boy that dropped you home?” your mother presses.
“You knew about this?” Miyoung asks. “Maxine, I am deeply sorry- I feel foolish.”
“I-Yes,” you tell her finally. Jeongguk, the man in question, might not be what everybody now thinks he is, might not even be what you think he is. “It hasn’t been long, so I didn’t want to get my hopes up.”
“And he’s famous?” Axel asks.
You look at him. “Yeah. I guess. You wouldn’t believe he was, but he is.”
Axel raises his eyebrows, by now not in the least surprised by the bitterness in your tone that has been there since your mother first introduced him. He’d probably be more surprised if you didn’t talk to him like that. Regardless, Axel takes it with acquiesce, glancing at your mother for some sort of guidance that she can’t and won’t give to him. It is in this moment that the back gate that leads to a leaky trail next to the spacious garage and past Holly’s doghouse opens, like arms inviting a hug.
The gate needs oiling, screeching to gain attention as it opens and in steps pairs of booted feet. The selection of pauses, gasps and an excited murmur from Yoojung’s friendship group out over by the poolside paints the picture for you, and you don’t feel the need to turn around. Noise alone confirms that the person who opened the gate is the same man in topic of conversation, his eyes dancing around the yard until they land on Yoongi’s father, acknowledgingly and then finally onto Yoojung, who he happens to notice quickly than he does the back of your head.
“Speak of the devil,” your mother starts, recognising him.
Axel hesitates visibly and audibly. “That man. That’s him?”
You purse your lips, taking a peek over your shoulder at Jeongguk. He speaks for himself; his muscles cling underneath a white tee and leather jacket that feels overdressed, paired with faded black jeans decorated with gashes and two zips. Axel only frowns because he’s not dressed like a prep, or a future Doctor like he would have liked for you, hypocrisy. Not even dressed ‘normal’ like boys he sees on the covers of magazines belonging to your step-sister, his own blood, his actual daughter. Jeongguk is dressed for attention, his gaze high over his glasses that you’re unaware he owned.
“It might be,” you reply quietly, and it’s telling enough that Axel sighs, folding his arms.
“Not that it’s any of your business,” Miyoung says quickly. “You should have just told us it was Jeongguk.”
“You know him?” asks Axel.
Miyoung nods, sipping her wine. “Sure. He’s been friends with Yoongi for a few years now- we actually cleared him to visit for Yoo’s birthday.” Finally she acknowledges you: “Handsome boy, Y/N. How did you find him? Yoongi?”
“More like he found me,” you muse. “I tried to remain professional, but he kept coming back to visit me at work.”
“Romantic,” your mother sighs honestly.
Yoongi’s father laughs. “Jeongguk has a type.”
You stare at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs. “The last time he had a girl on his arm he bed her and got rid of her. Funny, actually, you two had the same hair.”
“Hair isn’t a type,” Miyoung snaps.
“I’m just saying,” he continues, shrugging again. “Don’t get your hopes up, honey.”
“So, he’s a player?” Axel grunts.
“No,” you defend quickly. “No. Well- yes, he was. People change when they’ve found the right person to change for.”
Axel chuckles wryly. “And you think you’re the one to change him?”
“Not change him, but I’ll be there for him whenever he needs me,” you nod. “I trust him.”
“I can feel my ears burning.”
Jeongguk’s voice creeps over your shoulder before you can even notice that he has made his way over towards you; the feeling of his chin rested just above your ear makes your body pause and he wraps one arm around you, observing everybody in the huddle. The Min’s consider Jeongguk secondary family, welcoming him with a smile that Axel doesn’t reciprocate, not that Jeongguk gives a shit. For Jeongguk, this is monumentous, the time for him to prove himself to the guy who didn’t believe in him.
Actually, he’s surprised to find that the feeling of worship he felt for Axel as a teenager is still there, now that he’s standing right in front of him. It’s strange, subdued and numbing, but still there and pressing. Jeongguk tries to look anywhere but at Axel, but he can’t help it. Axel doesn’t even remember him, and has the audacity to stare at Jeongguk like it’s his first time, first impression of the guy dating one of his daughters.
Jeongguk pauses his thoughts and thinks back to you- are you dating? Wouldn’t hurt to lie, just to piss of Axel even more. Jeongguk wasn’t an exceptionally smart guy but he wasn’t stupid; it was evident that Axel didn’t like him, obvious from the ugly grimace on his face. He doesn’t care- Jeongguk relishes in his dislike. That gives him power, now.
“Jeongguk,” says Miyoung, smiling wide.
Beside her, your Uncle sips his drink, silent and occasionally glancing between Jeongguk and Axel. Maybe everybody disliked Axel, Jeongguk thinks to himself, as he stares at the pulled crease between your Uncle’s eyebrows. He knows vaguely that you’re related to the Min’s through your mother, and that they, unlike your mother, never got over the death of your Dad. Maybe they too can’t stand the sight of Axel, bragging and sour-faced, acting like a member of the family when in reality, all he is is an imposter, a wolf in sheeps’ clothing, awkward and looking misplaced.
Jeongguk smiles back at Miyoung. “Hi, it’s good to see you. Thanks for having me.”
“Our pleasure,” Miyoung replies. “You’re a punk, y’know- dating our Y/N. None of us had any clue! Why hide such a beauty?”
Jeongguk grins. His arm wrapped around you tightens gently. “Sorry. We didn’t want to rush into making anything public…” He trails off, looking at you. “Get nervous and tell people?”
“Actually, you have Jaehyung to thank for that,” your mother pipes up with a sigh. For the first time, Jeongguk looks at her entirely. She looks nothing like you, too done up with surgery and makeup for him to see a resemblance. Maybe you looked like her before, maybe you favoured your Dad. “I’m Jennifer, Jenny, by the way. It’s lovely to meet you.”
Jeongguk smiles constantly, accepting her tight hug as she welcomes him. “Jeongguk.”
“Y/N doesn’t talk about you,” she says.
“In fairness, I don’t talk about anything,” you add, but she’s not listening. Jeongguk is, though, and his heart tugs. He’s got the situation kind of figured out.
“I don’t blame her,” Jeongguk replies smoothly. “We weren’t sure it was time to make things official- it’s new.”
“And it’s serious?” Axel asks, speaking for the first time.
Jeongguk watches him. “Yes, sir.”
Axel bristles. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. I’m Axel, I’m Y/N’s father.”
“Step father,” you cut in.
“Father,” he repeats. Axel extends a hand outwards for Jeongguk to shake. Even though he hesitates, Jeongguk accepts, firmly shaking it. It’s a good handshake, Axel ought to be impressed. What doesn’t sit right is Axel calling himself your father- something he’s never been given the right to say.
“We actually have met before,” Jeongguk says, and around his arm he feels you tighten, briefly glancing up at him.
All eyes in the huddle are on Axel, including the long forgotten Maxine who watches quietly. “Did we? I don’t remember you.”
“Well, it was a long time ago,” Jeongguk explains with a flat tone. “We were in Busan. You came into my work and bought some cigarettes, I had your opinion on some of my work.”
While Axel thinks about it, your mother gasps happily, clueless and embracing her hands. “Oh, that’s wonderful. Honey, it’s great that you helped this young man.”
Unknowingly, the Min’s writhe on their spots. They know this story. They know the truth- maybe that’s why they dislike Axel the way everybody else does.
“Did I?”
“Yeah,” Jeongguk continues, with the same flat tone that makes you shudder. “Yeah. You told me our music was shit and that I’d never make it in the business because I was a Korean boy from Busan with dreams I couldn’t reach. You told me we’d never succeed and that we’d be stuck in Busan flipping burgers and working night shifts at 7-11, and that the only way I’d succeed was if I was American. Dunno if you remember that, but I did.”
Nobody says anything. Not even Axel, who stares coldly.
“Well, we made it,” Jeongguk laughs quietly. “I took your advice and it really helped motivate me to prove you wrong. We’re number one on Billboard and we’re making history as the first all Korean band to top the charts and headline The Governors Ball next year. Not bad for a basement boy from Busan, right?”
Your mother gulps. “That’s really wonderful, Jeongguk, you should be really proud.”
Jeongguk pities her. “Thank-you. We worked hard for it. Now we’re here.”
“And I suppose it will do Y/N some good, being with somebody so successful.” For the first time since Jeongguk’s arrival, Maxine speaks up. She cradles her champagne glass tenderly and examines Jeongguk with her slinted fox-like eyes, as if nursing a different agenda.
“Thank you,” repeats Jeongguk. He tightens his arm around you, obviously enough to create a statement. While it’s mostly to prove to everybody- and himself- that you and him are an item, it’s also to rub extra salt into Axel’s wounds, his face like he’s sucking on a lemon. “Y/N helps keep me driven a lot. I owe her so much already, I’ll make her happy and do her proud. Thanks to Y/N, I don’t think I could be here. I’m here because she suggested it, actually, for Yoojungie.”
“And a good job, too,” Miyoung finally says, trying to avert the tensions. “Else Yoojung would be miserable at her own birthday party.” And everyone laughs, apart from Axel, not that anybody cares. “Jeongguk, shall we start the music up?”
Jeongguk nods. “I’d love to. Thanks, Mom.”
She smiles, walking away to prep. Feeling Axel’s stare cold on your skin, you gently push yourself into Jeongguk, until he’s walking backwards towards the selection of trees where you turn in his arms, looking up at him. Jeongguk smiles honestly for the first time, his heart thumping.
“Hi,” he says gently.
“Well, you know how to make an entrance,” you note thoughtfully. Jeongguk’s eyes rake your own, wordless. “Be careful how you act around Axel. He’s strangely protective.”
“I thought he wasn’t family.”
You frown. “He’s not. But he’s still… you know. Part of the family.”
Jeongguk says nothing at first. “I get it. I do,” he assures with a nod. The next moment, he has his hands on your upper-arms, smoothing. “It’s good to see you, by the way. You look beautiful.”
A smile crosses your face. “It’s good to see you, too. Missed you.”
“I missed you too, we just got off the plane this morning,” Jeongguk explains. Took a nap on the way home and then got dressed and we came straight here.” He pauses playfully: “Do I look okay?”
You laugh girlishly, catching his elbows with your fingers. “You look great. Who knew you wore glasses?”
Jeongguk grins. “They’re fake, I’m a fraud.”
“Of course,” you joke. “Like all rockstars.”
“Hey, don’t bring in my fellow rockers!” Jeongguk laughs too, an unusual sound. “As much as I wanna stand around and stare at you, I need to go and say hi to Yoojung and perform and stuff. It’s kinda why I’m here…”
“LOL,” you say. “You don’t have to explain yourself, Guk. Go, I’ll survive.”
“Okay,” he resists. “But I’ll come back later, yeah? Can’t ignore my girlfriend.” Jeongguk raises his eyebrows mischievously and then, rustles in his pocket whilst speaking, “Oh, wait. Happy-” he checks the time and shows his phone screen to you as he steps backwards, “-ten minute anniversary, babe.”
As Jeongguk steps away, dragging his fingertips along your palms as he steps backwards towards the curved pathway around the pool, a warm feeling simmers in your stomach. Maybe it’s the sunlight shining gold across his skin or the way his smile finally reaches his nostrils, extending wide, his eyes folded into moons- but something about the whole ordeal seems safe, seems gorgeous and heavenly, at the same time domestic. He winks, turns and heads towards the rest of August Blue sheltered around Yoojung and Yoongi, and you’re left with the imprinted image of Jeongguk’s smile on the spot of grass he just stood on, burning, refusing to leave.
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[23:39PM] Jeongguk❣️: so i don’t think ur family like me…. [23:39PM] Jeongguk❣️: am i out of the picture now?
The sound of your phone fills the room and pulls you out of the bathroom, which connects to your family bedroom back in the house your family live at currently. Yoojung’s party had ended hours earlier, the grand finale with Jeongguk helping bring out her cake, fireworks on the evening, a hand on your waist.
Rubbing at your wet hair, you sit on the bed and reach for your phone, glossing over the messages, smiling.
[23:40PM] You: hey now [23:40PM] You: i don’t think my family like me either [23:41PM] Jeongguk❣️: wanna run away and be my family? [23:42PM] Y/N: where are we running to? [23:42PM] Jeongguk❣️: idk yet [23:42PM] Jeongguk❣️: somewhere nice [23:43PM] Jeongguk❣️: far away [23:43] You: omg yes [23:44PM] You: kinda wanting to go to hawaii...what are your thoughts on hawaii, gukkie? [23:45PM] Jeongguk❣️: hawaii on a first date? imagine that….. [23:45PM] Jeongguk❣️: u DO dream big [23:45PM] You: i tried [23:46PM] Jeongguk❣️: it’s not exactly hawaii [23:47PM] Jeongguk❣️: but how about a late night rendezvous at olive garden
(At the same time…)
[23:47PM] Jeongguk❣️: omg … as if i just spelt that word right [23:47PM] You: autocorrect, u cant fool me [23:47PM] You: and omg sure…..,,,,,, [23:48PM] You: something tells me ur already here and thats why you’re asking
(A honk outside your window.)
[23:49PM] Jeongguk❣️: 🤪 [23:49PM] You: my hairs wet 🥺 [23:50PM] Jeongguk❣️: i’ll roll down the windows?
(A sigh.)
[23:50PM] You: pls give me five minutes
Jeongguk had been parked up outside, his car hidden half in the shadows by a flickering streetlight, inconspicuous and with the inside lights on. It had taken all but three minutes to find his car, and another three for you to warm up to talking to him inside the car. Slipping into the passenger seat with the sound of Magnetic Moon on the AUX and the shining smile from Jeongguk had been nerve-wracking, perhaps nerve-wracking is even an understatement. Nonetheless, the song had rolled to an end and just before Tiffany could transition into the smooth vocals of Lana, Jeongguk said his first few words beyond “hi”.
Olive Garden was a few miles away from your neighbourhood- small and pushed to the side with a selection of palm trees scattered outside, like a postcard for Malibu. Like most, if not all American’s, you’ve been here before, already have a go-to on the menu. Jeongguk drives into a parking bay near the shrubs and opens the doors for you, pulls out chairs, goes the extra mile ordering wine in advance in a private section of the restaurant that you didn’t know existed. You’ve only ever been here with Yoongi and Yoojung, two celebrities who sometimes have the luxury of leaving the house and not getting immediately noticed.
“What do you wanna do after?”
Jeongguk, halfway through cutting his sirloin steak, glances up with an honestly surprised expression. “You still want to hang out after?”
You shrug, taking a sip of the wine. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because our first date since I got back from tour is at fucking Olive Garden,” Jeongguk states.
“I like Olive Garden…” you mumble, which he hears.
After swallowing a large mouthful, he sends it down with a gulp of wine. “Well, I’m not gonna complain. Shall we go for a drive? You ever been to the beach at night?”
“I live in LA, who hasn’t been to the beach at night?”
“Okay, true,” he replies. “I used to do it all the time in Busan, too. Lived right across the road, could see the sands from my front porch.”
Once dinner is over, and once Jeongguk has quite finished coercing you into sharing an ice-cream sundae with him, Jeongguk takes you up on the invitation to drive to the beach, the night sky like looking into the eyeball of a stuffed animal, the stars like specks of dust on an Afterlight edit. The boulevard is lit up by circular bulbs, tiny attractions for moths, bright like close up stars. Jeongguk drives smoothly, the window slightly down and occasionally his eyes glanced over at you; your hair is messed in the wind, the sound of Kim Petra on the AUX sending your body into little bops, something Jeongguk wants to remember for the rest of his life.
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“So much for letting my hair dry.”
Jeongguk laughs from the back of the car, closing the boot and bringing out some spare towels to hand over to you. They’re yellow, like fresh little buttercups, and slightly wrinkled, smelling like faint juice and sea-salt. Regardless, you take the towel off him and begin to quickly rub it against your hair, once again trying to even out the wetness, less than the shower back home, enough to still drip on your arms and legs.
“You splashed me first,” Jeongguk replies, standing outside the door whereas you sit with your legs hanging out, sideways on the backseat. Behind him is the beach, dark and the sound of the ocean lapping like television static, the faint sound of the amusement arcade down the prom. His body is wet too, the ankles of his jeans clinging to his skin with ocean water.
You turn your head to him, smiling. “Guilty.” When he laughs, you continue to speak and bring the towel back down to your lap, “Okay, it’s what they all do in the movies. What else are you supposed to do on a beach at like...midnight. Wait, what time is it?”
“I dunno, like, three?” he guesses.
“No way.”
“Feels like three. Check the front.”
You lean over to check. “It’s definitely not three.”
Jeongguk shrugs boyishly, that same grin creating dimples near his chin. “Not far off. It was a guess.”
“Good for a guess,” you assure. Jeongguk wrangles the towel from your hands politely, wringing it out and throwing it back into the boot. Your hair can dry again in the wind when Jeongguk drives away, the same way it did when he picked you up. He has this theory on his mind as he walks back around to the open door, although the words leave him when he returns, having found that he has nothing at all to say now it’s come down to it.
Jeongguk moves back in, his body shoved between your legs slightly as he moves closer. You gaze up at him, the light behind him making his body glow dark, sighs like whispers in the quiet ambience.
“I really had a lot of fun tonight,” Jeongguk says, like it’s a secret. “Even though this morning your family almost had a heart attack discovering that we were, well, whatever we are...I still had fun.”
You hum in agreement, watching his face as it moves into the light. “Yoojung had the best time. I haven’t seen her that happy since she met Paul Rudd at Disneyland, and that’s seriously impressive.”
Jeongguk laughs quietly. “Paul Rudd.” He almost can’t believe that.
“As for us,” you continue, stress on the ‘us’ which brings Jeongguk’s attention full circle and back entirely onto you in the backseat of his ride, “well...what are we?”
For a few moments, Jeongguk doesn’t say anything. “I have the fantasy and the reality.”
You nod, encouraging, and so he continues. “The fantasy is that we give it a go. We try it, really try. Y/N, with every small inch of my delicate, precious body-” (giggles are delivered by you as he speaks)- “I absolutely adore you. And I never knew I could feel like how I feel with you. I only ever wanted the sex, and even then, I didn’t want it that badly, and then you wandered into my life and everything feels so...so...I don’t even know a word. I just know it feels amazing when I’m with you- I feel amazing. And, of course, the reality is that we’re two sad early twenties rich kids who are pining and don’t know what to do about it.”
And it’s true, it’s so true. The sad reality of it all was that unless either one of you stepped up first, this dynamic of uncertainty would continue on as the norm. Where you were too shy to be bold and make a move, Jeongguk felt too insecure to step up.
“Well, then…” you start, chewing the inside of your cheek, thinking. “How about we try making the fantasy our reality?”
Nothing.
Jeongguk blinks and cocks his head in bewilderment. “Really?” You nod. “You want to?”
“If I didn’t want to, why the hell would I leave my house with wet hair to go eat at Olive Garden and lovingly stroll on a beach at midnight?”
Jeongguk’s eyebrows raise in amusement. “Oh, so it was loving?”
“I was definitely feeling some kind of way,” you confirm.
At long last, Jeongguk smiles wide, shuffling closer. His hands wrap around your face gently, like holding a delicate bird in two palms, and his fingers brush against your ears, tickling the skin, nails fingering your hair.
“That’s good to hear,” he replies, “Great, actually.”
“Yeah?”
Now, Jeongguk hums, his trademark reply for when his eyes are too lost for words to be conjured up to describe how he feels about what he sees. He is, what one might recall to be as “lost for words”. His teeth clip at his bottom lip as he questions what he’ll do next, and for a brief moment you catch his tongue darting out in nervousness as he leans closer, smell of mint on his breath as his lips touch yours, and the heavens open.
Metaphorically and literally, so. As Jeongguk brings you closer to him, his lips still pressed on yours, his heart elevates into subspace, his body light and euphoric. At the same time, the sky grumbles, hungry, and it begins to pour, tiny droplets on the roof of the car and on Jeongguk’s back. He winces, doesn’t pull away, and quickly separates himself from you to squint at the sky.
He sees nothing, because it’s way too dark, but he feels it. Sighing briefly, Jeongguk turns back to you and nods his head upwards, miming for you to shuffle backwards into the car. A rush of something hot creeps down the middle of your body as you do so, feeling Jeongguk’s hand on your calf as he climbs in after you, his ankle caught on the door bringing it to a close, but not fully. The red alarm light is bright and begging for attention but Jeongguk pays it no mind.
Instead, he crawls back to you, eager to pick up what he left. It’s welcomed, warm and inviting, as Jeongguk holds you back closer to him and returns the kiss, hot and open mouthed. Something clicks inside of you, a moment of realisation as Jeongguk sets himself over you, his thighs like a cage and his hair tickling your eyebrows. When this feeling simmers, you grin, something Jeongguk is only mildly surprised about. He doesn’t ask questions, he doesn’t really need to.
In fact, Jeongguk doesn’t really say anything at all; he doesn’t need to, and he actually can’t, given the volume of the rain now it comes down heavier. It’s so loud, almost deafening, which you almost thank out loud for. The rain at least covers up your breathy moans as Jeongguk’s hands wander, pulling at the bottom of your dress and fisting it into a ball, the fabric rising higher.
When Jeongguk finally pulls himself away, it is selfish. He pulls back and sits down, in the middle seat so there’s a window view from every angle, his feet in either footwell. Jeongguk shakes his head and hair out of the way, his hands making their way back to you to bring you up and over into his lap. This time, Jeongguk accepts a kiss from you, his cheeks cupped almost by your hands which gives his hands free reign to smooth across your body, swiftly lifting the bottom half of your dress up, wrapping it like a belt across your hips. If the rain were silent, he’d like to have heard you, heard the way you whimper as the bulk in Jeongguk’s jogging bottoms brushes against your pussy, the fabric of your underwear making it hypersensitive and ten times more exciting.
Jeongguk’s lips widen, his mouth open and inviting for you, accepting tongue when you bring your lips back to his after a short break. His eyes flutter and roll backwards, the tickle of your breath through your nose on his skin as he holds you closer, as if you can get any closer than what you already are. Then, when you quite suddenly bite down onto Jeongguk’s tongue and lips, he groans, pleasured, his hands moving beneath your skirt to grab your ass, lifting you up and down on his very attentive boner.
If Jeongguk or yourself ever thought that the first time you’d have sex would be near the public beach in the back of his car in the middle of a very thunderous rainstorm, you might have laughed, or said there would be more to it. In actual fact, it’s just how it is- Jeongguk shimmies himself out of his bottoms soon enough, reaching into the back side of the car to pull out a condom, since he always has some in case of emergencies, like most guys do. He’d like to not use one, but he knows it’s not safe- he doesn’t know if he’s got something, or if you’ve got something. Either way, he rolls it onto his dick in a record speed and sinks you down onto him all within the same ten seconds, and, yeah- it’s not what he expected to happen, it’s not what anybody expects to happen, but it feels right, feels great. When he’s fucking somebody as good and as lovely as you, he’s not allowed to be picky on the location.
He can’t allow himself to be picky- he knows that he’s wanted you ever since he saw you swirling to Dancer in the Dark, he knows that things are meant to be how they play out. Actually, he doesn’t mind it. He likes the risk of someone seeing, likes the way the windows fog up and how the car rocks slightly, obvious to people outside. Jeongguk relishes in that excitement, crossed with the pleasure and arousal coursing through his body when his attention is pulled out of hit thoughts and back onto you. The rain quietens down and he hears you, feels his hands grip tighter around you and his guided pace quicken, all with a breathy high tone in his ear, occasional breaches of rain and roars of thunder, an orchestral accompanying each of you through the sex, until gushing sounds of rain are what he hears when he sees white in his eyes and over his dick, a melting handprint in the condensation on the window.
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[02:34AM] You: def just heard something on my balcony so if i die, pls tell yoongi that it was ME who lost his left airpod and it was also me who stole his signed Nirvana album it’s on my shelf im sorry [02:35AM] Jimin 🦶🏽: um  [02:35AM] Jimin 🦶🏽: wtf….. [02:35AM] Jimin 🦶🏽: u really just gonna die and not leave anything for me???? [02:36AM] You: SSKSSKKSKSKSK [02:36AM] You: u can have my bank account details + contents [02:36AM] Jimin 🦶🏽: !!!!!!!! [02:37AM] Jimin 🦶🏽: omg rip y/n <3 u will be missed omg…..omg cant believe ur dead
All jokes aside, you stare for a long time at your balcony doors, going insane at the sight of nothing at all through the glass and your curtains, slightly see-through to allow the sun in the mornings.
The night burns on your eyes, flashing swirls of colour taking over as you stare for too long at seemingly nothing at all. Quite possibly, it is the wind, or an animal that has climbed onto the balcony from out of one of the trees. It’s happened before- one time, a family of raccoons migrated onto your balcony during the September months of last year, and stayed there for so long that you forgot your balcony had doors. Those same doors are locked, like they always are on a nighttime, but the bedroom window remains open, slightly pushed out to allow in a breeze to circulate the room.
Knowing that it’s probably nothing, you settle back down into bed, drifting back into sleep remarkably fast for somebody previously quite concerned with being killed. This fact is startling- not just to you, but also to Jeongguk, who cocks a leg over your balcony rail and then through your window. What also shocks him was how easy it was to do all of this, now that he’s standing in your bedroom with nothing to say given the fact that you’ve fallen back to sleep.
Jeongguk sighs softly. It’s been about a week and a half since the beach, and the car, and the rain and the first time, but it feels like it’s been months. Jeongguk had to leave for a few days, three at the most, to film some puppy interview for Buzzfeed and continue other solo interviews while the rest of the band settled for a break in their LA residence. Every moment away felt like agony, so painful that Jeongguk found himself back outside your house, surprises stored in emails on his phone.
He steps quietly over towards your bed, wincing when his weight on top of the comforter causes a loud rustle and squeak. Still, you don’t wake, not until Jeongguk lays himself over you with his hands near your shoulders, his voice quiet and murmuring your name, hair tickling your face, lips on skin.
“Wha-Jeongguk?” you ask quietly, your voice groggy. “How’d you get in here…?”
“I think you need security, urgently,” Jeongguk replies quietly. When you roll over onto your back, he smiles gently and wraps hair from out of your face around your ear. “And you need to start locking your windows. You make a robbery look very easy.”
You sigh. “Oh. I thought it was okay.”
“Just be glad your intruder is me and not somebody else,” he says caringly. “Sorry I woke you.”
“No,” you say, rubbing your eyes. “I was awake...and then I closed my eyes for a bit. Hey, was that you out on the balcony?”
Jeongguk grins. “Knew you saw me.”
“I didn’t. Well, I did, but I thought I was being overly paranoid,” you tell him. You yawn away from him, “What time is it, babe?”
Jeongguk purposefully ignores the feeling in his chest. “It’s two fourty.”
You groan. “Are you stopping the night? Get in, I’m tired.”
Jeongguk brings himself down to kiss you once. “No. No, no, you can’t sleep right now. I wanna go out.”
“Now?” you ask, aghast.
“Yeah. Let’s go somewhere.”
“At like three-am?”
“Yeah, sorry, it was the only time I could get it. I wanna take you somewhere special.”
Once Jeongguk is finished speaking, you open your eyes wider and observe him. It’s only then that you notice his clothing; over his upper body, he wears a large oversized grey hoodie, slightly worn out and wrinkled with the drawstring missing, and as always, dark jeans that blend in with the night. A frown worms its way onto your face, your expression unreadable to Jeongguk’s eyes.
“Get it? Get what, babe?” you mutter.
Jeongguk hums, like shrugging.
“Where are we going?” you ask, starting to sit up which forces Jeongguk to roll over on the bed, until his feet swing over the side and hit the floor. He wants to stay quiet for the sake of yourself, considering he’s not looking forward to accidentally waking up your family. You’ve been staying at your parents' place for the entire week, abusing reading week for sleeping in, going out for something to eat, and returning home to watch Glee rather than finish your art assignments. Naturally, Jeongguk doesn’t want the whole family to reject him just because he woke them up at three in the morning to collect you from your room.
“Hm,” Jeongguk starts, straining to hear if anything outside your bedroom catches his ear. He faintly hears the sound of claws across the wood, remembering you once mentioning that your family had a dog. “How about we go to Paris?”
You whip around to look at him, making out his silhouette in the dark. “Paris? Are you fucking with me?”
“Why, what’s wrong with Paris?”
“There is nothing wrong with Paris,” you affirm, gasping. “I just...really? Paris?”
“Yeah. Thought we could stop by The Louvre to see that dude Maxine tried to set you up with.”
You snort quietly, moving to turn on a lamp which brightens the room into shades of orange. “How did you even know about that?”
“I hear things,” he says, shrugging. Jeongguk then shakes his head and looks back at you, making his way to the bottom of the bed. “No. I just really wanna take you out somewhere special.”
“The beach was special to me,” you tell him.
Jeongguk smiles, “Me, too. But...Paris.”
Laughter bubbles at the back of your throat. “Okay. Let’s go to Paris. Why not?”
“Yeah,” Jeongguk agrees, laughing also, “why not? Need help packing anything? You won’t need a lot, I can take you out when we get there.”
You pull a face, looking back at Jeongguk. “Wow...our first vacation together and you’re already going to spoil me?”
Jeongguk grins widely, “Well, on our first date I humped you, so I guess we’re pretty unconventional.”
You have nothing to say in reply to that.
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(PARIS)
One thing you never thought you’d get the chance to do is take a trip on a private jet, holding up the scheduled flight times of other aircraft at the airport. That changes the second that Jeongguk pulls up outside of LAX, his hand carefully and tightly clamped around your own as he escorts you whilst also being escorted by his own small handful of security right into the large building. Thankfully for him, the airport is empty, occupied by sleeping flyers who wait on hard, metal chairs, the tinny sound of music playing at volume three.
His jet is small, yet luxurious; it’s everything out of a movie set, decorated in mocha creams and whites, clinking glasses of champagne waiting to be swallowed. His pilot knows him by name, and there’s a handpicked air hostess who looks bored and old, her lock screen a picture of her children. Jeongguk smiles at her, even addresses her by name and introduces you with a chirpy tone. The lady looks surprised, covering it up with a tight smile of nervousness. Maybe you’re the only girl Jeongguk’s ever brought on the plane before. Maybe you’re another girl he’s brought on the plane, you don’t know for sure.
After take off, Jeongguk spins in his recliner seat and drums his fingers in his lap. You sit opposite, looking meek, your gaze out the window at the dark clouds and sky. As you continue to fly, the sky opens up, into ombre colours that fascinate. One is looking at the beauty of nature and the other is looking at the beauty of a woman. Neither says a word.
When the plane reaches touch down, the airport is quite bustling and energetic, thankfully again no fans who caught an air of mystery from Jeongguk’s suspicious tweets at one in the morning, when he spontaneously booked tickets without even getting the green flag. Money to waste, risks to take, is what he’d say. Jeongguk helps you carry your small bag to the hired vehicle, an inconspicuous black car with black-out windows. He’s half expecting the vehicle to give him away, but nobody present actually gives a fuck about who is in the car and who isn’t. So, he climbs in without being noticed, his hand in yours, right up until the doors close and you’re hotel bound.
“Fuck, jet-lag.”
Jeongguk dives onto the bed, his back on the duvet and nose tipped up to the ceiling. Presently, you’ve been in Paris for a few hours, staring at the roads below with tired and sleepy eyes, heavy shoulders, a day indoors. Jeongguk’s been to Paris before, quite a few times actually - you haven’t, seeing the city in glimpses outside your balcony. To his right, the bathroom light clicks off and you shuffle out, a towel wrapped around your body as you cross the width of the room.
“Right?” you agree with a small frown. You crouch to pick up a fallen jacket off the back of the chair, tucked underneath the white vanity. “I almost fell asleep in the shower.”
“Yeah? You tired?”
“Exhausted,” you say honestly. “Once I’m dry, I think I might head to bed.”
Jeongguk hums in reply, maybe agreement. He lets you do what you need to do; of course, he takes a peek, because he’s a boy and he can’t help himself. You’re dressing by the window, staring out at the pretty Eiffel Tower who shines, lit up for the evening. The room is dark, dressed in midnight tones, the only light outside and the glow of one of the lamps upon the table top. Jeongguk is so wordlessly in awe that he doesn’t care about not being able to see. He sees your silhouette against the light of the city, curved and beautiful, hidden away by a long button up that you picked out of the wrong suitcase, not that he cares. His cheek is pressed against the pillow and he feels his body lifting up off the bed like he’s levitating. God, his chest is so light, it hurts, he wants to scream, he wants to cry, laugh, smile, leap up and yell. You finish buttoning and turn and he returns to the mattress.
The bed dips as you crawl up onto it, your knees by Jeongguk as you sit next to him on the bed. Instantly, Jeongguk’s hands move to your hair to move it away from your face as you look down at him, one hand on your knee also. On command, the smile on his lips widens softly when you brush away his fringes off his face, humming and then reaching down for a kiss, stealing one from his lips without warning and another off the slope of his chin.
“Paris is pretty,” you tell him. Jeongguk hums. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
He shrugs awkwardly. “Sorry it’s not the Maldives, baby.”
“Whatever. Paris is better,” you say. “Our view is gorgeous.”
You look back at the window. Jeongguk does not. “Yeah, it’s beautiful.”
“Must have been expensive as fuck,” you exhale, turning back to him. His hand that was once on your face drops to your back, wandering until it’s found on your ass. It feels nice, you can’t complain.
“Rich kids of LA come to Paris to make noise and take tourist photos by the Eiffel Tower,” Jeongguk replies, joking but sounding serious, which is a talent of his. You laugh, so he knows it’s something you recognise. He laughs too. “It’s actually in Yoongi’s name. Just asked him if I could use it for a weekend away.”
Your brows curve upwards in amusement. “Oh?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m a fraud, it’s not my apartment,” he sighs, “but, at least we’re here. Like it enough, and I’ll buy us a house here.”
“Are we really there yet?”
“Might be,” Jeongguk theorises. “Wanna try it for a bit longer?”
Nothing is said. Outside, a car honks and you sigh at the same time, through your nose, playing with your fingers with Jeongguk’s locks of hair that grow longer over his face. His head hasn’t moved, still squashed against the pillows, his earrings tangled and most likely stuck to strands of his hair, a difficulty for when he decides to move. He feels your hand on his face again, comforting, and he inhales your familiar scent and knows you’ve come closer by the time you’re there, pressing your lips to his.
It’s fleeting, fast. You pull away right as Jeongguk comes to terms with what you’re doing, and so he follows you up as you move away. He’s sitting up, his hands on your elbows as he moves to kiss you again, finish what you started.
A bar door outside opens and music spills out, just as Jeongguk’s hands move from your elbows to your ribcage, his heart in his throat when you reach up to tenderly hold his face, fingers near his ears on his neck. This is euphoria; your hands drop, Jeongguk moving once more to prod and palm. As he kisses you, his thumbs gently massage around your breasts, in circular motions, soft and cradling and exploring. Into his mouth you groan, quietly, like a vocal moan that lasts for a few seconds before being captured by his lips again. Jeongguk’s left hand claws at your boob, grabbing, reaching up to your neck. Now he’s holding you, his hair in his eyes tickling as he guides you. On your cheek, you feel his thumb grazing, holding you close to him even when you pull apart for a modicum of a second to capture your breath. Quite possibly, he could be sick out of nerves - your hands fall limply to his wrists, then down as his hands hold the damp back of your head. After a little longer, Jeongguk pulls himself away, his eyes half-lidded and yours closed entirely.
He admires what he’s done and what he sees. Once more, he kisses you, dragging it out until he’s moved away again, simply admiring. You’re far from done, though; you pull him back after catching your breath, your eyes now open and slightly fuzzy. Jeongguk smiles, warmly, gently. You might cry. As his hands drop from your head to the top of your shirt, fiddling with his fingers around the buttons, your lip gets caught between your bottom teeth and Jeongguk’s eyes are drawn to the sight. He might make a comment, might not. He decides not to. Instead, he moves back in and bides his hands time to undo your buttons.
The cool silk of your shirt drops as he undos the buttons, sliding like rainwater down your shoulders and arms, until it pools around your elbows. Thankfully for him, Jeongguk’s only in joggers and a button down, something he can easily slip himself out of. You’re wearing next to nothing, now that the shirt’s out of the question; all that decorates underneath is underwear, which Jeongguk doesn’t care for anyway. His hands paw at the shirt, trying to undo the last button without pulling away but it feels impossible. Frustrated, he huffs and moves away, his gaze locked on the final button above your pantline and he flushes when a laugh leaves your lips, something small and delicate and girly. He twitches.
“You, too,” you say, once the shirt is removed and you’re only in underwear, which is next on Jeongguk’s list of things to remove. He looks up with mild surprise, having the audacity to be confused by what you’re talking about. It is only when your fingers curl around the waist of his joggers that he smiles, like an idiot, and hums charmingly.
“Shuffle back for a minute?” Jeongguk asks, and you do, excited and buzzing when Jeongguk quickly pushes the joggers down his thighs. When they bunch around his ankles he kicks furiously, like a child, grunting - and you’re laughing, giggling like a school-girl, drunk on the residue of his lips. Of course, he smiles too, because happiness is a goddamn drug. He inhales with exasperation, muttering “아이씨” under his breath. He finishes it up with a chuckle, a voiceless laugh out of his throat, and then he kisses you again.
Jeongguk eventually ends up lifting you, one arm flush against your waist and his other hand graciously ripping down your underwear, careless and selfish when he hears the fabric tear. Your eyes widen, having heard it too, but you’re too dazed to mention it. The undies are tossed towards the balcony door and Jeongguk settles you back on his lap, for a brief moment. He kisses you again, pulling himself snug against you and then, he lays you down.
“So pretty,” Jeongguk comments, his hands sliding down your sides.
“You can’t even see me,” you say.
Jeongguk shrugs, shuffling down the bed. His elbows pinch into your thighs, locking his arms over them and his chin is on top of your groin. “Don’t need to. I just know.”
You slightly laugh, finding it endearing. Jeongguk chuckles too, pressing a kiss to your stomach and then his hands push up at your calves. With your legs up into arrow shapes, knees to the sky, Jeongguk kindly peels them apart, planting himself right in between.
“Jeongguk,” you breathe his name. He grins, you can feel his mouth extending against your skin. He doesn’t reply.
Situated between two smooth legs, Jeongguk’s head dips and dives. A groan is rasped out of you, followed by a string of moany exhales as Jeongguk’s tongue lays flat, covering every inch of your pussy further with sucks and nips that make your toes curl. Jeongguk’s not done this to you before. He feels slightly anxious, because he wants it to be good for you. He wraps his arms around your thighs, burrowing his head in.
“Mpmf- Jeongguk,” you gasp, your head hiding in the comforter. Jeongguk’s on his stomach, nonchalant. Jeongguk licks everywhere he can, kitten licks that stretch out into long ones, exploring. Your mouth drops. Jeongguk moves one hand away from your leg, his fingers curling up to your pussy to stretch out your labia, one finger lazily brushing against your clit. Each brush is exciting, teasing, sensitive. He hums. He’s heard you. He wants to hear more.
He doesn’t do more, because Jeongguk doesn’t want you to cum yet. He has his fun, feeling your thighs lock around his head and quiver when his fingers swipe on your nub, his tongue inching into your cunt, driving out sounds from your lips. Jeongguk entertains that for a few more minutes, hard and throbbing by the time you’re begging for him to stop, rather than keep going.
When he pulls away, your legs shake, quivering like being left out in the cold for too long. He lays down flat instead, tapping your body for you to make a move when you’re ready, which doesn’t take long. Soon after, he feels the brush of your wetness against his leg as you haul yourself up and onto him, hovering over his middle, your hands on his chest.
Jeongguk cocks his head thoughtfully. “Want to?”
You bite your lip. “Yeah.”
“Okay.”
Hair falls over your shoulder. “Do you have a condom on you?”
“In my bag, somewhere,” Jeongguk suggests. He glances to the pile of bags near the door, “But it’s so far away. Are you on the pill?”
“No,” you frown. There’s nothing for a minute. “Want to anyway?”
Jeongguk hesitates, “Yeah. Do you?”
“Yeah. I do,” you tell him. Just as you’re about to take his dick in your hand, Jeongguk reaches out to stop you. You look up at him, finding the glimmer in his eyes in the dull light, “what?”
“What if I cum?” Jeongguk asks.
“I’d like you to.”
“What if I cum inside of you?”
A short silence. Jeongguk drums his fingers impatiently against your thigh. “Whatever,” you settle with. His heart trembles when your hand wraps around him. “I’d be a good Mom.”
Jeongguk laughs, then, his other hand joining the other on your waist. “If it happens, I’ll look after both of you. You can be unemployed and pampered if that’s what you want.”
“God, that’s fucking sexy,” you sigh.
He’s kidding, so are you, but the risk is still great. Jeongguk swallows a thick lump down his throat and settles his hands on your hips, embarrassed to be nervous with the build up of you rising up on your knees, planted either side of his waist. A tremor of coldness makes him shudder as your hand touches the base of his dick, hypersensitive without the rubber. For a brief moment, he catches your gaze, slightly hidden away behind fringes of hair that cast over your eyes.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks, nervous and rubbing his hands against your skin.
You dip your head. “Yeah. Are you?”
“Mhm. I just - just want it to be good for you,” he confesses. “Don’t want it to hurt you. Don’t want you to regret it.”
“Well, are you clean? I got tested not too long ago, did it before my last pill. I’m clean.”
Jeongguk shifts. “Did it on tour with Hoseok. He was going because of Rosie and I was going because he suggested it for us. I’m good. That sound alright for you?”
“Yeah,” you nod. “It sounds perfect for me.”
And so it’s perfect for him, too. Jeongguk questions whether this is right, whether he should stop, but right now he can’t think properly. Not when he can feel himself growing rigid in your grasp, the bristle in his body when you slowly rub your clit across the head of his cock, vibrations. He grunts under his breath, his fingers shaking against your hips. Looking up at Jeongguk once more between your hair, catching the pull of his bottom lip in the scarce light and feeling his body rising beneath you, you shake your head over your shoulders and position yourself. And then you sink.
Paris is a gorgeous city, bustling with life. Across the narrow road, where another small apartment sits with a bay window and a balcony decorated with plants, the lights flicker in strobe patterns, neons bleeding into dulls seeping into pastels. A party, a parade, an applause when the size of Jeongguk adjusts inside of you. He can’t hear you, not over the noise of the party that has suddenly birthed in the moonlight hours. Perhaps Jeongguk is thankful for this, and the way it covers up his noises also.
Jeongguk groans inwards when you clench around him, familiar with the way it feels, remembering the unaccustomed sting and burn. After some time to adjust, you relax, making your first movements up and down, testing the waters, building a rhythm. Jeongguk can’t breathe, his mind paused, his breathing lodged in his throat, his lungs singing. You keep it up, the momentum, finding a pattern in the beat of the music in the background; the bass is your routine, each bump a drop onto Jeongguk’s hips, the brush of his head against your inner walls, euphoric.
“Oh my - fuck,” Jeongguk hisses, his voice barely heard. You catch it though, like a faint whisper, the sound burning your face with embarrassment. His grip tightens, nails digging into your skin as his palms slide from your hips to your ass. He holds like handles of a motorbike, guidance.
You’re slouching, hunched over with your hands on Jeongguk’s chest. He feels a pressure, not sure if it’s your hands pushing down or if it’s his own body, forcing down an orgasm he doesn’t want to have too soon. He sees purple behind you, your dark silhouette cast over him like an angel. With every slap against his body made by your ass, Jeongguk groans, grunts, borderline moans. When he strains to hear your gasps of air something in the background masks them, a sabotage.
“Feel good?” Jeongguk asks. His hands move to your wrists.
You whimper, thoughtless.
“Babe, does it feel good?”
“Mhm.” Your head falls to the side, cheek on your shoulder: “Mhm, feels good.” Something moany comes out of your lips, something muffled and whined. Imploring, spoiled. “Fuck, Jeongguk, that feels so good - keep….keep it like that.”
Jeongguk thinks it over, familiarising himself with his own movements. His grip squeezes around your wrist.
“Like that?” He follows with his body slowly thrusting up, like he would move if he were grinding the air, like inching his hips up under the covers to feel his dick on the duvet.
“Yeah,” you breathe. Even though he can’t see that well, you glance down at him: “can you - can you hold my hands?”
Jeongguk feels his stomach sink and rise, flipping, the butterflies. “Sure, baby.”
When you feel Jeongguk’s hands in your own, you hum to yourself, rising with your fingers interlocked. Jeongguk lets you do what you want with them, obliging when you slightly part his arms, hands locked on either side in the air. You sink, and rise, and sink, and rise, and Jeongguk is lost in the stars. Red, orange, blue, magenta- the rainbow appears as your wings, Jeongguk’s eyes trying to adjust in the dark on your face, on your tits, on the bits that are grainy in his vision. He imagines instead, based off memory of the beach, and the rain. When he feels your cunt clench around him again and your hands slip away to fall back behind you, Jeongguk curses into the air and lifts himself up, his arms wrapped around your middle.
“You feel so good,” Jeongguk says, his lips ghosted over yours now that he’s sitting upright. “Mhm? Hear me? Fuck, you feel so fucking good right now-”
You whimper. Jeongguk seals it up, steals it, captures it with his mouth as he kisses you. His hands are all twisted and searching, one between your shoulder blades and the other on your ass, his mind reeling when you put your palms on his cheeks, absolute bliss. It’s loud, or it would be if he could hear over the sound of the music in the apartment over, and Jeongguk picks up pieces in between the basslines, vocals and harmonies stripped apart so he can find your voice underneath. He pulls his mouth away, latching it to your neck, where your mouth is near his ear, right where he wants it. A hot flush runs up his body when he feels your breath on his ear, hears your needy moans and groans, feels your hands clawing at his back.
“Ugh- umf, Guk, I’m - I’m close,” you pant, his reply a bite to your neck. He sinks his teeth in, like a vampire with dull teeth, and you cry out into his ear. His cock twitches inside of you, the ridges of his cock smearing against your walls. He hums, not sure if you’ll hear it. You don’t. He pulls away and mouths the bite.
“Cum when you want to,” he says sweetly, moving his mouth to your ear briefly before moving back away. His hair is soft against your neck, his head angled to kiss at your skin, covered in a glow.
“What about you?” you ask.
Jeongguk smiles, his teeth present on your skin. “Don’t worry about me. I’m right behind you.”
He nuzzles his face into your neck, his eyes closed serenely as he holds you tight, holds you as you bounce up and down for the finale. Above him, your body trembles.
“Tired,” you laugh breathlessly, and Jeongguk makes a confused noise, like he hasn’t quite heard you correctly. After no reply, he sniffs, collecting you in his arms to hold you tighter than before, using his energy to move you. You may as well be paralysed, a fucktoy for him as he bounces you up and down, basking in the moans in his ear, pornographic and nasty and lewd and heard over the music that has changed tempo.
“Ah!” Jeongguk grunts into your ear with every slam onto his dick, feeling his body seize up in warning. “Gonna - I might…” He doesn’t finish the sentence. You’re not listening to it. All you can focus on is the feeling in your stomach, pressing your nails into Jeongguk’s skin.
Jeongguk saves his own release for later. He focuses, instead, on you and making you feel good, slowing himself down in the race so that you can come first. His lips press back to yours, tongue hot, and he stops bouncing you. One arm is tight around your waist and the other snakes to the front of your body, between your legs where around your thighs he finds your clit, rubbing with his thumb. He can feel your body tense and dither over him, a tightness clenching around him as you squirm, Jeongguk’s hips tiredly thrusting upwards in a slow and steady rhythm.
“Ah - Jeongguk,” you cry, words sinking into his mouth. “Baby-”
With one final flick upwards, Jeongguk lets out a throat-forced grunt into your mouth right as the pot spills, and down the length of Jeongguk’s dick trickles white. You can’t see, it’s dark and blurry, and everything feels numb. It’s nothing like the beach, which was sweet and tender and a rainy haze. This time, it’s a burning that feels dull until it races up your body, like hot goosebumps, until it washes over your body like the drop from the tallest roller coaster. Jeongguk milks it up, his own hands shaking as he grunts wordlessly, until he stutters, his toes curling.
“Umf- babe,” he pants. He moves his hands, you’re attempting to move for him but you feel stuck. Instead you clench, hard and soft, Jeongguk squirms. “Gonna- I’m-” He’s silent. One moment, you hear the laughter and a cork pop outside, and the next moment, Jeongguk’s moans are in your ear, his hands rubbing up your thighs as he moves twice upwards, as if storing his cum in safe spots inside. And then, as if on cue, he pulls out, stuffing his hand where his dick was to feel the cum drip out, like a melting ice-cream.
On his forehead he feels your lips parted and breathing and he fiddles his fingers around, non-sexually, curious. The cum stains his fingers, dressing them, and he laughs from his chest, lost of breath.
Jeongguk sighs, slotting his fingers into your mouth quite suddenly. He can barely see you, the light is still dim behind you but it’s enough for him to make it out, the grain obtrusive. He feels your lips close around his fingers and your tongue on his fingertips, a dazed smile across his face.
He sighs again. “Shit. You’re incredible.”
With a wet sound, he moves his fingers out. Despite cumming, his dick is still semi-hard, on it’s way out. Jeongguk preens when your arms wrap around his neck, his mouth needily on yours for a brief kiss. “So good.”
“Yeah?” you ask quietly.
“The best,” he confirms. “Where’ve you been all my life, hm?”
You laugh through your nose, quiet. “Wasting money at Uni and working for my cousin.” He laughs too, a small one that makes him sound small. You play with the hair at the back of his head, “Sorry for making you wait so long.”
He shrugs. “Was worth it. You’re worth the wait.”
You hum in reply, too tired to move.
“Sticky,” you say with a frown.
Jeongguk’s arms tighten around you, acknowledging your words. “And you just got clean.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll shower in the morning.”
After a short while of sitting there, you slowly untangle your arms from around him. Jeongguk has the nerve to be confused, a small hum in question as you climb off him.
“Where you going?” he asks.
“I’m going to pee,” you reply. “To be safe.”
“Oh. Okay, pee on.”
“Sorry,” you say. Leaning up to kiss his lips, Jeongguk smiles into it and all the while as you move to hurry towards the bathroom. The sound of the toilet seat being lifted, and a slight squeak from the toilet that Yoongi desperately needs to consider replacing, and then Jeongguk settles down onto the bed with a happy sigh. His chest rises and falls as the party goes on outside, fireworks behind the Eiffel Tower.
He could get used to this.
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Something wakes you up with the sunrise, twisting into soft orange colours that stretch across the agriculture of Paris. It barely lights up the city, enough for shadows to still be drawn across the mocha coloured buildings, the stone still cold in the shade. You wriggle inside the sheets slightly, discomfort between your legs and very slowly, your eyes adjust to the slight light brewing in the bedroom.
The patio doors leading out onto the small balcony are drawn open, the see-through curtains swaying like slow hips in the wind. Beside you, the bed is cold, untucked and open where Jeongguk has climbed out. Mentioning Jeongguk, you notice that he sits on the end of the bed, facing the sunrise and the Eiffel Tower with a notebook in his hand. The pages are folded over the spine, bulking it up, and he taps a pen against his ear quietly. The sound is all you can hear alongside the early-rising birds, a car honk outside and the next door neighbours hanging out of their window with chocolate bread and strong coffee.
“Mmm. Guk?”
Your voice is slightly hoarse, bedirdden, and Jeongguk manages to hear it as he turns his head over his shoulder. A smile dawns on his face and he shifts, one hand on the bed and the book closing shut on its own. “Hey, baby. Sorry, did I wake you up?”
You yawn, rubbing your eyes. Some mascara rubs off onto your hand. “No, you’re okay.” He doesn’t say anything at first, there’s no competition for the next word. When your vision finally settles onto a visible image, you see Jeongguk’s face and the book in his lap. “What are you doing…? Wait, what time is it…”
“It’s about five thirty,” Jeongguk estimates, although he’s not sure. He’s actually not far off, it’s five fourty one. “And, um...not much.” For a moment, Jeongguk sounds bashful. He shrugs, hiding the book and smiling at you. “You can go back to sleep if you want. I’ll be quiet.”
“Kinda hungry,” you admit. You inhale the air, “Oh my God, those fuckers next door have coffee.”
“Chocolate bread, too. Caught a glimpse when I opened the doors.”
You groan. “What the fuck…”
Jeongguk laughs, genuinely. His head turns back towards the Eiffel Tower, in awe, and after a few minutes of nothing but morning silence, you sigh and clamber over the sheets. They’re cold, crisp and wrinkled, and Jeongguk looks up at the noise. He frowns, only because you’re wearing barely anything.
“You’re gonna get cold,” Jeongguk points out, his hands reaching for the bed throw that had been kicked onto the floor during the night. “Want me to close the window?”
“No, it’s pretty.”
“It’s cold, though.”
You push your face onto Jeongguk’s shoulder blade. “Whatever.”
He chuckles, resigning from the conversation. You’ll win anyway. A tiny bird lands on the patio rails, and you inhale the morning air, planting a kiss on Jeongguk’s shoulder.
“You sure you’re okay?”
This makes Jeongguk look up. His eyes wear confusion and adoration, round and searching as he looks over his shoulder. “Yeah. Why, why wouldn’t they be?”
“I worry about you, ‘s all,” you reply quietly. “All the time.”
Jeongguk’s heart breaks.
“I’m...I’m good,” he replies honestly. “Really good. I haven’t been doing this great in...well...I don’t know, forever? Call it cringey, or whatever, but having you in my life...Fuck, it’s changed everything.”
You gaze up at him. “You’ve made a pretty big difference in my life, too, you know?”
“Yeah.”
“And I’m here for you. Always.”
Jeongguk doesn’t miss a beat- his hand wraps to stroke your hair, curled from the shower earlier, pressing a little kiss to your nose. He nods, and his hair brushes against your face. “Yeah.” He nods, confident, “Yeah. Actually- LOL,” he laughs, “I. Um, I wrote something.”
“Oh? Yeah, what did you write?”
He reopens the book. The pages are littered with lines of writing, alongside small doodles in the margins, words like arrows shooting across the lines. His hands flip to a page that has the corner marked down, the numbers “23” in bold outline at the top of the page. You inhale, nervous, your eyes lazily looking at the lines.
“Just a song,” Jeongguk explains. “Woke up, looked over at you, just got the idea. I had to write it down as soon as I thought about it. Got the melody and stuff worked out, just need to make a note and tell the guys when I get back.”
You hum, genuinely enthralled. You quickly look at him, “Can I hear some?”
If it were light enough, you might have caught a blush across his face. He clears his throat, shy.
“I’m fadin’ away off some kind of drug, maybe it’s lust, maybe it’s love,” his voice is quiet, almost as if speaking the words is something wrong, “I know I said I’d straighten a week ago, I feelin’ though, bout to reach my peak, you know. This city’s got me fallin, now, I’m fading away, I’m losing my head…” He mutters the lyrics, singing quietly. As he skims over what he’s got scribbled down, you can feel your heart thudding, soaring, feeling numb and soft and warm and everything else.
“It’s about you, called 23,” Jeongguk says. At some point, you’ve missed the rest of the lyrics, intent on gazing at Jeongguk like he is God’s angel sent down from Heaven. He is so beautiful, so kind and pure. “Sound okay?”
You nod, and maybe Jeongguk sees tears pearling in your eyes. “Yeah. Fuck- it sounds beautiful, Guk.”
A smile immediately reaches across Jeongguk’s face. It lights up the room better than the sun, now reaching higher into the sky. “You’re beautiful. I wanna make you so happy.”
“You do make me happy.”
“Yeah?” he asks, laughing, his eyes turned into moons. “Well...Look. I’ve never had to ask anyone, so it’s awkward as fuck right now, but...like…” He laughs, and you do too, because you know it’s coming, “Do you, like...wanna be my girl?”
“Your girl?”
He laughs louder. “Fine - my girlfriend! Y/N L/N, the light of my small and sad life, will you please be my girlfriend?”
Once your laughter has calmed down, and Jeongguk’s hand tiredly slips from your hair down to the bed next to your own, you really, honestly look at Jeongguk. Above everything else, you can’t quite believe that you are here with him; with somebody you never thought you had a chance with, with somebody who you would do absolutely anything for. The way you presently feel about Jeongguk is overwhelming and dangerous, so strong that sometimes you feel afraid by it. You bite your bottom lip, amusing the idea of actually thinking about it, and then you nod.
“Sure. Of course,” you agree, kissing his shoulder. His head follows you, his breath on the bare skin of your shoulders as he ducks his head to kiss the side of yours. “You’ve got me.”
Jeongguk feels like he could quite honestly burst into tears. “I’ve got you.”
(“I’m not 23 though,” you say to him once the love has died down. He cracks a smile and pushes you back onto the bed, returning to look at the Eiffel Tower.)
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part two (final)
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jbbuckybarnes · 4 years
Text
Professor Sugar - 7/7
Pairing: Student!Reader x Professor!Bucky Description: Like tons of other students you struggle with finances, but you can’t get any aid since your parents are filthy rich. The system doesn’t care that they broke off contact after you came out as bisexual. There is, however, someone else that cares. The prof of your class on PTSD and trauma. Professor Barnes. Warnings: 18+, f/m smut, secret relationship, not beta read.
Professor Sugar Masterlist // Masterlist
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New beginnings
You took the final in his class with a jumper of his hugging your body for support. The thoughts going into it were neutral. You had studied a lot, but you also didn‘t want to get your hopes up too high. The week before finals and the week he graded them were almost without contact. You understood that. Both of you didn‘t want to feel like you were cheating the system. Only sleeping in his shirts really helped to not go crazy during that time.
With weak knees you went to his apartment the day grades were announced on the school‘s online platform. They went up right when you were at his front door and he would either have to calm you down or celebrate with you. Mobile data really was absolute shit in this city. Why did you not wait until the grades went online with going outside. Oh, yeah, celebration or makeup sex. The damn loading bar on top of your browser was killing you as you got out at your station. Once you were in the proximity of his WiFi it loaded fully. Your eyes went wide and you wanted to collapse and yell at the same time. A-. You ran up the stairs and got the door opened in an instant before falling into his arms. „I. Am. So. Proud. Of. You.“ He said kissing you after every word. A happy squeal left you as you grabbed his face to kiss him thoroughly. While he closed the door behind you he also grabbed you closer. There was not even a millimeter of space between the two of you. He couldn‘t keep his hands off you. Your shirt flew somewhere into the direction of his couch, his somewhere onto the kitchen floor. Your bra was removed in one go before his thumbs went under your panties and janked both your leggings and panties down to your thighs. He looked into your eyes for a second, panting heavily, „Nope, won‘t make it to the bed.“ You were picked up and pushed onto the kitchen counter, the rest of your clothes taken off before you heard his. „Hmm, full circle.“ You hummed as he came up above you. „I had to keep this from you for a week.“ He growled as his kisses went down your neck. „Oh, so your primal touch comes from that and not from you missing my-“ You were silenced with a harsh, passionate kiss and a deep push making your back arch up. „Missed you so much, so proud of you.“ His mouth claimed yours again as he started thrusting into you. „Knew you‘d wing it.“ He grumbled before moaning. There were little bites into your neck and shoulder that bathed you in a new nuance of bliss. „Finally all mine.“ He growled. He was celebrating that you weren‘t his student anymore. No more subtle guilt. „Ho-ly shit.“ You panted before moaning out again. „Uh-hu. That‘s my girl.“ He panted before thrusting harder, making you scream out. „Oh fuck.“ You squirmed in his tight grasp on you. „C‘mon. Show me you‘re mine.“ He growled down at you. He needed the satisfaction of claiming you as his now. This wasn‘t just some student and professor having the hots for each other and one helping the other financially anymore. This was passion and love. His hips stuttered as your head fell back with a loud moan and a deep scratch of his back. His warmth was following shortly, before he settled there for a moment. „Looks like we should clean the counter.“ You giggled and went through his hair as he came up a bit to look at you. „Mine. Mine. Mine.“ He kissed the corners of your lips and your nose with that. „Yours.“ You whispered while going over his beard. He got off the kitchen counter shortly after, making you see the mess you made with him. „Hm, not bad.“ You shrugged. „Want me to do better? ’Cause I‘m not finished with you, darling.“ He smirked a little evil before swooping you up and bringing you to his bed. There was another round of passionate and intense sex before you changed to sweet lovemaking. You opened your eyes two hours later. You both had fallen asleep from all the physical activities and you really needed the nap after all those weeks of studying. You grabbed a pair of his briefs, his giant hoodie from the armchair in his bedroom and your socks from the kitchen floor. The other clothes laying around the apartment were put into a neat pile and placed on top of his washing machine. You cleaned up the countertop and proceeded to stalk his fridge. There was a little box of donuts with a „For you“ in his handwriting on it. He really was a cute dork through and through when he wasn‘t in professor mode or putting you through the mattress. You grabbed the box and sat back down on the countertop, ignoring the bar stools as per usual. A hum behind you got you out of your thoughts. He was leaning against the frame of the bedroom door and looked at you with a content smile. „You look the best in my clothes.“ He said with his soft and grumbly sleep voice. „You look good...naked.“ You eyed him, still chewing on a chocolate donut with chocolate filling. „I‘ll put on something. Can‘t have you attached to me all day.“ He chuckled turning around. „Yes, you can. Especially with that ass.“ You commented, mouth still full of food. „You‘ll get to see it as many times as you want. Just need to be wearing something to give you something else.“ You heard him from his closet. „If it isn‘t an orgasm I‘m not interested.“ You yelled over and heard him laugh. In briefs and a hoodie himself he came out of the bedroom with a box in his arms. „Where did that come from?“ You raised a brow, letting the last bit of the donut vanish into your mouth. „I think you were too busy moaning your heart out to see this in my closet.“ He sent you sly smile before setting it down on the coffee table and waiting for you to come over to the couch. „Well, let‘s see if this compares to your hard work.“ You smirked and sat down next to him and heard a deep inhale and exhale. „So...I know we have been talking about this whole thing of me buying you stuff and that you didn‘t want to feel like you were just sleeping with me to get things from me. So I saved up all the things I bought you in between until the end of the semester. Which is right now.“ He explained all innocent and cute. „So I just put my moans into a savings account...is what you‘re telling me?“ You grinned before laughing out loud with him. „I mean...kinda. Hey, look, I love buying you things. Not because you have sex with me, but because I genuinely like spending time with you and because I want to see you grow as a human being.“ He explained a little more serious. „Sugar Daddy with feelings.“ You whispered with a smile. „I‘d be pretty upset if you would‘ve managed to fake all of this.“ He chuckled. „I‘m not. If I could do that, I already would‘ve had my try at this whole sex for money kinda thing. I mean, I‘m a desperate college student.“ You laughed, „But I guess not anymore, ’cause you already helped me so much with little things.“ You thought about that little study account idea he had in the beginning of the semester.  By now it had grown to a few thousand people and you were starting to get things offered as well as people asking you for products, telling you how to make them, making new friends in the process. You leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek. „Open it.“ His demeanor was soft. Softer than usual. You grabbed the box closer and undid the bow around it. There must be tons of things in there unless he bought something incredibly big. You flipped open the lid and stopped breathing for a second, „Wow.“ „There is an order to it too,“ he announced proudly and got out the first three things. „Toys,“ you commented dryly and looked at him, „Why did you wait with those? I just spent two weeks without your d-...whatever, let me see them.“ „Hmm.“ You read through each description on the box. One of them was something one of your friends kept talking about, so that was a good sign. The other two would need a thorough testing. „Well, we won‘t get sleep tonight...or, well, I will, after these prove to be good.“ You grinned at him and got a kiss behind your ear with a deep chuckle. He handed you the next packaging, „The rosegold headphones I‘ve been talking about!“ You could see in his eyes how much he bathed in the feeling of making your face light up like this. You unpacked the headphones and ran through the entire apartment to get it to charge somewhere. „So, there‘s been that thing you kept talking about whenever we were driving over here from campus…“ He held up a H&M bag and set it down between you both. „You..bought me the teddy bear material jacket.“ You gave him full puppy eyes for that. Your heart just started exploding at how much he listened to the little things on the side. „You will look gorgeous in it.“ He smiled and gave you a kiss. „Will you take pictures of me in it?“ You asked all giddy about it and got a big nod back. Then he got out four big books and set them down on your lap. „All the books from the author of the Pentagon book?“ You jumped and wiggled on the couch cushion. „With audio book codes,“ he announced super proud of himself. „My god. I‘m not sure if you can top that.“ You said hugging the books. He made a gift card appear between two of his fingers. The little logo on it spelling IKEA. „$700 IKEA gift card...bought it after we managed to get that noise complaint. You can buy a bed or a closet with it. Or a stupid amount of decorations.“ He started chuckling at your frozen body with the shocked face. „SEVEN-HUNDRED-DOLLARS. ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR GODDAMN MIND?“ You threw yourself backwards against the cushions. „Yes, I am.“ He chuckled and dragged you back up. „You can also spend it helping others...if that‘s what you wanna do,“ he said still holding onto your hands gently. „But that‘s it, right?“ You looked at him frowning a little. „Well…“ He scratched his back and chuckled at your head falling into your hands. „Only two more things.“ He finally let you know. The next thing was brought out, jewelry box, flat, a bit bigger. He opened it to reveal a necklace with a little plate. „Wait…“ You tried to process and looked up. „Had part of my old tags redone for this necklace. I want you to know how much you mean to me. I wouldn‘t just give this to anyone. That thing is what makes me feel pain and safety,“ He picked it up, „And you don‘t have to wear it, but it would mean the world to me if you did.“ You sat there with your mouth so wide open that your jaw started hurting, „I‘m- Wow- This is- Yes, of course I‘ll wear it.“ You nodded heavily as his demeanor changed to a more relaxed one and he carefully put the necklace around your neck. „And the last gift kinda comes with that one.“ He mumbled and got out the last gift, also a small box, a little less jewelry-box-looking. He handed it to you and you carefully opened it. There was a key in it, a key with a „B“ stamped into it at the top. „This is also your home now, if you want it to.“ He said almost shy. For some reason this didn‘t feel fast moving. Yes, this thing had only been going on for around 3 months, but it just felt right the entire time. You had the right chemistry, you talked a lot, you just got each others‘ brains and your morals matched. „This place isn‘t my home, Bucky. You are,“ you whispered. It was true, since you both hit it off you were worrying less about the future and your place in the world.
He grabbed your hands again and cleared his throat before looking at you. „I just knew you were different the second you came up to that desk and asked me for suggestions like the biggest, most determined, nerd. You seemed so interesting and you just sounded like an unpolished crystal the more we talked. So I started looking forward to talking to you in my office twice a week...and I guess it kinda clicked along the way. And it kinda clicked again recently, when I realized you wouldn‘t be a student anymore that I would have to hide to protect. My god, I‘m so completely and utterly in love with you. So much love shouldn‘t even be allowed. I‘ve never been so happy and so far away from all my bad thoughts. Thank you for being you, darling. I love you.“ He opened up his heart to you. Your face lit up, „I feel the same. So much lighter, less misplaced, like I have more purpose. I feel the way you make me grow, okay? I love the little soft and nerdy bits you show of yourself. Or the lovey dovey things like right now. I love all of it. I love YOU!“ He grabbed your face and gave you one of the softest kisses you shared until now. „Let‘s take this as a new beginning and actually start living now. No dumb second thoughts because of the educational system.“ He mumbled against your lips. „Yes, a new beginning.“ You smiled staring into his storm blue eyes. Maybe you‘d manage to graduate how you wanted to, get a good job, or maybe make money from that study account and those products, buy a house with him and have your little happy ever after. You looked forward to that. You finally looked forward to the future.
M a s t e r l i s t
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morningfears · 4 years
Text
505
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Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18! 
Summary: Inspired by 505 by Arctic Monkeys and “I know you can be louder than that,” both requested by anons.
Word Count: 1.1k (I kinda stayed within drabble length?)
Seven hours separated the two of you.
After already having been apart for two months, three days, six hours, and thirty-four minutes (not that either of you had counted), one more flight should have seemed like a piece of cake. However, as the boys sat in yet another airport, waiting to board yet another plane, one more flight - seven short hours - seemed like an eternity. Zion stared at the open text thread, the one that you’d spammed with photographs of your face and your house (you’d gotten bored while he was gone and had bought a new duvet, swapped around the furniture in the living room, and had reorganized the kitchen), and bit back another sigh.
He wore his heart on his sleeve and everyone could see the exhaustion clearly written on his face. It was physical, yes, but missing you wore him down in a way that he never could’ve understood without experiencing it for himself. He’d experienced a sort of homesickness for people before. Missing his parents and his siblings and his friends while he was on the road had always been brutal. However, missing you was different. He missed your voice and longed to hear it without the tinny quality of iPhone audio. He missed your face, especially when it was too close to his as you laid in bed and talked before you shared a kiss and went to sleep. He missed you touch, the calm it brought him anytime he got in his head.
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss everything about you and seven hours felt like an eternity when it stood between him and the opportunity to get reacquainted with his girl.
He knew that with the time difference, you’d already be in bed. You made him promise that he’d wake you up the moment he got home and you didn’t have to ask him twice. Though you both valued your sleep above all, getting a kiss from you after two months of nothing seemed a little more important. He knew that the snap he sent you wouldn’t receive a reply, not a coherent one, anyway, but he still sent you a quick selfie with caption, ‘We’re leaving London. See you in seven hours.’ 
As he boarded his flight, you tossed and turned in the bed that the pair of you usually shared. You’d set an alarm (though it hurt your soul just a bit to set one for so early on a Saturday) and had gone to bed early just to ensure you wouldn’t be tired when Zion entered the house just shy of seven in the morning. However, despite doing everything you could to make yourself go to sleep early - drinking Sleepytime tea, taking melatonin, going for a run - and nothing seemed to be helping. You left your phone facedown on the nightstand, hopeful that the light from notifications wouldn’t wake you, and resisted the urge to reach out and check it any time the slightest sliver of light caught your attention.
For all of your desperate attempts, you only managed to get an hour or two of sleep. When six rolled around, you abandoned all hope of getting anymore sleep and laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling. You thought about the last two months, the time you spent away from Zion, and realized that his return was far closer than you imagined it was. He’d be home in less than an hour and your entire body felt as if electricity was running through it. However,  no matter how excited you were to see him once more (and to get your hands on him again), you knew that he’d be exhausted. As much as you knew you’d both want to get reacquainted the moment he entered the house, you also knew that it would probably be best to convince him to nap first.
At the very least, you’d be able to cuddle as you slept together and you’d both be able to get rid of a little of your exhaustion.
However, rationality did nothing to calm the erratic beating of your heart that had started the moment you thought about having Zion’s hands on you once more. You hesitated for a moment, hands gripping the edge of the duvet, before you decided that the best course of action would be to take care of yourself. You’d managed two months without him, using your hands to sate your desire, so a few more hours wouldn’t matter much in the long run. 
Zion imagined that he’d return home to find you asleep in your shared bed, wrapped in the new duvet you were so excited about. He imagined that he’d have to pry you from your sleep with kisses pressed to your shoulders and neck and face. He imagined that you’d laugh as he buried his face in the crook of your neck until the laughter turned to moans as he nipped at your skin.
However, nothing he imagined compared to the sight of finding you lying in your shared bed with your hands between your thighs. 
He stood in the doorframe for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he listened to the quiet moans spilling past your lips. He watched quietly for a moment, content to look for just a second, before the surprise and sleep deprivation wore off and he stepped into the bedroom.
“I know you can be louder than that.”
You released a quiet squeal at the sound of Zion’s voice and blinked in surprise as he crossed the bedroom and took a seat at the foot of the bed. “Fuck, you’re back early.”
“Mm,” he nodded as he reached out to move the duvet away from your legs and brush his fingers over your skin, “didn’t take as long at the airport as I thought. You couldn’t wait for me?”
“Figured you’d be tired,” you offered as an explanation as you attempted to close your legs. “Wanted you to get some sleep first.” Zion kept his grip on your ankle firm and kept you from closing your legs as his eyes raked over your bare skin. 
“It’s been two months and you think I’ll be able to sleep before I get to feel you again? I don’t think so,” he laughed as he shook his head and moved to reposition himself on the bed. “We can sleep later. How about I help you out now, baby?”
His hands brushed your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he brushed your hand out of the way to slip his own between your thighs. The sun had barely risen and the little sleep you managed to get surely wasn’t enough to get you through the day, however, you couldn’t think of anything other than his hands on your body and his mouth on yours as you leaned up and reached out to pull him into a kiss.
It had been two long months and you couldn’t wait to make up for lost time.
_______________________________________________________________________
Author’s Note: The first time writing for someone new is always a challenge. So. This is rough and I’m sorry. BUT. You can still request a drabble and I’ll do my best to make it better. Because I’m in my feelings. He’s too pretty. Okay. Sorry this isn’t super smutty. I haven’t written smut in ages and I’m working back up to it.
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emma-nation · 5 years
Text
Without You - Bloodbound AU (Chapter 8) *For You Sequel*
Summary: Gaius is back. While coming up with a plan to take him down, the gang must deal with some new life-changing events.
Genre: Angst/Adventure/Romance
Rating: T - Warning for violence and language
Tag List: @begging-for-kamilah, @lulu-the-cat, @ilovekamilahsayeed, @zoe6111, @kennaxval
Notes:
- English is my second language, please forgive me for any mistakes.
- Hope you enjoy it, your reviews and likes are always appreciated.
- Things have went as planned this week, so here’s a regular update for ya :)
- MxF Smut Scene Warning! As in Chapter 5, I added a warning, so if you’re not interested, you can just skip this part without affecting the understanding of the chapter.
Kamilah
“Kamilah,” the voice from the other side of the audio device said, “it’s not even midnight yet. This is your third drink.”
Kamilah rolled her eyes. Her brother didn’t know what she was going through. No one did. She was the one who was about to meet Gaius in only a few minutes, without any idea of how he was going to act.
She was also by herself. After going home, back from the Hamptons, she was willing to hear Lysimachus’ plan. For her surprise, there was no plan at all.
“After you meet him, Priya is doing her part and… we’ll trap him inside the sarcophagus again.”
“What do you mean?! That I’ve been risking myself for nothing?!” Kamilah angered inside her brother’s home office. “What about the book?” She wanted to know.
“It was all fake,” her brother told. “A bunch of crap some amateur witch wrote in the past. There’s no ritual.”
Kamilah closed her eyes and sighed deeply.
“So that’s the big plan? We put him back in the sarcophagus until someone, like that one in your living room, decides to betray us and set him free?”
“If that makes you feel any better, we can hide him somewhere safe, where only the two of us will know.”
Lysimachus secretly followed her to Gaius’ hideaway, listening and communicating with her through a high-technology equipment. He also gave her a powerful weapon to defend herself, in case things went wrong.
“I’m gonna need a lot of alcohol before meeting that son of a bitch,” she was sitting at a table in the Midnight Lounge, with her third drink in hands.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“I have to be,” she took one long sip, “not only for me. But for Amy, if he finds out about her… well, I need to keep her safe.”
While she reminisced about her times in Italy and a past lover, that now she was sure Gaius was involved in the assassination, she ignored what her brother was saying. All she could think about was how determined she was to get what she wanted: to know Gaius’ plans and use it to defeat him.
“Sister?” His voice called her back to reality. “Are you listening?”
“Yes, my apologies. I got distracted.”
“Do you think you can make it quick? Uhhh… there’s somewhere else I was supposed to be.”
“You’re not seeing it, but I’m rolling my eyes!” Kamilah growled, knowing what he meant. “Serious, brother? Priya’s fashion show?”
“I promised her.”
Kamilah didn’t answer. Although she didn’t want to admit, or even accept it, she knew her brother was falling for Priya. And she knew Priya was unable to develop any kind of affection for another being, except for her dogs, perhaps.
“Whatever,” she finally replied. “I didn’t ask you to come with me in first place. I can do it by myself.”
After a moment of silence between the twins, the clock struck midnight and it was time for Kamilah to go. Gaius would be waiting for her.
“I must go now.”
“Sister? I love you.”
“I love you too, brother.”
She entered the door in the back of the bar like the last time, where the gruesome competition Mortals vs. Vampires took place for another night. She followed her way, avoiding to pay much attention. As she followed to the basement, Harvey was already waiting for her.
“Well well, I was starting to think you wouldn’t show up,” her former clan member teased.
“I thought you knew me enough to know I always keep my word.”
“You never truly know someone, Kamilah. That’s something you taught me.”
“Ignore him,” Lysimachus suggested. “He’s testing you.”
Her twin brother was working on a counter-spell to break the hypnosis. Kamilah only hoped it’d be before she lost her patience completely and killed Harvey with her own hands. In her vampire form, she only looked at the male vampire in a threatening manner. Letting him know she was still in charge.
“I suppose you have a good explanation to your brother’s stupid move, Kamilah,” Harvey insisted.
“Oh please, I owe you no explanations. I’m here to see Gaius.”
She barely finished her sentence when an ancient figure emerged from darkness.
“Harvey, how dare you to bother My Queen?”
Kamilah felt a lump on her throat as Gaius started coming in her direction. A shiver went through her entire body. A feeling of weakness and insecurity took control of her mind.
“G-Gaius.”
“Hello, My Queen.”
She had no time to say anything else, Gaius hand gripped around her neck as he lifted her off the ground.
“Tell me, Kamilah. Tell me Harvey is wrong about you. You didn’t have anything to do with your brother’s move, did you?”
She gasped, attempting to breath and answer his question, but she couldn’t. She shook her head in denial.
“No?” Gaius asked, loosening a little bit the grip around her throat.
“N-No,” Kamilah spoke, with some difficult. “I… I haven’t spoke to… Lysimachus in… days…”
When Gaius finally let her go, she felt on her knees. He kneeled right in front of her, lifting up her face to look straight in her eyes.
“Hmmmm,” he smiled. “She’s telling the truth. I told you, Harvey. My Queen will always be loyal to me.”
Kamilah took a moment to breath and regain her strength. Looking at her surroundings, she noticed Jameson was nowhere to be seen. As well as the other thralls.
“Sister, are you alright?” Lysimachus asked, through the audio device. “Please, say something.”
“I thought we were having a meeting,” she spoke. “Where are the others?”
“Anya is upstairs, observing our potential candidates who have joined Mortals vs. Vampires. Jameson… is taking care of something else.”
“What about Nate? You must have figured out at this point that he’s good at disobeying rules.”
“Not here, my Queen. Nate has been a loyal soldier, this is why I gave him the night to do what he likes the most, having fun.”
There was something wrong behind Gaius’ grin and Kamilah needed to figure out what it was.
“Suspicious much?” Lysimachus asked. “Call it a night, sister. Let’s go home and figure out what they’re up to.”
Ignoring her brother’s advice, she decided to proceed with her own plan.
“I’m thirsty,” she announced.
“Why didn’t you say it earlier, My Queen. I have some mortals…”
“Alcohol, I mean.”
Sitting down, she waited until a hypnotized waiter came downstairs bringing a bottle of whiskey. She examined the bottle and smiled.
“Playing to my tastes, My Love? It seems like you haven’t forgotten what I appreciate.”
“How could I, My Queen?” The ancient vampire approached, caressing her cheek as if he was going to pull her for a kiss.
“There’s something missing,” Kamilah took a step back, grabbing the mortal waiter by the arm and sinking her fangs deeply into his neck.
Gaius watched everything amused.
“Kamilah, stop,” Lysimachus ordered. “You don’t have to take it so far.”
Indeed. But to defeat Gaius she was willing to go until the last consequences. As she felt the mortal was getting weak, she healed his neck and let him go.
“Kamilah doesn’t kill anymore,” Harvey provoked again. “She only feeds from domesticated mortals.”
“And so do you. It’s the price we pay to live in peace among mortals.”
“This is wrong, My Queen,” Gaius shook his head, looking somehow upset. “You should be ruling this city like the Goddess you are, not being submissive to mortals.”
“I prefer this way. Rather than spending my life running away or hiding after leaving a trail of bodies behind.”
“My beloved Kamilah… I fear that this years away from your King made you forget who you truly are. Your true nature. We’ll have to fix it, but first… I’m looking forward to hear the news you brought me.”
Kamilah handed him a folder Lysimachus gave her, containing false information about The Council members.
“This file contains the latest information about the other members of The Council. Their usual routine, their current businesses, their schedule for the next days… I assume it’s useful to your plans.”
Gaius examined the papers, reading carefully every line.
“This is amazing, My Queen. I suppose it’s not being easy for you to spend time with those traitors! There’s one thing you’ve got wrong though.”
“W-What is it?” For a second, Kamilah feared he had found out about their plans.
“Priya Lacroix’s fashion show is tonight. Not tomorrow.”
“A-Are you planning to kill her, my King?” She asked, with a false grin on her face.
“Not yet,” Gaius sat down to explain his plans, “first we must destroy what she loves the most, her career, her popularity. How about a big explosion on her little show, where thousands of mortals would be injured? What would the journalists say? Especially when the blame falls on Priya herself? She will be lonely, vulnerable and then… I’ll crush like the insect she is! And this is nothing, compared to what I’ll be doing to the rest. The Baron, Lester and especially,“ he clenched his fists in pure anger, “Adrian.“
———-
Amy
Amy let out a frustrated grunt as she checked her phone again, something she had been doing a lot for the last few hours.
“Amy,” Lily paused her game to look at her, “checking your phone every five seconds won’t bring Kamilah home sooner.”
“I know. I just wanted to know if she’s alright. She promised to call me as soon as the meeting was over.”
She was trying to act strong, for her own sanity. She tried to avoid thinking about everything that could go wrong in that meeting, how Gaius could torture Kamilah or even kill her, if he found out she wasn’t hypnotized. Kamilah also asked her to stay with Lily and Jax at the Shadow Den, where none of Gaius’ thralls would be able to locate her.
“I’m bored,” the girl complained. “I’d feel better if we could actually dosomething.”
“Amy! We are doing something, we’re shooting zombies!”
“Other than that. Like going out for a drink, that’s what I needed right now.”
“Kamilah ordered me to keep an eye on you and I’m not breaking my promise. You know how she’s like when she’s angry.”
“To be honest it isn’t that bad,” Amy let out a small laugh. “Not with me at least. She’s unable to be mad at me for too long. Come on, Lily…” she insisted. “If she finds out I’ll tell her it was my idea.”
“Fine,” Lily agreed. “But we’ll bring Jax with us. I think I may have something in mind.”
A few minutes later, she was inside a car with a blindfold in her eyes. She had no idea where Lily and Jax were taking her, but it should be fun.
“We’re almost there,” her best friend announced when they parked the car and she took her hand, guiding her to their destination.
When Lily finally removed the blindfold, Amy saw herself at a bar. A geek-themed bar. There were arcades, a band playing some rock music and a peculiar crowd.
“Whoa,” she exclaimed. “Where am I?”
“At the hottest spot for supernatural creatures in New York City,” Lily told.
“It was founded recently, by a Shadow Den member,” Jax completed. “And Lilly thought…”
“It’s the perfect place for your Bachelorette Party!”
While they accommodate themselves in a stand, Amy checked her phone again. Still no news of Kamilah.
“Bachelorette Party,” she thought. “I don’t even know if there will be a wedding yet.”
A vampire waitress came, bringing them some drinks and snacks. Being aware of Amy’s presence, every detail had been prepared especially for her, with everything she liked the most.
“I can’t thank you enough, Lil. I really hadn’t planned anything yet.”
“But I had! And… Lysimachus asked Priya to organize a surprise Bachelorette Party for Kamilah too.”
“Oh my god! She’s going to be so thrilled.”
Both she and Lily laughed, knowing Kamilah would never agree with the idea.
After a few shots she was finally more relaxed, observing Jax gathering with other members with the Shadow Den and Lily helplessly trying to beat a score at an arcade machine.
“Lil, you won’t be capable of doing that… not when you’re so drunk!”
“Amy, never underestimate my drunk skills!” She pressed a combination of buttons, that lead her to the next stage of the game. “Only one more.”
“Hey, I wanted to ask you something.”
“Go ahead.”
“I… I feel you’re all hiding something from me. What’s with the plan to defeat Gaius? Kamilah seemed really pissed off about this morning and you change the subject everytime I mention it.”
“Amy, the truth is… there’s no ritual. It was a misunderstanding, that’s all. We’re back to the start, there’s no plan to defeat Gaius. I’m sorry.”
Quietly, she walked away back to her seat. With Gaius breathing on Kamilah’s neck it was a matter of time before he killed her, or hypnotized her for real. What about her? The ancient vampire would never admit somebody else to steal hisQueen, especially a mortal. None of Kamilah’s past lovers ever survived for long. Most of them died in unusual circumstances.
When she checked her phone again, a notification of a new message on her voice mail gave her some hope. She went outside to hear.
“Amy, it’s me. Your mom. Listen, darling. I just saw the picture you posted on your Instagram. Bachelorette Party? Amy, there’s still time to give up on this madness. Do you realize what you’re doing to your life? What about your grandma? Her dream was to see you getting married in our church, she has been suffering so much. Why don’t you…”
She pressed the delete button, refusing to listen to the rest of the message. When she headed back inside, a mysterious voice called for her:
“There are so many questions in your head right now, aren’t there, child?”
“Huh?!” She looked around, not seeing where it was coming from.
“Near the bathroom, in the last stand.”
She looked at the direction indicated, seeing a hooded figure sitting at the table.
“I can answer all your questions.”
“What are you? A psychic?” Amy asked aloud.
“Not like this, Amy. Inside your mind. Telepathy.”
Amy froze. How did that mysterious person knew so much about her? Could it be someone from Wright’s cult? Anyways, she still felt some insecurity towards her special abilities.
”Who are you and how do you know so much about me?“ She decided to try, putting a lot of strength in this thought.
”Calm down, my child. I’m a fellow supernatural friend, and we recognize each other. We can read each other.“
“Then why can’t I read you?”
“You haven’t trained your abilities enough yet.”
“Good point.”
Kamilah always warned her to be careful regarding her abilities and people who would eventually cross her path in New York. She should never completely trust anyone. There was a lot about the supernatural world she wasn’t ready to know yet.
“This is completely fine, Amy. You don’t have to trust me.”
The fact the mysterious figure was still reading her mind started to frighten her.
“But I see you’re worried… Kamilah is her name, isn’t it? I can tell you exactly where she is, and what she’s doing right now. Better yet, I can show you.”
Amy checked her phone again. There was still no signs of Kamilah. She sighed and started walking, headed to the stand where the hooded figure was sitting. She sat in front of them, yet she was unable to see their face.
“All right,” she spoke. “No more mind games. Just tell me how Kamilah is doing. I need to know.”
“Not like this, child,” she heard again inside her head.
“Fine,” Amy grunted, before starting to speak telepathically. “Tell me where’s Kamilah.”
“Hmmmm…” the figure was silent, pensive for a few seconds. “Her life may be in danger… she’s in the company of a dangerous someone… very dangerous…”
“Oh my god! How is she? Is he doing something bad to her? Please, I have to know!”
“I could show you but… I’ll need a little something.”
“What is it? I’ll do anything for Kamilah.”
“A few drops of your blood,” the figure told. “Just prick your finger and drop it inside this recipient. Through the water, mixed with your blood, I’ll be able to show you where Kamilah is.”
Without thinking twice, Amy took the needle the mysterious person offered her and followed their instructions. After a few seconds, the water inside the small recipient start to form an image and like a movie screen, she started seeing a scene. Kamilah was leaving Gaius’ hideaway in a hurry, desperate to speak to her brother. She entered her car and started driving back to New York.
“She’s alright,” Amy sighed relieved and smiled. “Thank you so much.”
“Anytime, my child. Until we meet again.”
As the figure disappeared through the door, Amy went meet Lily and Jax again. After all, she had a Bachelorette Party to enjoy. Soon, Kamilah would be back, safe and sound in their penthouse.
———-
Lysimachus
At full speed, Lysimachus drove back to New York City. Priya’s life was in danger, as well as her career and reputation. Gaius knew exactly where to hit her, how to make her weak and vulnerable for his final attack. A revenge for being part of the riot against him almost one century earlier.
All he could think about was his conversation with her in the morning…
Three days had passed since Lysimachus had found out what he was supposed to do to kill Gaius. In order to destroy his greatest enemy, he’d have to destroy his sister’s heart, and that wasn’t even a possibility. He loved Amy as much as Kamilah. She was like a younger sister to him.
"Hunter,” Priya’s voice interrupted his thoughts, “pass me the milk, dammit!”
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I got distracted.”
“Distracted? You’ve been acting like a zombie.”
Priya laughed at her own comment as she poured the milk in her cereal bowl. Three days had also passed since she told him about her past. Nothing changed between them, except that she was pretending that night at her swimming pool never happened.
“You look happy this morning,” he pointed. “You’re never happy so early.”
“Did you forget?!” Her face turned into a frown. “Hunter! How could you?”
“Oh, tonight is the debut of your Spring collection.”
“Of course! Will you be there or will you be on the hunt for some fresh brains to eat?”
“I’ll try my best but… I’m going with Kamilah to meet Gaius.”
She stopped eating and stared at him, looking concerned for a moment.
“Well,” she shrugged, “if you make it alive, there will be an after-party in my house.”
“It’s not my thing,” he was very aware of what Priya’s after-parties were about. “It could be different, you know.”
His last words made her stop eating again.
“We’ll need to talk about it eventually, Priya.”
“About what?” She asked in response, in an almost inaudible tone.
“About the other night.”
“Sorry, I don’t talk about things I’ve said when I was drunk.”
Those were the last words he heard from her mouth.
Only a few minutes. That had to be enough to prevent a tragedy.
Arriving at her club, he looked around, trying to spot any suspicious faces. Using a detector he developed, he could identify three bombs planted at different spots of The Crimson Veil and one of Gaius’ thralls should be responsible for detonating them.
The show had already started and the club was crowded. Near the catwalk he spotted a familiar face… Nate. Luckily the young vampire hadn’t seen him yet. He needed to be cautious, one wrong move and the bombs would be activated.
First, he sat at the bar, observing the teenage vampire from far. He impatiently checked his phone at every second, waiting for instructions. Lysimachus took a deep breath. Next time he got distracted, he’d act.
He approached a little, merging among the crowd. When Nate pulled his phone out of his pocket again, he chocked him with his arm and began to drag him away.
“My apologies,” Lysimachus explained to the curious looks people were giving him. “One of Priya’s most dangerous stalkers. But no panic, everything is alright.”
Outside the club, he dragged Nate to a near alley where he slammed him against the wall.
“Tell me, what were you planning?! What Gaius ordered you?!”
The younger vampire started to laugh sadistically.
“I only answer to one King.”
With one punch, Lysimachus knocked him down. In his pockets he found a cell phone, where he was chatting with Harvey, waiting for his signal to detonate the bombs. In his other pocket he found the detonator, that he immediately crushed it with his hand.
After carefully trapping unconscious Nate inside a car’s trunk, he returned to The Crimson Veil, making sure there was nobody else suspicious. When he looked at the catwalk again, he spotted Priya on the backstage. She saw him too. For his surprise, she opened a smile. Lysimachus smiled back.
Seconds later, his phone vibrated.
After-party is canceled. Meet you in my VIP room after the show.
He gave her a thumbs up and she winked in response.
———-
Kamilah
“Sister, I gotta go,” Lysimachus announced. “H-He’s planning something against Priya… I must check. I’m so sorry.”
Betrayed. That’s how Kamilah felt when she heard the audio device being turned off as her brother left, back to New York. She was no longer a priority, even though her life could also be in danger. Even if Gaius could submit her to the most horrible things to prove her loyalty. Lysimachus swore he’d be there. He swore he’d protect her at any cost.
"Tell me, My Queen. Do you have any objections?”
“I couldn’t care less about Priya. We’ve only accepted her in The Council to keep her under control. Her behavior was a threat to our kind.”
She sat down at an old couch, Anya arrived, frustrated by the results of Mortals vs. Vampires. What angered Gaius even more.
“That foolish boy! He ruined my plans of a perfect new kingdom.”
“My King,” Harvey suggested, “you can take Priya’s clan members after you destroy her.”
“Good point, but…” Gaius looked at her direction again, as if for a moment he had forgotten she was there. “Kamilah, in the files you brought me. There’s no information about him! Lysimachus.”
“My brother isn’t a threat to your plans at the moment, My Love. He splits his time between Adrian’s company and Priya. He has fallen in love with her and it’s a matter of time before she gets him killed.”
Gaius stared at her blankly for a moment, thoughtful.
“He even may be useful in the future, as I can easily convince him into joining us.”
“We’ll talk about it some other time,” he approached her, cupping her face into his hands again. “You can go now, My Queen. You’ve proven your loyalty once again. Harvey will call you in the next few days with new instructions.”
Gaius disappeared into darkness again, followed by Harvey and Anya.
While Kamilah was relieved to be safe and that she could return home to Amy, her intuition was speaking louder. Gaius had something in mind and she needed to find out. Hiding in a corner of the dark basement, he could hear his conversation with the thralls. Nothing too important, until something alarmed her.
“What?!” He yelled. “But how did he…”
As nobody else responded, Kamilah assumed he was talking over a phone.
“I don’t care, Jameson. Kill her, now! Let’s see how the boy will deal with the loss of his lover! I’m gonna crush them both with a single blow.”
Before her presence could be noticed, Kamilah left the bar immediately. In her car, as she drove away, she attempted to contact her brother.
“Out of signal,” she complained.
He should be inside Priya’s club.
Guilty, she hoped nothing happened to Lysimachus, or even Priya. Would he ever forgive her for telling Gaius about their relationship? Unconsciously, she had exposed his brother’s biggest weakness to the enemy.
———-
Lysimachus
Outside Priya’s VIP room, Lysimachus waited nervously. Canceling her after-party only to meet him could be a sign she was ready to leave some of old habits behind? That she was willing to forget her tragic past for something new?
“There you are,” she opened the door with a grin on her face. “Guess the meeting with Gaius wasn’t exciting enough, huh?”
“Uhhh,” not wanting to ruin her mood, he decided to wait before telling her the truth, “I’ll tell you later, it’s a long story. So, congratulations. Your new collection… snatched wigs?”
“Shut up, Hunter! You’re too old for this.” Priya smiled and punched him slightly on the shoulder.
When Lysimachus’ eyes met hers, he noticed a difference. She looked happy, genuinely happy. Her happiness wasn’t hidden behind parties with houseboys or human blood this time.
“I have something for you,” he announced before taking a black velvet box from his jacket and handing it to Priya.
She immediately opened it and her eyes glowed in surprise.
“Only three pieces of this bracelet were produced in the world, and as I know you like to collect rare stuff.”
Priya went silent. She looked at him, then at the bracelet again, appearing anxious somehow.
“It’s uhh… stunning. But… why?”
Lysimachus took her wrist, closing the bracelet around it.
“This is what every girl deserves, after such an important night.”
She opened her mouth to say something but no words came out. He could tell her cheeks blushed a little bit.
Giving her some time to breath, Lysimachus threw himself on a very comfortable armchair, finally remembering his sister was alone with Gaius. He should return, or at least go home and wait for news.
“So, why did you want to see me?” He asked, going straight to the point.
“I wanna have that conversation,” Priya quickly answered.
“Okay, I’m listening.”
“Well, Hunter. I have everything I always wished for and maybe more, but lately, it’s not being enough. It’s started to feel empty, lonely, pointless maybe… like if there was something missing.”
“And what’s missing?”
He got up, standing face to face with the fashion designer.
“I…” Before she could finish her sentence, a lot of voices started coming from the other side of the door. “Journalists,” she rolled her eyes. “Listen, wait for me outside. I’ll be there in a few minutes and we can finish this in your apartment.”
“Of course,” Lysimachus agreed. “It’ll give us more privacy.”
Outside, the first thing he did was to call Kamilah. As expected, she didn’t answer. He ran a hand through his hair nervously, wondering if she was safe.
Twenty minutes passed when her name finally appeared on his screen.
“Kamilah, thank god! I was starting to become worried…”
“Brother, where are you?” She had a strange tone in her voice, a tone of desperation.
“At The Crimson Veil, outside. Why?”
“Gaius dismissed me, but I hid myself to listen to his plans. Brother, as soon as I left, Jameson called him to inform you prevented the explosion and…”
“And what?!”
“He told him to kill Priya immediately.”
Lysimachus dropped his phone, rushing back inside the club and straight to Priya’s VIP room. Everything had been destroyed, the floor was covered with black blood and ashes, but she was standing there, holding the daggers he gave her during their training.
“Priya! Are you okay?”
“Yeah…” she answered between weary pants. “After the journalists left, somebody delivered a giant present box. I thought it could be a new houseboy but… a horde of disgusting Ferals. Don’t worry, our training was worthy, I’ve managed to kill them all.”
“Good,” Lysimachus let out a relieved sigh. “It was Gaius. God, when Kamilah called me and told me he ordered Jameson to kill you, I…”
“Shhhh,” the female vampire approached, silencing him with her index finger. “It’s over, Hunter.”
“I got worried. I-I… I care about you, Priya. I really do.”
She pressed a kiss on his lips, while her hands traveled through his toned abdomen and down to his waist, attempting to open his belt.
“We should go home first…”
“No,” Priya whispered in his ear before nibbling his earlobe. “I want you right here, right now.”
———- MxF Smut Scene - If you don’t wanna read it, skip this part ———-
Lysimachus agreed, kissing her again, more intensely this time. She drove him to a couch, where she pushed him violently and started to unzip his pants.
Smirking, he switched positions in an impressive speed. Priya wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer and placing her mouth on his again. As their tongues moved together on a fierce, frenzied mode, his hands went under her dress, finding her underwear and tossing it aside.
“Not today, Hunter,” suddenly Priya was on top, straddling him and removing what was left of their clothes.
Lysimachus gasped as he felt her warmth involving him. As she started moving on top of him, she dragged her long nails across his chest leaving deep red marks. Lost in pleasure, the male vampire gripped tightly on her hips, increasing the pressure and rhythm between them.
“Too rough?” He wanted to know.
“Hell no, it’s perfect,” she followed his pace.
Though they had done that a lot of times before, it felt different. More intimate. The way Priya occasionally stroked his hair or how she gently kissed and sucked his neck, drove him wild. Tired from the fight against Ferals, she reached climax first, but Lysimachus also didn’t take long.
———- Ending of scene ———-
As she laid on his chest, he wrapped an arm around her body, enjoying the feeling of finally being closer to the fashion designer. Lysimachus closed his eyes when something caught his attention, a familiar smell… blood.
“Priya, did you get hurt in the fight?” He asked, concerned.
“It’s was just a scratch. It’ll be gone soon.”
He looked down at her back, spotting a deep wound on her shoulder. Not any wound but... a bite. The skin around it was starting to become grey.
“Priya, y-you… you got bitten by a Feral.”
———-
Somewhere in New Jersey…
“Master, our suspicions were right. The girl is back,” Jameson announced, removing the hood he was wearing.
“Those are splendid news, Jameson.” Gaius grinned. “Were you able to confirm if she’s indeed The One?”
“Yes, My King. A little persuasion trick and I was able to collect a sample of her blood. As we imagined, she’s Keaseth’s descendant.”
“Incredible. Soon, all the power her blood contains will be mine!”
“What about Kamilah, My King? Do you think she’ll consent with the plan?”
“Kamilah is wrapped around my finger again. Loyal as a puppy. Little does she know it’s only part of my revenge against her. Her heart will be crushed in a million pieces when I command her to sacrifice her lover.”
“And then we’ll break the hypnosis.”
“Exactly, Jameson. My Queen will be paying the highest of the prices for her betrayal.”
Next: What are Gaius’ plans for Amy? Meanwhile, Lysimachus has to face a difficult decision about Priya’s future. Stay tuned! 
Only 10 days until May! :D
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shenglingyuan · 5 years
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interview with priest from 2012
Hello! KK, the leader of GPS Translations(translation group for Imperfections) wanted to share an early interview with Priest. This one dates back to 2012! She talks about the origin of her pen name, her writing style, writing inspirations, and about “writing” smut =w=
You can listen to the audio recording here. Her voice is really cute and sweet!!!
Host(H): Why did you take Priest as your author name? Priest(P): At first, I only had a reader ID. When I registered as an author in Jinjiang(jjwxc), many of the Chinese names I tried were already taken. I took an English book randomly and used the first word I saw, which was “priest”.
H: Really? Just so casually and randomly? I thought it was religious or something like that? P: Really, really. Because I tried some Chinese names and they were all taken and the website system was asking me to add 01, 06, something like that after my Chinese name. It’s quite annoying, so I went to an English one.
H: When did you start writing? P: On the internet, probably 2007.
H: Which one of your work are you most satisfied with? P: What I’ve written, they don’t have much difference to me. I like them all so I really can’t pick up a favorite one. Maybe my favorite one would be something that I haven’t written yet. I hope in the future you can keep supporting me.
H: What genre would you like to try in the future? P: In the future, probably, some weird ancient background or modern background to express reality, I don’t know which one will I choose as my next one.
H: Can you tell us the type of the CP? P: I can tell you that but probably it will change before I finish, because I once liked zhongquan*, but now I don’t know why but I’ve been liking zhagong more. *one of the CP is very loyal to the other one, will spoil and love the other very much  and can do everything for the other *one of the CP only takes advantage of the other’s feelings, doesn’t really love the other one but only use the other half to get a good time H: I’m not really into zhagong but I think I will--- P: So you’re gonna abandon me :( H: No, I will never abandon you!!
H: Do you have an author you like, BL and BG? P: Yes, I do. I think I like quite a lot in BL, maybe I can’t speak them all out loud because if I list it, it will fill a whole paper. I’ve read a lot and I like a lot. I haven’t read BL type a lot recently. Recently I was reading Yu Hua’s book. I liked him a lot, I’m a really a big fan of him
H: So what good novels have you read recently in BL? P: I recently started liking ghost stories for no reason and I read a lot, a lot, a lot of ghost stories but it seems that most of my readers are not really into it.
H: Which one have you read? P: It’s Liu Gan.
H: Someone told me they read ‘Liu Gan’ and they got scared to sleep alone at night. P: Qing Qiu’s ‘Gui Hua Lian Pan’ is quite good. And I read another one, ‘Tong Hua Zhong Lu Si Li Xie Ji Yi Yuan Guai Tan’, and I read this one today.
H: Is there any possibility that you will write horror stories? P: I’m not sure if I’m good at it because no one told me ghost stories in my childhood, so I can just keep reading others for now.
H: An audience is asking, your work often contains a lot of imagination. The multiple subjects and content, are they related to your professional major or hobbies? Take ‘Final Blue-Signet(Zhong Ji Lan Yin)’ as an example. P: Not really related to my major but I’m kind of like a jack of all trades, master of none, so I have quite a lot of hobbies.
H: Another is asking, is Priest a STEM major? Did you feel confused when you wrote ‘Final Blue-Signet’ because of your mixed background? P: You can say so [that I’m a STEM Major]. But I hope you don’t believe my settings too much because I’m just bullshitting. But I’m not feeling confused by it because after all, I’m the one who wrote them.
H: Where did your inspiration came from for writing ‘Final Blue-Signet’? P: I was waiting in line to buy bread and there was an advertisement board opposite it. The ad has a picture that was very very very big and was very very very complicated, and then I just figured out the story for ‘Final Blue-Signet’.
H: What exactly did the picture show? Why would it make you think of ‘Final Blue-Signet’? P: Because I don’t really get the picture, and I can’t figure out why are they drawing those kind of things. I think the complicated thing is like a magical pattern. So, it’s lovely. While I was in the line and I had nothing to so, I just handed out an essay which is very complicated. Then I took out a little notebook and wrote down my settings and started to set for Final Blue-Signet.
H: What about Qi Ye(The Seventh Lord)’s inspiration? P: Actually, it was difficult to write this one. I spent a lot of time and I tried a lot of settings and dropped a lot of settings, but I cherished them so I don’t wanna give up on them. After, I just combined everything together. So the final product is like everything and unlike everything.
H: Can you describe your own writing style? P: You can say that I’m under the “bullshitting” style.
H: Why? How could you call yourself under the “bullshitting” style? P: Because I think I’m bullshitting from settings to the plot, I just make them randomly and very casually. H: So modest. P: No no no I’m really bullshitting style.
H: You must have an outline. Will you change your plot because of what the readers say to you? P: EHHH? I don’t think this question is in the rehearsal. How could you suddenly ask me this question, just because I said I had a bullshitting style? The hope was all for the best at first. I had an outline at the very beginning but almost every part of the outline can’t stand for more than 30,000 words, it just totally goes out of the outline. Whether I will be influenced by my readers ... it depends because some of my novels, I write them in advance and some I write them at the moment. Those that are written at the moment are more easily to be influenced by the readers.
H: Is Liang Jiuxiao in The Seventh Lord really dead? P: Yes, yes, yes, and yes. It’s true. H: He’s a very popular character among your readers and many of your readers think that he has something with his senior brother*? P: They are thinking too much. *this senior brother is Zhou Zishu of Faraway Wanderers/Tian Ya Ke
H:Do you have preference over the type of CP or genre? P: No I don’t have one. If you read my novels, then you’ll know I don’t have a preferred one.
H: Many of us want to ask you a question. Why is there very few sex plots in your novels? When do you plan to write more sex plots? P: There are more and there are less. Actually I wrote them, I just make them less so you can’t see it.
H: No sex plot is really being “deceitful”. P: Well I forgot to say that I’m also a “deceitful” type of writer.
H: So you just erase all the sex plot like that? P: You can say so.
H: When do you plan to write them and do you have any conditions to do it? P: One: until the day I’m finally good at it, and two: when the internet has a rating for different age.
H: You mean you’re afraid of tainting underage readers? P: Yeah, yeah, yeah … I hope that underage readers can see cute media like cartoons or something instead.
H: Another audience question: you have a very busy life, and you update very fast. How could you balance the relationship between writing, your studying, and your life? P: I’m not actually that busy, I like hanging out. I don’t write novels for a very long time a day. In a day, one to two hours tops.
H: How many words can you write in those one or two hours? P: One or two hours is enough for one or two updates.
H: How many words exactly? P: In my bad condition, about 2000 words, if I’m in good condition, more than 3000 words. H: You are so fast! P: Uhhh, right.
H: You never face the difficulty of not knowing what to write? P: I just said my style is “deceitful” plus “bullshitting” so I think this style can make me happy. Also, my stories, the quality is quite low. I have quite a lot of typos.
H: How do you name your characters in your book? P: Mostly, from dictionaries. A book is very handy, too. I think of a page number and line number, which character of the line then I open it. If it’s really weird, I will do it again. If I think it’s okay, then it’s okay.
H: So casual, just like how you chose your pen name. P: Yep yep, but I’m very loyal to the names. Because I can’t remember them all if I have a lot of names.
H: Thank you for your gentle attitude. Is there anything else you want to say to our audience? P: First of all, I wish you all a happy new year and may your wishes come true. I hope everyone can study well and can read less sex plots to protect yourselves.
H: Thank you for coming today, Priest. P: Thanks, thanks, thanks for your hard work!
H: Well thanks for your hard work too!
Priest is the author of Guardian(2012), Sha Po Lang(2015), Silent Reading(2016), Imperfections(2017), Faraway Wanderers(2010), and more. Masterlist of English translations can be found here.
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Fanfiction Reader Tag
Tagged by @eyeliner-vampire  ♡ ♡
Fanfiction Reader Tag!
1. When did you start reading Fanfic (How old you were or how long ago)?
When I was probably...11 ish? so like 13 years ago
2. Do you have an AO3 account?
Yeh (LadyWisteria)
3. Do you read WIP (work in progress)? Why or why not?
All the time. I’m not picky about this at all. I’m a simple person. I see fic I think I’ll like? I read. doesn’t matter if it’s finished or not. I’ll make up my own ending til it is lol. also authors need that encouragement. finishing stuff is hard
4. What time of day is your ‘fic reading time’?
Usually late at night (like 1 a.m. and later..much later) but sometimes I’ll waste an afternoon instead (2 p.m. ish til I either have to go to work or I finish the fic)
5. How much time do you spend reading fic per week?
Not remotely as much time as I used, that’s for sure. Anywhere from an hour (if I’m rereading That favorite fic) to 2-4 hours if my friend has sent me a longfic again.
6. Do you listen to podfic (fanfic recorded like an audiobook)?
I...didn’t even know this was a thing tbh, so no. Sounds very neat but also I don’t listen to audio books anymore bcus my attention span re: audio input has gotten so bad over the years I can’t focus for more than a few minutes. 
7. What’s your favorite fic genre to read?
AUs AUs AUs. and fantasy. and fantasy AUs (although good long AU fics are harder to find). I am a very simple person. I see magic mentioned, I read. I also read a lot of romance fic (proving once again that fanfic writing is often better than mainstream original writing, bcus romance is one of my least favorite YA/movie genres). I don’t read as much of them but I also love mystery and paranormal fics
8. Are there any genres that you tend to avoid?
Super angsty no happy ending type stuff. “Major Character Death” is an automatic nope lmao (unless the summary looks reaallyyy interesting or it was recc’d to me). Tragedy is definitely Not my thing
9. What tag(s) do you track?
I don’t track any fic tags (I stopped tracking tags at all since Tumblr changed it from “keeping track of new posts in said tag” to “dropping random posts from that tag into the middle of your dash, and usually the same three”)
10. How do you find new fic?
Nowadays I mostly just read what friends send me or the new stuff a very few writers I follow post, but sometimes I also come across stuff through Twitter or Tumblr and curiosity wins out
11. How do you organize your fic bookmarks?
I..don’t? Is this a thing people do?? If I wanna reread something I either search through my bookmarks by title/author or just. filter by fandom. 
12. Do you subscribe to authors or stories?
Yeh. I only keep up with a very select few of them though. altho part of that is due to several of them being people I followed on fanfic.net years and years ago and never unfollowed, even though our interests may no longer be the same. (the other part is me going “oh I’ll read that later” and then just. never doing it.)
13. What is your favorite fanfic trope?
fake dating and bed sharing are always good
everyone is gay. also Good
14. What kind of plot line are you always here for?
“everything’s the same but they’re soulmates” (oh my god they were soulmates)
mafia AU
MAGIC
I really like in-between scene fics too. the events and character interactions that happen off-screen. I like writing those
15. What can an author do to make you love them?
write about my faves frequently
cool AUs
write about minor characters
good sense of humor
16. What can an author do to make you avoid them?
not into mpreg fics
a/b/o fics make me super wary I usually pass on those, even if the summary looks mildly interesting. they’re rarely if ever done in a way that isn’t rapey and gross
don’t care for fics period that have rapey scenes but you’re supposed to find them romantic
adult/minor ships
characterization is a big deal to me so if I don’t like how they handle the characters, especially faves I probably won’t be back
17. What do kudos mean to you?
when I get one I have a few seconds of “oh someone kinda liked this thing I wrote” and then I carry on about my day >.>;;; (I do appreciate them tho)
18. What kind of commenter are you (No comment, short comment, keyboard smash)?
I don’t comment as often as I mean to or wish I did, but when I do they’re loong comments (I’ve passed the AO3 character limit at least once kshg)
I tend to quote favorite parts and then react to them, and I like to theorize and ask questions about character’s thoughts at a certain part or what author imagines happens before/after the fic
19. Have you ever stopped reading a fic? Why or why not?
Yes. Once because I stumbled into a very sexually explicit fic when that was. Not at all what I was expecting (I was also very young lol), I think there was a very few I quit because they were boring or very poorly written, but most often I “quit” a fic for the same reason I don’t do audio books anymore lmao: because my attention span is sht and my motivation and commitment are extremely fickle things. I either forget or just wander away for a bit and then forget. Often I mean to come back and finish it; it’s just a matter of how long it takes. (I also second hand embarrassed out of a fic so hardcore that it’s been a whole 9 months since I’ve touched it khdfgd)
20. Have you ever read a fic more than once? What is it about that fic that makes you want to read it again?
YES. This requires like a minimum 4 separate posts to really answer but:
Behind Bricks and The Penance of a Killer by Deathbelle
this person is my fricking favorite author ever and these are two of my fricking favorite fics ever, I must’ve reread Behind Bricks 6 or 8 times now and Penance is the BokuAka-centric companion piece to my favorite fic of all time that I always wanted 
Mending Bonds and If the Heart Breaks, Does That Mean There’s No Home? by RussianSunflower3 
Mending Bonds is soft found family fluff centering on a very minor fave of mine and If the Heart Breaks is very angsty found family fluff that also focuses on some minor characters and it always hurts my heart but the ending and the soft middle always heal it right back up (“[Hanamaki] has a heart big enough for everyone in the world, and then some.” ohhhh my godd)
Boiled Frogs by ReginaGalaxia 
this one is. a really hard read centered around emotional abuse and manipulation and hoooo boy it is a rough read especially if you’ve experienced any of that personally but it’s so well written and the character dynamics are great and in its lighter moments it’s fricking hilarious. 
(bits and pieces of) The Roost by Ugglabarn 
 bits and pieces only bcus Roost has a lot of very heavy dark content that I’d have to be in a specific mood to reread the whole thing because it hurts my heart way too much but also it’s one of the best Fukurodani-centric longfics I’ve ever read (PLUS AN AU..!!) and I love love how they write the characters and how much focus there is on the minor members and ships and in its lighter moments Roost is also really funny the most recent chapter was hilarious
Expensive Hotel by Crown_of_Winterthorne
smut. explicit smut. excellent explicit smut with loving polyamorous boyfriends and plenty of consent discussion and kissing. my entire jam right there
Class 1-A Whomst? by Ya_Boi_Hal
this is the funniest chatfic I’ve ever read in my life and the first good chatfic I ever read. absolutely hysterical. also has some really good serious content in the middle and some Aizawa dialogue that punched me right in the feels. 12/10 will read again. sometimes I just randomly say “Mineta whomst??” and cackle to myself
and back in the day it was:
The Flame of Betrayal by DataIntegrationThoughtEntity
I guess traitor! Tahu was a popular trope back when Bionicle fandom was at its peak?? and not everyone liked it apparently but I enjoyed this fic greatly every time I read it it was well written and had interesting OCs and I am actually highly tempted to go reread it again
and Asleep Beneath a Wheat Field by Feline Freak
this was a very peculiar little OC-centric one shot that was also very sad and I don’t know why it grabbed me like it did but I remember rereading it 3 or 4 times at least
21. Do you like sequels?
The fics I like don’t usually come with sequels but The Penance of a Killer is one so Yes
22. Do you like dabbles?
I guess? I haven’t read too many I don’t think but hey, more fic is more fic. Who’s gonna complain about that?
23. What do you wish more fic authors would do?
Write about minor characters more
24. What do you wish more authors would stop doing?
that thing where they latch onto one facet of a character’s personality - or worse, one that fandom made up - and write them as if that’s the only trait they have
25. Do you like one-shots or multi-chapter?
Multi-chapter. I mean both are great obviously but the majority of my faves are multi-chapter and obviously if I like a fic I’m gonna wanna spend as much time in that universe as possible
26. How long do you like chapters to be?
Usually I feel the longer the better. once in a while I’ll hit one that’s so long it’s kind of distracting but extremely rarely
27. What’s your favorite POV (point of view) to read (first, second, third)?
Third
28. What do you think of OC’s?
I didn’t use to care for them very much but as I started reading fic by more advanced writers I found several I really liked. have a very small list of OCs from recent fics I’ve read I would actually kill a man for I love them so much
29. Do you download fic?
No, but seeing as my absolute favorite Bionicle fic vanished off the face of the earth several years ago and I cannot find anything about it an y wh ere sometimes I think about saving my faves. I never got to finish reading that fic and I am absolutely devastated every time I think about it. 
30. Tell me something else about your fic reading! Anything else!
best thing is when my friend and I buddy read a fic and send each other our favorite parts
Tag!
@yaelathewordsmith and @samantha-girlscout  ♡ ♡ ♡
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