#and the man and the home and the car and the lifestyle too bitch

[financeprincess]

Get over the shame and the lack of confidence and the fear of failure and the imposter syndrome. Nobody cares. Some people are cruel and mean and love to watch others fail. So what? Do you really want to prove them right? Get the fuck up, we’re chasing our dreams like our lives depend on it because, in case you forgot, they do.

#wake up girlies it’s time to get this bread #and the man and the home and the car and the lifestyle too bitch

[storiesforallfandoms]

new toy ~ felix catton;saltburn

word count: 5901

request?: no

description: when he brings a girl home for the summer, she finds herself struggling to fit into his lifestyle

pairing: felix catton x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of parent deaths, farleigh being a catty rich bitch (affectionate), feelings of insecurity and inadequacy, little bit of angst, things get steamy but no actual smut in this one

masterlist (one, two, three)

Venetia rushed to the window of her bedroom as she heard the car carrying her brother pulling up the drive. The family had been made aware that Felix was bringing a friend home for the summer. Not that anyone had to tell them. Felix often had a new sad sack in tow whenever he came home from school, who would never be seen again once they returned to school at the end of the summer. Venetia had tried to get some information on this new friend from Farleigh, but her cousin said he hadn't seen anyone new hanging out with Felix during the school year. She was itching to get a peak at Felix's newest toy.

She gasped and turned to Farleigh, who was looking at her in curiosity. "It's a girl!"

(Y/N) stepped out of the car as Felix excitedly talked away. She looked at the giant house with wide eyes. She knew Felix had money; his parents were paying his way through college after all, meanwhile (Y/N) was a scholarship kid. But she never could've imagined he was this level of rich. His house was a goddamn castle!

She was wondering if it was too late to back out of Felix's offer to stay over.

An older man dressed in a black suit opened the front door as (Y/N) and Felix approached. (Y/N) stopped suddenly as the man's glare landed on her.

"Duncan!" Felix exclaimed. "How are you, you serious old brute?"

"Good to see you, master Felix. This is your new...friend?"

The way he said it made (Y/N) wince.

Felix turned to her and threw an arm around her shoulders. "Don't be frightened, (Y/N). This is my family butler, Duncan. He looks terrifying, but his bark is worse than his bite."

(Y/N) tried to smile at Duncan, but he merely continued to stare her down. She shrunk into Felix's embrace, which, luckily, the taller boy noticed her discomfort and brought her into the house. With his arm still around her, Felix brought (Y/N) around the giant house. There was so much to see, so much to know. There was simply no way she'd remember it all. She expected to get lost just trying to get to the bathroom.

Luckily, that wouldn't be a problem at least, as Felix led her into his room. "Your room is just through here. We'll be sharing a bathroom. Hope you don't mind."

She was glad he wasn't facing her so he missed the look on her face at his statement.

Felix threw the door to her room open with a flourish before turning to her. "And this is where you'll be staying. Don't worry about unpacking, the butlers will do that for you. It has a nice view of the garden and such, and I'm just next door past the bathroom, as you've already seen."

He flopped down onto her bed and stretched out so he was taking up the entire bed. (Y/N) pushed his leg over a bit so she could sit next to him. "It's a lot to take in."

"I know," Felix said. He rolled onto his side to look up at her. "It'll feel like a lot, but I promise my family will love you. And if it gets overwhelming, I'll be here."

He put his hand on her leg. She looked down at it, the heat from where his hand was touching rising from that spot all the way up to her face. Her entire body felt like it had been ignited by a simple gesture to try and bring her comfort. She wondered if Felix knew what he did to her.

She tried not to let her disappointment show as Felix stood, removing his hand from her leg.

"I'll let you unwind or whatever," he said. "Dinner isn't until 5, so you have plenty of time to yourself until then. You brought a dress, right?" She nodded. "Good. Mum and dad insist on fancy dinner wear. It's a little embarrassing. I'll be in my room if you need anything."

And just like that, he was gone. (Y/N) sighed and fell back onto the bed.

This definitely was not how she expected to spend her summer. She had started her time at Oxford as an outcast, a scholarship loser among a sea of rich kids. She tired not to let it get to her. Getting into Oxford at all was a big deal, (Y/N) knew to be proud of that. But that didn't make the whispers and dirty looks directed towards her any easier to take.

She didn't seek out friendship with anyone, let alone with Felix. Of course, she had noticed Felix. Who wouldn't? He was beautiful and had charm for days. Everyone loved him. But (Y/N) knew better than to try and approach him. They were from two completely different worlds, and (Y/N) knew she didn't belong in his world.

To her surprise, it was Felix who initiated first contact.

They were in an English class together. Felix had sat next to her one day and asked, "Did you finish the reading for today?" (Y/N) was so shocked that he had spoken to her that she could only nod in response. "Can you summarize it for me? I tried to read it but it was so fucking boring."

Apparently, that one act of kindness was enough to consider (Y/N) a friend. Felix invited her to sit with him at the bar, to come study in his room, to go to the "invite only" parties on campus. His other rich friends didn't seem to enjoy her company, but he did and that's all that mattered.

When (Y/N) told Felix she had nowhere to go for the summer, he invited her to come stay with him and his family in Saltburn. He refused to take no for an answer. So now here she was, in a bedroom that only had a bathroom to separate her and the boy she had started developing feelings for but knew she couldn't have, in a house the size of a castle owned by a family who mad more money than she'd ever see in her life.

She let out another sigh for good measure before sitting up. She still had plenty of time before dinner, but she wanted to make sure she was presentable to meet Felix's family for the first time. She got up and went to the bathroom, locking the door that led to Felix's room just in case. There was no shower, so she had to opt for a bath. She tried to be quick, but once she had laid in the oversized tub and allowed the hot water to engulf her, she never wanted to get out. Maybe she could spend the entire summer in the tub instead of dealing with Felix's family.

When the water began to go cold, she reluctantly got out and returned to her room. She had packed the limited amount of makeup she owned just in case there were any formal gatherings she needed to dress up for. Now she was definitely glad she had if dinner was meant to be a formal thing. She did her makeup carefully to make sure it was perfect, then dug through her bag for the dress she had packed. It wasn't anything super fancy, just a royal blue, off the shoulder dress with a pleated skirt that came down just above the knee. It was the nicest dress she owned, so eh hoped it would suffice.

There was still some time before dinner, but (Y/N) figured it was time to meet the family.

She stepped out of her room and realized she had no idea where to go to find the dining room.

"Need help?"

(Y/N) jumped and turned to see Duncan stood, blank faced yet again, looking at her,

"Yes please," she responded, her voice soft.

"Follow me," Duncan told her. He didn't wait to see if she was following, she she quickly troted along behind him to keep up.

The Catton family was sat around the dinner table already when Duncan led (Y/N) into the room. All eyes turned to her when she walked in. She suddenly felt very self conscious and wished she was back in the hot, welcoming bath tub.

Until she caught Felix looking at her as if she were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid his eyes on.

"Oh, Felix, darling," an older woman sat at the head of the table - Felix's mom - said. "She is absolutely beautiful."

His mom stood from her seat and quickly approached (Y/N). She gently cupped (Y/N)'s cheeks. (Y/N) tensed, unsure of what to do. Mrs. Catton didn't seem to notice, or if she did she didn't let on.

"Honey, you didn't tell us how beautiful she was," Mrs. Catton said to her son.

"You never believe me," Felix retorted.

Mrs. Catton turned back to (Y/N). "Welcome, darling. We're very happy to have you here. You can call me Lady Elspeth." She took (Y/N)'s hands and squeezed them, then gestured towards the table. "We left a seat free next to Felix for you. Come, sit. Dinner will be served soon."

(Y/N) quickly moved to the table, oping to no longer be the center of attention. Felix was still smiling at her as she sat down next to him.

"You do look beautiful," he said.

Her face started heating up. "Thank you."

Across from them, a throat cleared. Felix glanced up at his cousin. (Y/N) didn't miss the subtle change in Felix's expression. "(Y/N), this is my cousin, Farleigh, and my sister, Venetia."

"Oh, I know Farleigh," she said, looking over at the other young man. He gave her an obviously forced smile. "I-I mean, I know of Farleigh. I've seen you around on campus."

"Weird that I haven't seen you. It's not like Felix to hide his friends away," Farleigh said.

"I wasn't hiding her away." Felix's face was tense. (Y/N) wondered what the story between him and Farleigh was. They seemed to get along well on campus, or at least Farleigh was in Felix's friend group.

Dinner was served, thus breaking up the tense moment. A plate was placed in front of everyone and they all began to eat. (Y/N) tried not to draw too much attention to herself, but she knew her presence alone was drawing attention. Both Farleigh and Venetia weren't very subtle with the way they were staring at her.

"So, (Y/N)," Elspeth said after a few moments of silence, "what is it you're studying at Oxford?"

"English," (Y/N) responded. "I'd like to be a writer when I graduate, but I know that's not an entirely realistic dream so I'm aiming to be an English teacher as a backup."

"Oh, writing! That's wonderful, darling!" Elspeth said. (Y/N) was somewhat shocked that Elspeth seemed genuine with her interest. "Have you written anything yet?"

"A few short stories." She shrugged. "Nothing major."

"'Nothing major'?" Felix questioned. "She's won contests with her short stories! Remember, you told me one of your stories was published in an anthology of short stories when you were still in high school?"

Elspeth and Felix's dad, Sir James, were impressed, while (Y/N) was surprised that Felix had remembered her telling him that. He was smiling down at her in pride and she couldn't help but smile back at him.

"Is that how you got your scholarship?" Farleigh asked. The look on his face told (Y/N) that his question wasn't as genuine as Elspeth's had been.

"Farleigh," Felix sneered.

"What? I was just asking. It's not like it's a secret that she's a scholarship kid. There's no shame in needing some financial help."

"You would know, wouldn't you?"

"Boys," James said, his voice stern in warning.

Dinner fell quiet after that. (Y/N) pushed her food around her plate, suddenly no longer hungry. She was back to wishing she could melt away into the floor and never be seen again. Maybe it wasn't too late to just go back to the school and stay in the dorms alone for the summer.

Once she had finished eating, she politely excused herself and went back to her room. She had paid enough attention when Duncan showed her to the dining room that she made it back with no issue. The minute the door closed behind her, she let out a sigh. A lump had started to form in her throat, but she was refusing to let herself cry. Even now while she was alone, she didn't want to give in to these feelings. She had to be strong, at least until she could get her things together and figure out a way back to the school.

As Felix had told her, the butlers had unpacked her bag while she was at dinner. It took her a moment to find her pajamas and makeup remover. She pulled on an oversized shirt she had packed to wear on the warm nights and was leaned over the dresser to start taking off her makeup, the shirt riding up just enough, when the door connecting her and Felix suddenly opened. Felix walked in, still in his suit from dinner, except he had removed his tie and the top few buttons had been undone. (Y/N) quickly stood up straight, pulling her shirt down to cover her ass.

"Don't you knock?" she asked.

"No, why would I?" he said.

"What if I was changing?"

"You weren't."

She rolled her eyes and went back to taking her makeup off, this time more cautious about how much of her was being exposed with Felix in the room.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry about how Farleigh acted during dinner," Felix said.

(Y/N) paused for a moment. She glanced at Felix through the mirror. He was looking up at her with an expression that told her his apology was genuine.

"It's alright," she said.

"No, it wasn't alright. He shouldn't be saying those things about you. It's not like he's much different. My parents have financially supported him for years and let him stay here for free. At least you earned your scholarship, he only got his way in life because of his family."

"So did you, though." There was a beat, and (Y/N) quickly turned to face Felix. "Wait, I didn't mean - "

"No, you're right," he cut her off. "My parents have financially helped me, too. You're the only one among us who has really earned your spot at Oxford. It's not fair of Farleigh to try and make you feel small because you come from a different background."

(Y/N) wanted to tell him it wasn't just Farleigh, it was everyone at Oxford. Even Felix's own friend group had shunned (Y/N) when he introduced her to them. It felt like Felix was the only one who truly wanted to befriend (Y/N).

"You don't have to apologize for him," she said instead. "But I appreciate that you'd want to."

"You're my friend. I didn't bring you here to be insulted by my obnoxious cousin, I brought you here because I wanted you to spend the summer with us."

Friend.

Even though she knew that's all they were, it still stung to hear him say it. She wanted so much more than that, but it was wishful thinking to believe that Felix cause ever want more than that.

"I...I think I'm gonna just...get in bed."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "It's still only early."

"I know. All the travel just has me feeling pretty worn out."

"Okay."

He stood and (Y/N) expected him to go back to his room. When he started to unbutton his shirt more, her eyes nearly popped out of her head.

"What are you doing?!"

"I was going to stay over here tonight. If you were okay with that, that is."

"You're supposed to ask these things before you just start undressing."

Felix chuckled as (Y/N) turned her back to him. "You really don't want to watch as I undress?"

Of course I want to watch! "I'm just...trying to be courteous."

He laughed again. (Y/N) could hear the sounds of his clothes hitting the floor. She wondered why he hadn't at least gone back to his room to get a pair of pajamas. At least pajama pants. She was starting to get the feeling that at home, Felix didn't have to ask many questions, and that also extended towards his guests.

"Okay, I am covered."

When she turned back, he was under the covers of her bed, his hands behind his head so she could see that he was at least shirtless under there.

"The bed is big enough for us to share," he said, reading the shocked look on her face. "That is, again, if you don't mind."

"N-No. I-I guess that's fine."

(Y/N) crawled into bed next to Felix. She tried to put as much distance between the two of them as she could but, despite what Felix said, the bed certainly was not that big. She could still feel the heat from his body as she turned onto her side, her back to him. She could feel his nearness. And she could feel the fact that he was only wearing his boxers.

"You don't have to stay, you know," she said. "I'm not going to slip away during the night or something."

He bed shook a little as he laughed. "I know. I just wanted to stay over here. At the very least, I want to make sure you don't have any issues sleeping. I always find I struggle when I'm trying to sleep in a new place."

(Y/N) rolled onto her other side so that she could face Felix. The full moon was shining through the window, illuminating his face. He turned his head to look down at her.

"I really appreciate everything you've done for me, Felix," she said, her voice so soft it was nearly a whisper.

He smiled. "Get some sleep, (Y/N). I don't intend on having a boring day tomorrow if the weather is nice."

~~~~~~

When (Y/N) woke up the next morning, she completely forgot where she was. The bed was far too soft to be the one in her dorm at Oxford, and it was certainly too hot to be just a normal day during the schooling semester.

Not to mention the fact that there was a body laying under her.

(Y/N)'s eyes snapped open as she realized her head was resting on Felix's chest, and his arm around wrapped around her. At some point in the night, they must've shifted so that they were cuddling. (Y/N) wasn't sure if she should pull away or stay where she was. What would Felix's reaction be when he woke up and found them both in such a compromising position?

A knock came at her door. "Miss. (Y/N)?"

It was Duncan's voice. Now she was definitely panicking.

"Just checking if you're awake," he added.

"Uh...yeah! I am Duncan!" she called back.

"Breakfast is being served in ten minutes. Do wake up master Felix and let him know as well. His mother will want him to punctual since she didn't get as much time with him last night."

Her face burned. She wondered if Duncan knew Felix was in here with her, or if he meant for her to go over to Felix's room to wake him.

The sound of footsteps retreating down the hallway told her that Duncan had walked away. She let out a breath, relaxing into Felix's side yet again. She felt him move beneath her and she quickly pulled out of his arms before he started to wake up.

She was shocked at how beautiful he looked in the morning. The same perfect beauty he had when he fell asleep. Not a single hair out of place, no drool on his lips, no sleepy gunk in his eyes. It was really unfair just how perfect he really was.

His eyes slowly blinked open and he smiled when he saw (Y/N) looking down at him. "Good morning."

"Morning," she said. "Uh, Duncan was just here. He said breakfast is in ten minutes."

Felix groaned. "I don't want to get up yet. Why does mum have to have breakfast so early?"

(Y/N) looked at the clock hung on the wall. "It's almost 10am."

"Far too early to wake up in the summer."

She couldn't help but chuckle a little. Felix stretched his arms out and sat up as well. His face was suddenly very close to hers, almost too close.

"I suppose I should get ready for breakfast then," he said.

"Is there any dress code for breakfast?"

He shook his head. "Not for breakfast, but the dress code for today's events is a bathing suit. Once we finish eating, I'm taking you down to the lake."

~~~~~~

A few hours later, (Y/N) was following Felix towards the lake next to his house. It was a scorching hot day outside. One that was definitely better spent in the cooling water instead of cooped up inside.

Farleigh and Venetia were already by the lake. Farleigh was laid back on a towel, reading some book, while Venetia was sat by the lake with her feet in the water. She looked over her shoulder as she heard the two approach and smiled.

"Well, here they are!" she announced. "Finally you're here."

"Pull up a towel," Farleigh said, not looking up from his book.

(Y/N) went to sit on the grass, but Venetia called, "Not you! You're joining me down here. I've been surrounded by this testosterone for far too long."

She wasn't about to argue. She was already coated in sweat just from walking down from the house. (Y/N) sat beside Venetia and placed her feet in the water. The sudden cold was like a shock to her system, but definitely a welcome one.

"So, (Y/N)," Venetia said, "tell me, how did you and my brother meet?"

"We were in class together," (Y/N) responded. "I helped him with an assigned reading he had trouble with."

"Saved my ass from failing that surprise test the professor gave us," Felix added.

"It wasn't a surprise, he told us about it the class before," (Y/N) said.

"I wasn't there that class, so it was a surprise to me."

"Was that the day you were too hungover after a dorm party on a Sunday night?" Farleigh asked.

"A Sunday?!" (Y/N) laughed.

"It was a surprise party for one of my friends in the dorm," Felix responded. "He had gone home for the weekend so we had to have the party that Sunday. I didn't plan to get fucked up that night."

"You never do," Farleigh commented.

"What about your family, (Y/N)?" Venetia interrupted. "Are they okay with you spending your summer with a load of strangers?"

Felix opened his mouth to deter his sister from asking, but (Y/N) cut him off by saying, "My parents are dead."

A silence fell over them. Venetia looked a mixture of horrified and sad. Farleigh lowered his book to look over at (Y/N). Felix was trying not to look at any of them while (Y/N) was fixing her attention on the water in front of her. She was running her feet back and forth, disrupting the otherwise calm water.

"They died when I was ten," she continued. "Car accident, drunk driver. I've lived with my grandparents since then, but my grandpa died a year ago and my gran is starting to develop dementia. When I got accepted into Oxford, I made a deal with the Dean that I could stay on campus during the summers until I could afford my own place."

Venetia looked like she was about to cry. (Y/N) suddenly wished she had lied and made up some story about her parents.

"Way to ruin the moon, V," Farleigh commented.

"I didn't know!" Venetia retorted.

"No, it's fine," (Y/N) cut off their bickering. "It's tough, but I've had years to come to terms with all the death, and gran is in a nursing home now so she's being taken care of. I don't want anyone to tip toe around me like I'm made of glass."

As if to make her point, (Y/N) pushed off the edge of the lake and into the water. She shrieked as the cold engulfed her. Venetia followed suit, and soon enough both of them had convinced Farleigh and Felix to get into the water as well. The conversation was long forgotten as they swam around, splashing one another as if they were children.

~~~~~~

That night, (Y/N) was sat in the garden underneath her bedroom window. With the sun gone down, the air had cooled off, but only slightly. The room was still too stuffy for her, and opening the window just made it worse, so she opted to sit out in the cool air before she tried to sleep again.

Footsteps approached and she expected it to be Felix. When she turned, she was surprised to see Venetia instead, dressed in a sheer nightgown and carrying a lit cigarette between her fingers.

"Mind if I sit?" Venetia asked.

"I feel like I should be the one asking you that, considering it's your house."

Venetia chuckled and sat next to her.

(Y/N)'s first impression of Venetia had been wrong, and she was kind of glad it had been. She thought that, like Farleigh, Venetia was also going to be a little catty and condescending towards her. But after their day by the lake, she felt a sort of kinship with Venetia. They were the only two young girls at Saltburn, they had to look out for one another at the very least.

"So, how are you enjoying your stay so far?" Venetia asked.

"It's lovely here," (Y/N) said. "Much better than spending the summer at the Oxford campus along. At least there's a lot of the house to explore, and at least two people who seem to want me here."

"Three, if you count mum. She's ecstatic to have you. If you're not careful, she might just try and adopt you."

"I wouldn't complain."

Venetia took a drag from her cigarette and blew the smoke into the air. "And, um...has Felix been treating you well?"

(Y/N) looked over at her with confusion. "I'd...say more than well. Why?"

"I just..." Venetia leaned over, resting her arms against her legs. "I'm not saying this to try and scare you or anything. I truly like you, (Y/N), and I just want to warn you because I know how my brother is. He often takes someone who is a little more...damaged than him under his wing and brings them back here for a few months. But once the summer ends, or once he's lost interest, he casts them aside for whatever new shiny toy catches his attention."

Venetia's words hit (Y/N) like a ton of bricks. She had been telling herself for months since meeting Felix that their friendship was too good to be true, that he was going to realize he was making a mistake and move on. But when he didn't, when he asked her back to his house for the summer, she thought that maybe she was wrong. Maybe he actually did care for her and wanted to be friends with her. She had a tiny glimmer of hope that maybe this summer would bring them closer together, that they could become more than just friends.

If anyone would know how Felix was, it would be Venetia. She was his sister. She had seen a lifetime of the way Felix acted with friends. If she was warning her of the possibility that Felix might toss her aside once the summer ended, then she felt inclined to believe Venetia.

"Again, I'm not telling you this as a way to make you upset," Venetia added. "Trust me, I want nothing more than for you to stay with us for the summer. I just really do not want you to get hurt if that's what happens with Felix."

Tears were forming in (Y/N)'s eyes again. She was having a harder time at fighting them than the night before after all Farleigh had said to her. She quickly stood and murmured a "goodnight" to Venetia before rushing back inside the house. She got to her bedroom just in time for the tears to start falling.

Stupid! You're so stupid for thinking you belonged here in his world. You're nothing more than a charity case for him!

(Y/N) sunk to the floor and buried her head in her hands. She cried and cried until the tears dried up and she was essentially dry sobbing. Her eyes felt heavy and her body was aching from being on the floor for so long. She just wanted to go to back to the school and pretend this entire trip never happened.

When she finally coaxed herself to stand, (Y/N) went to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth before bed. She looked at herself in the mirror and winced. Her eyes were swollen and red, her cheeks were flush, and there were tear stains on her cheeks from crying. She grabbed a face cloth and wet it down with warm water. Before she could start wiping her face, the door leading to Felix's room opened. She froze, the wet cloth in her hands.

"Hey," Felix said. She thought for a moment that he hadn't noticed her state, until suddenly he was beside her. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said, wincing again at the sound of her horse voice.

"You don't look or sound fine."

She began to wipe her face, trying to ignore Felix's presence. As she rinsed the face cloth again, she said, "I think I'm going to call the Dean tomorrow to ask if my room is still available at the school, then look into getting the next train back to Oxford as soon as possible."

"What? Why? I thought you wanted to stay."

(Y/N) shook her head. "I don't belong here, Felix. This is your world, not mine. I'm just the girl with dead parents and a scholarship, struggling to figure out how or if I'll ever be financially stable enough to live on my own once the school kicks me out."

"What did Farleigh say to you?"

"It wasn't Farleigh!" she snapped, finally turning to face him. "It was Venetia! She told me that you don't let people stick around for long. That you take in the charity cases and toss them aside when you're bored. And I knew that's what was happening with me, I knew there was no way you could possibly want to be friends with me, but I was also stupid enough to let myself believe that maybe it was all real. That maybe you actually cared and you actually wanted me here!"

She was crying again. She must've looked and sounded insane. She wished she had never accepted Felix's offer to come here. She could only imagine what he would say about her when she left the next day.

"I'm not staying here and waiting to be hurt, Felix," she said. "You may think it's fun to toy with people's emotions, but I don't. Not when I trusted you in telling you about my parents, about my stories, about my sad little poor life."

She had more to say, although she wasn't sure if any of it would've made sense, but Felix cut her off before she could. He took hold of her face and pulled her in for a kiss. It surprised her at first and she pulled away almost immediately. He looked down at her, worried, like he was scared he had just crossed a line. When her brain finally caught up to what was happening, she quickly leaned back in to kiss him again.

Her hands held on to his shirt while one of his still cupped her face and the other started to move down her body. With one quick movement, he had lifted her up onto the counter and wrapped her legs around his waist. Her hands moved to tangle into his hair. His tongue moved across her bottom lip, silently asking for entrance to her mouth. She realized he was commando under his pajama pants when she felt him pressed against her, the only layer between being her panties as she was once again in the oversized shirt she had worn the night before.

Felix broke away first. She tried to follow him, but he held her back, a playful grin on his face.

"I don't want you to go," he said. "I want you here. Not just for this summer, but every summer from now on. I want you in my dorm room back at school, and eventually in my own place when we finish with school. I want you, (Y/N). You're not some toy to me."

"How long have you felt like this?" she asked.

"Since before I spoke to you in class that first day."

"Why did you wait so long to tell me?"

"I kept chickening out. Every girl I've been with has only wanted me for my money, or my looks, or both. No one has ever really cared for me as a person. When you did, it almost intimidated me. I needed to know for sure you'd be here for the long run, so I brought you home to see how you'd react to everything."

"Am I passing the test?"

He chuckled and kissed her again. "With flying colors."

She couldn't get enough of him; of his lips, his smile, his body against hers, his hands on her. She wanted all of him all the time. She suddenly never wanted to leave either of their rooms for the rest of the summer.

"You can still go back to school if you feel uncomfortable here. I wouldn't blame you there," he said. "But if you're going back, I'm coming with you."

She shook her head. "I couldn't take you away from your family."

"Then stay. I want you to be here, too. I want to be with you."

She grinned cheekily back at him. "If you're going to beg, you should be on your knees at least."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "If that's what you want."

She wanted all of him all the time, but she decided not to say that just yet. She was still a little cautious. She had to make sure Felix meant what he was saying, even if she felt deep down that he was. He needed to prove himself to her before she opened up that much to him.

But for now, she would definitely take the sight of him on his knees, his face between her legs as his hands pushed the shirt up around her hips.

#felix catton #felix catton x reader #felix catton imagine #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi imagine #saltburn #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[shawtuzi]

heyy idk if you do requests but if you do, can you PLEASE do plug!eren or plug!connie actually using or aiming his glock at someone 😩 n y/n gets so turned on

hello bb the answer to both your questions is yes!!! requests are always open but i might take a while to get to them <\3 btw idk why i make jean the villain in almost every eren fic i write i literally love him sm

this is 18+///cw include: black coded reader, drug usage, slight possessiveness, MAJOR GUN KINK, kinda cervix fucking, more bad writing

it was very rare for eren to use his glock ever. yes he was a dealer but he tried to keep the violence of that lifestyle out of his and your lives. your safety was his top priority and he’d be damned if you got hurt because of something that had to do with him, but of course the one time he had to use it you were with him witnessing everything.

everything was going perfect. the two of you were walking back from the park blazed and full from the sandwiches and other snacks you packed for your picnic. eren had his arm wrapped around your shoulders while yours was wrapped around his waist, your other hand swinging the small wicker basket you used to carry the food back and forth.

“aye eren!” you heard someone yell instantly feeling eren tense up. you looked to the side but eren kept you straight picking up his walking pace, “just keep walking” he spoke in a hushed tone pulling your body incredibly close to his. “what you ignoring me now jaeger? what’s the rush to get home?” you heard the person yell once again and now you were beginning to worry.

you’d never seen eren be so skittish before and it made the uneasy feeling in your stomach grow bigger by the second, increasing tenfold when you realized these people had no intentions of leaving you alone. “what do you want jean?” eren spoke in a monotone voice never once looking over or stopping his fast face. you nearly tripped over you feet when you heard eren say the persons name. eren was a very unproblematic man never being the one to entertain pointless arguments, but there was something about jean that made eren want to pop a cap in his every time he heard his voice.

“heard you were talking a lot a shit, there something you need to say to my face playboy?” eren could’ve easily handled this by pulling him out the car and beat his ass but he held himself back, fearing that this side you’ve never seen of him would be too much to handle. eren made a vow to himself one night after the two of you smoked —still friends and still getting acquainted— that he would never involve you in this life. the thought of any of the sketchy weirdos he’s met making you uncomfortable makes him homicidal to say the least.

“nothing that i already haven’t said to your face playboy now if you don’t mind i’m busy,” your heart was now beating incredibly fast and your mind was racing a mile a minute you hadn’t even noticed the bruising grip eren now had on your arm. jean kissed his teeth looking you up and down, “oh i see…this your bitch here? why don’t you send her my way when you’re done i like em’ thick too.” eren stopped dead in this tracks whipping your body behind him as he turned toward jeans car and that’s when you felt it. the glock 43 you thought he usually kept in his glove box or safe tucked behind his back.

“fuck did you say?” eren asked his voice dropping two octaves. at this point all he could see was red. it was one thing to roll up on a man and his woman but it was a whole other thing to lust after her and call her a bitch right in front of his face.

“i said send your bitch my way when you’re done.”

it all happened so fast. one minute to you holding onto eren for dear life, the next you were pushed away eren now holding the glock right in jeans face. it was a clean shot right between the eyes. now of course eren knew better knowing jean wasn’t even worth the murder charge, but jean didn’t know that. “woah woah- hey i was just playin’ eren!” the smirk jean was once sporting now gone and replaced with a look of pure fear. “i tried giving you a chance to leave but you never know when to quit to do you?” eren chuckled dryly his index finger resting lightly on the trigger.

jean didn’t even get a chance to respond before eren told him to get the fuck on leaving an obnoxious tire screech behind him. the ringing in his ears had stopped his attention now solely focused on making sure you were okay. eren tucked the glock away once more turning to you, “i’m sorry i did that he just gets on my nerves so fucking bad and then him calling you a bitch just-“ he was cut off by you bringing him in for a soul searing kiss. “it’s okay eren really, thank you for sticking up for me” you gave him another kiss lightly sucking on his bottom lip.

eren chuckled grabbing you lightly by your jaw, “don’t tell me that shit got you in the mood” he asked in a teasing tone running his thumb over your lips. “maybe just a little” you giggled pressing a small kiss to his thumb before taking it into your mouth lightly sucking. “oh really? let’s get you home then i’ll take care of you ma.”

not even 20 minutes later eren had you bent over on the couch in his apartment moaning and whining like a bitch in heat. “erennn” you whimpered bringing a hand back to push against his pelvis but eren just smacked your hand away with his free hand while the other held blunt. after the jean situation eren needed to regroup and what better way to do that than pussy and a blunt???

he glanced at the glock that sat on the coffee table a sadistic smirk gracing his kiss swollen lips. eren grabbed you by your throat pushing your body flush against his chest, “hold this for me will you?” he asked setting the blunt between your lips. suddenly you felt something hard and cold press against the side of your head and you immediately knew what it was. “oh shit you like that huh? felt you get real tight around me,” he grunted snatching the blunt from your trembling lips. “y-yes i love it” you sighed dreamily moving your hips to meet his shallow thrusts.

eren set the blunt in a nearby ashtray before wrapping his hand around your throat while the hand holding the glock pressed it harder against your head. “god what do you think people would say if they found out you get turned on watching me threaten people with this? or how you’re on the verge of cumming just from me holding it to your fucking head huh?” you didn’t even have an answer to his question not because you were too embarrassed to answer, but because the combination of his tip brushing against your cervix, the glock against your head, and his rough grip on your neck left you a brainless drooling mess.

you were slightly brought back into reality when you felt the cool metal of the glock press against your lips, immediately opening your mouth to let him slide it in. “i know how much you like when i do this so go ‘head baby suck it like it’s my dick,” eren chuckled darkly nibbling on the lobe of your ear. your knees were becoming terribly weak and if it wasn’t for eren holding you up by your neck you would’ve fallen fast first into the couch cushions.

four orgasms later eren had finally let up giving you a break before he started the next round. he was now on his back while you sat on his dick, a blunt being passed between the two of you. “suck it one more time f’me wanna get this shit on camera,” he giggled taking a hit of the blunt while his other hand held his phone. “okay okay since you asked so nicely,” you happily grabbed the glock once more licking it from the bottom of the barrel to the top suckling on the tip of it like you would his cock.

eren zoomed in on the way your plush lips sucked on the glock, swirling your tongue around it extra slowly making his dick twitch. you let go of the barrel with a lewd pop noise before setting it aside once more a bashful smile making its way onto your face.

“man i fucking love you y/n.”

#eren <3 #plug!eren #eren smut #eren yeager smut #eren jaeger smut #aot smut #aot imagines #attack on titan smut #eren yeager #snk eren #snk smut #eren yeager imagines #eren jaeger imagines #my writing

[haus-seeblick]

Suptober Day 2! "The Perfect Pillow"

Rating: Teen and Up

Ship: (Pre-)Castiel/Dean Winchester

Tags: Literal Talk About Pillows, Early Seasons, Flirting (kind of), Dean Wants Comfort, Castiel Wants Dean Winchester to be Happy, Humor, Pining, Horny Dean Winchester, Hand Kink, Crack and Humor, this is silly, Sleepy Dean

Summary: Dean cannot get comfortable on this awful, lumpy motel pillow. Castiel senses his distress and arrives to help him out. He takes the task very seriously.

Read under the cut, or on ao3 here!

Dean huffs a grumpy sigh and wriggles around under the covers once again, trying to reposition himself in a way that doesn’t leave his neck aching. The damn lumpy pillow on this motel bed is the absolute worst kind — way too soft and way too thin, providing neither support nor comfort. It’s infuriating.

Sam doesn’t understand Dean’s choosiness about pillows. Whenever Dean grumbles about one, Sam points out that they spend most of their nights sleeping in a car that doesn’t even have headrests. 

“That’s different,” Dean insists every time, though when Sam asks how, exactly, it’s different, Dean just sticks his tongue out at him. It’s way too much to explain that the Impala is home , and therefore the comfort is built in. It’s just a different kind of comfort. A motel has to work for it, starting with the pillow. 

Dean swears and sits upright, seizing the pillow and folding it in half before flopping back down. It provides slightly more support, but it’s still far from ideal. 

At least Sam is out tonight with that cute nurse they met while working the hospital haunting, so there’s no one around to judge him.

“Why are you restless, Dean?”

The gun is in Dean’s hands before his brain fully catches up, and the pillow flops to the floor as he sits bolt upright. The pale yellow light from the parking lot filters through the curtains, sketching out the shape of someone perched on the edge of his bed. Dean blinks.

“Cas?”

“Hello,” Castiel says calmly, not flinching at all as he stares down the barrel of Dean’s weapon.

Dean drags a hand over his face and lowers the gun. “Jesus, dude. You gotta stop doin’ this.”

Castiel tilts his head. “Visiting you?”

“Visiting me in the middle of the night, unannounced,” Dean says, tucking the gun away and leaning over the side of the bed to retrieve the limp pillow.

“I sensed your distress,” Castiel responds simply. 

Dean grumpily fluffs the pillow and collapses back down. “I’m not in distress.”

“Your thoughts broadcasted otherwise.”

Apparently Dean’s thoughts are a dramatic bitch. He glares up at Cas, who’s really sitting too close. Not that Cas would pick up on that. Dean’s only known the weird angel for a few months, but it’s already abundantly clear that Castiel doesn’t understand normal human boundaries. Normal guy boundaries. 

There’s a little pinging voice in the back of Dean’s mind, though, that points out that it doesn’t really matter this time, because they’re alone and who’s gonna see? No danger of anyone else noticing what Cas’ proximity does to Dean’s— well, everything.

“I’m fine,” he huffs. “So you can flap back off to whatever you were doin’.”

“I could help you sleep,” Castiel suggests, and Dean’s stupid, traitorous brain nearly melts at the unintended implication. He tugs the scratchy blanket all the way up around his shoulders. 

“Thanks for the offer, man, but I can get my four hours on my own.” He prods at the pillow, scrunching it into a lump and burrowing his cheek into it. God, it’s awful.

“It appears you are uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, well, part of the lifestyle,” Dean grumbles. When Castiel doesn’t respond, Dean sighs. “The pillow just sucks, that’s all. I’ve had worse.”

The covers rustle as Castiel shifts slightly on the bed. Dean watches him surreptitiously through a cracked eyelid. Even in the dim, fuzzy light, his features are sharp and defined — cut cheekbones, that straight nose, those watchful eyes. Even his eyelashes stand out, long and dark, casting shadows of their own. 

It’s rare that Dean lets himself just look. 

Castiel observes the window thoughtfully for a moment, before gazing down at Dean. “What are the qualities of a pillow that doesn’t suck?”

Dean doesn’t even have to contemplate. He opens his eyes fully, rolling onto his back so he can face Cas. “It’s gotta have some thickness to it, y’know, enough to prop up your neck, but not so much that your head gets tilted up. And it has to be firm, but not hard. Like, take this one." He gestures at the monstrosity under his head, “It's way too soft and loose, so I gotta bunch it up.”

“May I?” Castiel asks, reaching out, and Dean raises an eyebrow but props himself up on his elbows enough for Castiel to be able to sink his — long, thick — fingers into the pillow right next to Dean’s cheek. He kneads the fabric, thumb almost brushing the side of Dean’s neck. A tingly smattering of goosebumps buzzes along Dean’s skin. He hastily sits up straighter.

Cas withdraws his hand shortly after. “I see,” he says. “I’ll be right back.” And with a whoosh, he’s gone.

“Uh.” Dean sits there, mouth slightly open, then shrugs. “Okay.” He lays back down and tries very hard to avoid thinking about strong, well defined fingers and broad palms. Headlights sweep across the dusty-yellow walls and ceiling as someone pulls up to the motel, and Dean hears a door slam and voices fade down the sidewalk in the direction of the office.

His neck still hurts, but he’s not even thinking about it. The prospect of Cas coming back makes him thrill as if he’s a horny, crushing teenager or something. It’s ridiculous. 

Not two minutes pass before the curtains flutter with yet another whoosh, and Castiel stands in the middle of the motel room, arms wrapped around a bulging array of — pillows?

Dean sits up. “Dude, what did you do?”

“I brought you alternatives,” Castiel says, striding forward and unceremoniously dumping the bundle onto the bed at Dean’s feet. “I attempted to find pillows that matched your preferences in size and texture.”

Dean’s not sure whether to laugh or gawk, so he ends up doing a mixture of both and sounding like a choked sheep. Castiel regards him with concern. 

“Sleep is important for humans, Dean,” he says, with all the air of a professor imparting vital, brand-new knowledge on a dim pupil.

“You got me there.” Dean holds out a hand. “Well, hit me. Let’s try these babies out.”

Castiel lifts one of the pillows and — Dean hardly sees it coming — smacks him in the face with it. 

“What the fuck!”

“You told me to hit you,” Castiel responds, sounding perplexed. “I thought it was part of the comfort testing.”

Dean clutches the pillow to his chest. “It’s a figure of speech! I— Nevermind.” He squishes the pillow in his hands. “This one’s nice.” Nudging the shitty one off the bed, he floofs the new one until it looks ideal, then sinks his head down into it. Castiel walks around the bed until he’s standing right next to Dean’s face, staring down at him.

“What do you think?”

Dean can’t even bring himself to feel embarrassed by the proximity of Castiel’s crotch. His shoulders and neck melt into the pillow, even the muscles in his face relaxing. “’s amazing,” he nearly moans. 

“Does it support your neck without tilting your head?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Is it firm enough without being hard?”

“So firm,” Dean sighs, already drifting.

“Dean. There are more pillows to sample.” 

“This one’s a winner, buddy.”

“We need to assess all options before making our final decision,” Cas insists, and suddenly there’s an arm sliding under Dean’s shoulders and lifting his torso effortlessly. Dean jolts back online, eyes flying open to find Cas’ face just inches from his as the angel slides the pillow away and replaces it with another. 

“Lie back down.” 

Dean’s not sure he’s getting enough oxygen as Cas’ palm presses flat against his chest and guides him back onto the bed. 

They test five more pillows, and Dean allows Cas to manhandle him more often than is strictly necessary, but sue him. There’s no one else around, and Cas is the one who started it. Might as well drum up some material for the spank bank.

In the end, Dean decides on Pillow #3, which really is the most comfortable item of bedding he has ever encountered. It cradles his neck and head like it was custom-made for him, and he feels sleep descending almost as soon as he sinks into it. 

“Mmm. Heaven might be at war, but this was a good use of your time, Cas.”

“I agree,” Castiel rumbles from his perch on the edge of the bed. “It is a relief for me as well, to have the near-constant buzz of your discomfort assuaged.”

“Gee, way to make a guy feel special. You make me sound like a mosquito.”

“That was not my intention.” Castiel stands, and Dean watches him through his lashes. “I enjoy being in tune with your emotions. It’s— well, it’s more connected than I’ve felt to anything in my long existence.”

Dean’s not sure what to say to that, so he stays quiet.

“Sleep now, Dean.” Cas’ deep voice fills him, covers him, and he swears that he feels fingers brush his forehead as he drifts into unconsciousness. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean wakes the next morning to a pain-free neck and a kink-free back, and if it weren’t for the lumpy, discarded pillow on the floor next to him, he would’ve thought that he dreamed the whole thing. He reverently packs his new pillow into his duffel bag before checking out of the motel.

Sam comments on his jaunty mood as they pull out of town later that morning, and Dean just shrugs. 

“You had your visitor last night, I had mine.” 

#suptober22 #destiel fanfic #crack fic #pillow talk #literally #dean winchester #castiel

[jarofstyles]

Safe

Mafiarry strikes again! A short blurb about one of your favorite pairs.

Check out our Patreon

WARNING: mentions of violence, guns, shooting, mafia/gang violence, anxiety, Emotional. Potential murder

As always we do not condone the actions or lifestyle the characters portrayed❤️ all is fiction.

——

“I’m going to keep you safe.”

Harry’s ringed fingers stroked through her hair as he held her to his body. Sitting in his car after a wild encounter- one he wished she never had to experience. Unfortunately in his job, in this life, it was all too common. It was only a matter of time.

They’d been leaving one of the clubs he owned when someone, people he had somewhat of a clue of who it was, did a drive by. A cowardly, bitch move. Staking out his club during their date night. He had been working on keeping this angle of his world away from her but obviously, it hadn’t worked.

She had been aware of his… activities, so to speak. But nothing could truly prepare someone to be shot at when you never have been before, so it was safe to say she was a bit shaken up. Holding on to his body as the car drove off to his home. His girlfriend fisting the lapel of his jacket and sat firmly in his lap as he tried to calm her heart that was beating a mile a minute.

“How?” She spoke, her voice breaking on the word. “How can you protect me from this part of your world, Harry? I’m… im not saying I don’t want you. But am I going to die growing to love you?” She stressed, pulling her face from his neck, her shaky hands coming up to stroke his stubbly, strong jaw. That was the road it was going down.

Harry was an enigma. They’d met at one of his clubs, and immediately had his eyes on her. Approaching her, offering to buy her a drink. Flustering her that he was so close. A gentleman, but an intimidating aura surrounding him. People shied away from his presence, straightened their backs, lowered their eyes. He walked with an air of authority, demanding respect as his eyes stayed straight ahead. Something that had her even more intrigued with him.

Since that night, they’d been on dates. Harry coming to hers, bringing her to places he knew were safe, wanting to make her see the real him before the hard stuff was revealed. He made it a point to never lie. He told her that he had many facets of his business and he would give her some of them, save some for later. There were whispers she heard, so many things. All she truly knew for a while was that he was wealthy, extremely so. He had security. He had a gun. He was strong. And he owned a lot of places. It seemed to check out.

Finding out the truth was something he had calculated, and somehow… she had taken far better than he could have imagined. Perhaps it was because he had proven himself more than any other man had for her, his affections knew no bounds. Y/N never felt more like a princess than when she was with Harry.

He never hesitated to give her affection. Sweet words and gifts and kisses. An extraordinary lover. She never wanted to let this go. So considering he had taken her baggage so well, coaxed her through panic attacks, through her family issues… she could accept this.

For the most part, the first few months had been calm. Harry returning to her with bruised knuckles, or smelling of cigar smoke. But he would keep her away from it as much as he possibly could, knowing the less she knew the better. At least, until he got a ring on her finger.

And Trust, he was planning on that.

The avoidance of danger had been good until now. They’d escaped unscathed, bullets not hitting anyone. It was a good scenario all things considering, but Harry never felt such a panic. Knowing his lover was there. Standing there next to him as guns shot… her life at risk. They knew she was with him.

His grip on her face moved, holding her chin as he made her look at him. A serious look glazed his face, his heart in his throat at the idea of her being hurt… let alone dying. He would never allow that.

“I will never, ever allow that. Do you understand me? You are too important to me… you’re my world, angel.” He stressed. “I can take care of you. I don’t plan on letting you go. Ever. So you will be protected… my most precious treasure. My world.” He repeated, bringing her lips to his and kissing her firmly, letting her feel how serious he was. His eyes ablaze as he pulled back, she blinked a few times as she took in just how strongly he felt.

“Okay…” she said weakly. Her hand grabbed his, placing it to her cheek again and allowed herself to nuzzle into it. Needing his affection, needing the gentle touch to reassure her that he was here. For once, she truly appreciated his strength. His brawn. How he had roughly pulled her down and covered her body with his, ready to take a bullet for her.

“M’sorry. I didn’t mean to doubt you, H. I want to be yours.” She gave him these soft eyes up at him, making him sigh. Sparkling and gentle, her gaze always has him a goner.

“I know. I know, angel. It’s scary. But I promise you… M’gonna up security. Make sure you’re watched for a bit. I’d like you to stay the night for a few days. Make sure no one follows.” He didn’t want to scare her, but reality had sunk in. There would need to be arrangements made. There was no use in offering an out. Neither of them wanted it. It was equally known that the pair was fucked and falling fast for each other.

No one had ever broken down his walls so quickly. Made him want more than just a quick fuck. Made him want someone to go home to, want to spoil, want to love. Her touch and her voice, every single bit that made up Y/N had been made to have him. That was something he was positive over.

“Okay. I trust you, H.” She whispered back to him. Y/N was no fool. The danger was evident, and she wasn’t hardheaded and stubborn like some of the heroines she’s read about in her romance books. Harry was in this life and he knew the safety risks. His word would work when it came to this new life she was to adjust to.

“Listen to me.” He urged her closed eyes to open again. “I don’t want you to live in fear. But I want you to be cautious, angel. Know this…” he peppered a few kisses to her pouted lips. “I adore you. And I will never allow someone to hurt you. I will kill for you.” His tone was so deathly serious, eyes blazed in anger at the mere idea of someone touching her. That someone had attempted tonight.

“You’re mine. I mean this in every way… however, I protect what is mine. I’ve never had someone be so important to me. Just… let me take care of it. Let me take care of you. Know that will learn from this mistake they pulled. Anyone who raises a hand, a gun, an ill intentioned thought will face me and my consequences.” He nuzzled his nose playfully against hers. “And they don’t want that. You are mine, and you are safe.”

#writing #jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #blurb #blurbs #harry one shot #concept #harry #harry smut blurb #harry styles blurb #bff harry #harry blurb #one shot #mafiarry #mafia harry styles #mafia harry #gangrry #angst

[oumaheroes]

Sealand and England headcanons?

I have more thoughts than I probably should about Sealand and England and I am overjoyed to have recieved these asks

I'm going to start off by mentioning that I don't follow the popular fandom canon that Sealand is or has been with the Nordics in anyway shape or form. For me, he's been with England the entire time which makes more sense, both for Sealand's history and the fact that England is a grabby son of a bitch and I can't see him giving anything up, especially not a child (lack of resources or not).

The Start

Sealand was unexpected, to say the least. To have a new nation randomly pop up in the middle of the North Sea from an old sea fort turned pirate radio, of all things, is not something England could have seen coming, even with his long long life.

In his experience, nations are born from war, bloodshed, and hope; a community of enough people growing strong and large and stable enough to shout with a distinct voice from those around them. One random guy on an old pirate fort doth not usually a nation make and Sealand's arrival caused quite a bit of confusion.

Aside too from his strange appearance and continued existence, England had considered himself done raising children. By the time Sealand popped up in 1967, all of his other children were grown up and gaining independence and the dismantling of the Empire, which had previously produced new nations in its growth, meant that England very much did not foresee another small child appearing.

But appear Sealand did

Their Relationship

By this point in time, England was well experienced in child raising. He's been there, done that, and was and is a lot better equipped emotionally and mentally to care for a child.

But one of the biggest factors in their relationship is time.

England is always a busy man. But nowadays, his busy-ness is somewhat mitigated by modern lifestyle and technology. He works long hours still but these days, it's often within his own lands. He still travels a lot but he can call instantly now, or facetime. His work might call him away at a moment's notice or keep him occupied longer than planned but that's alright, he can drive home in a few hours or fly back in a few days. Unlike the rest of his older siblings, if Sealand wants England he can get hold of him almost instantly. Even in the 60's there were planes and trains and cars and Sealand doesn't have the experience of being left along for years on end in the company of only a rotation of human staff.

England can be more of a hands on parent because he's there to be one and although nations don't require as much hands on parenting, he can be as involved with Sealand so much more than his other children even without trying.

The consequence of this is that Sealand has grown up expecting England to be there when he's needed or wanted him. Maybe he will go a few months without seeing him, like if he stays on his fort and England on the mainland, but England is always ever only a phone call away. This is such a huge change from any one else aside from North, who all had England sporadically and never for very long. This was made worse for everyone else because, depending on the decade, England could wary in his parenting or personality and it was difficult to predict and learn how to be around him in the way that he wanted (for example, before the American revolution and after. Before WWI and after. Before the Victorian era, and after, etc.). By the time Sealand came around, England is stable, settled and a lot more mature and Sealand's upbringing and relationship with England is a lot healthier because of it.

Another huge factor in their relationship is that Sealand, despite being the creature he is and despite not being human, lacks something that very much would have affected the way England, or any other nation, reacted to and treated him- resources.

Sealand has nothing.

He is a metal lump in the sea. There are no trees, no food. No oil, no gold or diamonds. He cannot give England manpower, cannot help in produce or maintain. Sealand cannot rise up and declare war on him, and nor will anyone else wage war to get control of him. He is nothing but himself and this is probably what makes his and England's relationship the healthiest. England's opinion of him cannot be changed by his worth because, in strictly selfish, political nation terms, he's worthless. He has nothing that can benefit England and so England, Arthur, can see him for himself- Peter. A young boy.

Sealand is stripped of all that makes him a nation in a majority of ways and England's behaviour with him, opinion of him, and future plans with him do not include politics. Together they can be as 'normal' and as human as any of their kind can get.

Because of these two main factors, England and Sealand are very close. Not close in that they have a warm, loving relationship in a 'we get along great' way, but close in that Sealand can cross a lot of boundaries and act in ways which no one else can. He doesn't have any hang-ups around England and feels perfectly comfortable flopping on or against him on the sofa to watch TV or wind his arms around England's stomach for a hug. He's perfectly fine to whinge at England to let him get something that he wants or misbehave for minor, trivial things. He pushes buttons more readily, answers back more than most, and gives and receives more physical affection from England than anyone else.

England still takes no nonsense and is just as strict with him as he ever has been but Sealand and England's relationship is definitely easier and more natural than with anyone else. (In a balanced way, of course. Sealand might be allowed to speak in public and act more childish but he's not given cocaine for a cough and nor was he allowed to aimlessly wander about by himself when really young- different time period  different levels of 'acceptable' child rearing)

Even Canada, whose relationship with England is arguably very good, still feels a sense of duty and loyalty, either as an elder brother/ child but also as England's right hand in so many spheres: political, military, or financial. Canada is a son but he is also useful and feels responsible, even if there's currently nothing for him to feel responsible for. Part of this is his position in the family as the second son cleaning up after the eldest did a hit and run, but also how England has raised him. Sealand, as the baby and as a nation without anything to give, is nothing more than Peter and is thus not expected to be or do anything else.

This comes with negatives, of course.

As much as Sealand's lack of resources means that England can relax, it does cause problems because as much as Sealand is more 'human' than the rest of them, he's not- he's a nation. A nation with an oddly finite lifespan because the entities or souls he's tied to is minimal but a nation nonetheless. He has as much yearning and aspiration as any of them and England's constant dismissal of him in this way, even though grounded in logic, hurts. It drives a wedge between them because Sealand wants to be taken seriously and be given responsibilities and respect like his siblings but he never can because he cannot be an asset or a help in that way. He struggles with feeling guilty, stuck, rejected and useless and also incredibly bitter about it, at times.

Logically, Sealand may know that it's not England's fault but England is the one actively preventing this by refusing to entertain any other idea and it's easy to direct anger at him. Children aren't stupid, nation children even less so, and Sealand knows that he's treated differently from everyone else, as much as he also takes advantage of this fact.

Lastly, another factor that influences their relationship is lifespan.

Sealand isn't here forever and England knows this.  He is both stricter and more lenient with Sealand because of this and was something he really let affect their relationship at the beginning- don't get too close. This child will die.

Sealand is the only child who England cannot promise will live to adulthood. He cannot protect Sealand like he could his other fledgling colonies because no matter how much time or money or resources he could put in, Sealand's land and population is unusual and limited and largely based off England's own. Sealand's fate is almost entirely outside of England's control. As there is no way that England would give up some of his own land for him to become another country within his borders, Sealand's death will, inevitably, somewhat be caused by him.

Nations are selfish. Their longevity and survival comes at a personal cost and a nation parent cannot be the same as a human parent. Arthur might love Peter dearly, but England would never act in ways that would be at the cost of himself if there was no benefit.

It was hard for England at the start to let himself open up to the idea of Sealand and see him as his son. It was easier to not think about it, stay emotionally distant, and let nature take its course without doing too much damage to himself along the way. But, as much as England cannot stand the idea of losing a child, he cannot not love children. For all of his grumpy, shitty personality he really does adore small children and, in this modern age and his recent maturing and self awareness, knows that this aloof mindset isn't fair on Sealand. He didn't ask for this, he has no other choice, and so England has decided to treat him as he would any of his other children whilst trying very much not to focus on the inevitable end.

#aph england #aph sealand #hws england #hws sealand #arthur kirkland #peter kirkland #hetalia #aph #hws #heroes headcanons #heroes answers #I love sealand very very much #a stupid amount #arthur parenting

[bakugosbratx]

can you do one where the reader has been a brat allday bakougu has had enough and punishes her please<3

𝓑𝓻𝓪𝓽

𝘒𝘢𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘬𝘪 𝘉𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘨𝘰 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮! 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Warning: NSFW 18+ Content. BDSM themes/lifestyle, dominant and submissive relationship, brat taming, punishment, choking, slapping, crying, cursing, anger, scolding, heavy degrading, voyeurism, public humiliation, spanking with belt, oral (male receiving), etc.

A/N: anon, you have no idea what you have unleashed 😮‍💨 I hope you enjoyed. It’s not my best work, but I’m okay with that.

Words: 1.2K

Tags: @peachyquing @awilddreamermain @milkthistletea @lanarist @quietlegends @bakugous-trauma @gazelle-des-pres @kameiuchiha @cherrykamado @miriobaby @sickchildren @bakugousbrat @vinny-likes-to-play21 @ssplague @ahbeautifulexistence @ebiharachan @fransuki @lil-miminini @angie-1306 @rainne-cloud

“Brat.”

Katsuki growled under his breath sending chills dancing down your spine. That little tantrum of yours was not your smartest move. Especially since you have been misbehaving since you opened your pretty irises.

Katsuki decided to spoil you with a day out doing whatever you wanted. No distractions, no worrying about his agency, just his focus on you. He knows he has been very busy with his career and not able to spend time with you like he prefers. So, that’s how he ended up with you in the mall, going into every store he did not care about, but it was worth it to see you smile. Also, a thank you for putting up with him like you do.

Unfortunately, when you lack attention and are not able to receive what you want, you act out. It does not matter if it was in Katsuki’s control or not, you wanted your way. Numerous pouts, rude comments, and overall, childish behavior has run Katsuki’s patience thin.

You attempted to run when hearing the tone of his voice, but Katsuki is the number two pro-hero for a reason. Lightning speed that you could not even dare to match. Now, a large calloused hand is wrapped around your neck, placing you on your knees with no cares who is around to witness you being disciplined. You are being forced to meet his furious gaze, crimson orbs filled with flames.

Your trembling lip amused Katsuki along with your tear filled pleas. “K-Katsuki, I’m sorry.” You sniveled, not even allowing him to lecture you. Truth is, Katsuki did not need to. Just the glare he held spilled into your soul, regret seeping into your heart.

“Save your half-ass apologies. It’s too late for that.” Katsuki scolds, his grip remaining tight around your throat. Your freshly manicured nails digging into his flesh was useless.

You are not escaping Katsuki.

“You must have forgotten who the hell you belong to. I don’t know what has gotten into you today, but I’m fuckin’ sick of it. I don’t want to hear you bitch about another thing. We are going straight home and the only thing you’re going to receive is a Goddamn punishment.”

You opened your mouth to protest, your defiance written all over your features, but that was met with a warning slap to your cheek. “Are ya deaf? Or are you just so fuckin’selfish you did not listen to a damn thing I said?”

Bringing you to your feet, Katsuki gave a warning slap to your ass, pointing towards the exit of the expensive store you are in. “Get to my car before I decide to punish your pretty ass in front of the paparazzi outside.”

Fear arose in your chest, knowing that your significant other is serious with his threat. Katsuki is not one to give empty threats. You know that all too well.

Rushing to the parking garage that held his expensive car, Katsuki is quick behind you, the feeling of horror you climbed into the passenger seat once Katsuki unlocked the door. You could not get into the car fast enough because the last thing you wanted was for Katsuki to change his mind.

Buckling your seatbelt, you kept your gaze out the tinted window because you cannot even look at the angry man sitting beside you. Your bratty composure will crumble if you meet his glare. It is all fun and games until the time comes where Katsuki meets his breaking point and by the smoke releasing from his sizzling palms, you are in for it.

Home arrived sooner rather than later. Your limbs trembled and your teeth chattered. Katsuki did not even have to speak for you to know what to do. As soon as you reach that front door, you are marching up those stairs to the bedroom you shared.

Any article of clothing you removed before Katsuki met you there. You were hoping that was one way to get on his good side.

Hearing the heavy footsteps, your heart began to race. You clenched onto the comforter below for some sort of comfort and stabilization. Though, when the door flies open, the rush of cold air practically makes you lose balance.

Katsuki’s eyes scan your naked body, attempting to contain himself. He wanted to devour every inch of you, add more bite marks to claim his territory, and make you scream his name until your voice gave out. Still, with age, Katsuki learned some patience.

Walking over to you, Katsuki held your pouty face in the palm of his thick, warm, calloused hand. “Where’s all that mouth on ya now, brat?” Katsuki questioned, arching a golden brow. “C’mon, show me. I know you want me to stuff your pretty little face with my cum.”

Your eyes lit up at the gesture, hoping it will be soon fulfilled. You knew better than to get your hopes up, though. Katsuki is a tease and no bad behavior will go without proper consequences.

Your pupils lingered to his other hand, seeing his belt folded within it. You gulped, quickly meeting his crimson gaze.

“Ha, scared now? How pathetic.”

You are quickly repositioned on the bed by Katsuki, your pretty bare ass up in the air for his viewing. Your knees trembling beneath you made it hard to stay balanced, but, unfortunately, Katsuki did not care.

Teasing you with the black leather grazing your bottom, a hard slap is soon to follow. A harsh cry flew from your lips, tears brimming your beautiful eyes. You just had to look back at him, pleading for some kind of mercy only to be met with zero sympathy.

“Get to countin’,” another harsh slap, “y’know better.”

“T-Two. T-Thank you, Katsuki.” You mumbled, grasping onto the bedsheets for dear life.

Two turned to three, then four, and five, but by the eighth one, you are sobbing hysterically. You can’t even produce a coherent sentence. That was enough to capture Katsuki’s attention. “Oi,” he rubbed your throbbing ass with his large palm, “quitin’ on me already?”

Translation: are you okay?

Katsuki isn’t a monster. Far from it, actually, because he may be rough around the edges, he still loves you and a good dom puts his sub’s needs into consideration. Even when he is angry with them.

When you couldn’t even speak, Katsuki sighed and sat on the bed. Cradling you into his arms, he allowed you to whimper out apologies while he rubbed soothing circles into your bum and back. “I-I’m sorry, ‘Suki.”

Katsuki wiped some tears from your face, cleaning up the mess he made of you. Your devastation brought his sadistic side joy. Your mascara running down your face while you blubber apologies and beg for mercy; it excited him.

“Prove it.” Katsuki hungrily demands, his cock not being able to withstand being away from you much longer. He needed you like you needed him.

Led down to your knees with ease, Katsuki leaned back as you serviced him. You are not fast at much, but unzipping his pants and releasing his erection from its captivity is one thing you have lightening speed for.

You give his cock a teasing swipe of the tongue before pleading the tip with swirls. Saliva danced down his shaft until it reached his balls. No matter how many times you have taken Katsuki’s cock in any of your holes, you still will never be able to fully adjust to his girth and length. Katsuki is far from small.

You both know this.

“C’mon, brat. It ain’t going to suck itself.” Katsuki impatiently grumbles while you remain teasing the tip of his cock.

Just like the brat you are.

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved — I don’t give anyone permission to repost, distribute, copy or re-use my works in any way. Especially not on other websites such as Tik Tok, Ao3, Wattpad, etc.

#bakugosbratx #bnha #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #katsuki #katsuki x y/n #katsuki bakugo my hero academia #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugo fanfiction #katsuki bakugo mha #katsuki x you #katsuki x reader

[authornina]

Dalonte “DALY” Dennis: (TEK)

***THIS HAS NOT BEEN THROUGH A TYPICAL EDITING PROCESS; ALL SHORTS ARE ROUGH DRAFTS***

Daly shook his head listening to his sisters go back and forth about dumb shit. It seemed like they always waited until he came around to bring up niggas. He never intruded on their personal lives because he’d instilled enough in them to know what to do and what not to do. He had been on his own with them since he could remember. Daly was only ten years old roaming the streets looking for food to feed them. Life didn’t give him much of a choice to live another way. His mother left everything up to him, so he had to do anything to survive. At first it was just he and TJ, then two more girls came, and his mother literally dropped them off home to him. Daly cared for infants alone being just a baby himself.

They were on their way to the airport to pick up the baby of the three, Erie. She went away to college four years ago and this would be her first time back in Philly since graduating. They visited her a lot, but they were all happy to have her in the same state as them again. He was so proud of Erie for sticking it out and finishing college. At first, she would beg to come home. She even threatened to drop out several times. Daly spoiled Erie the most so during each one of her breakdowns he flew to Atlanta where she attended Spelman to talk her down.

All three of his sisters even being raised by him like straight niggas turned out to be great women despite their foul ass mouths and no-nonsense ass attitudes. People always said how pretty they were until witnessing one of them in action. Daly was a cool brother to have but he sometimes was too hard on himself thinking he could’ve done better with them and their emotions. He didn’t know how to raise children let alone girls but over the years he learned so much about women, more than he actually wanted to know. 

TJ was the oldest and she owned a popular hair salon. She was the wildest and most outspoken. Daly had to bail her out of jail several times, primarily for domestic disputes with her lovers. She was openly bisexual and came out to him when she was sixteen, saying if Daly didn’t accept her for who she was, he could kiss her ass. Of course, no matter what he loved his sister. TJ was five-eight, with tan skin covered by tattoos. She had them everywhere. None of them knew their fathers and Daly assumed she was biracial off her features and TJ didn’t like that. So, the long curly black hair she once had as a girl which made her ambiguity more apparent was shaved off and she chose to wear all types of colorful wigs. She was beautiful either way with her natural hunter green eyes and freckled rosy cheeks. Despite her lifestyle and appearance, TJ went to church a lot. She’d been that way since she was just a child. Always telling Daly she had them all covered on the prayer tip, so they were good. She believed the Lord protected her big brother the many nights he had to go out and do what needed to be done for them. TJ had a huge and loving heart she just didn’t have the patience for bullshit.

Ta’Kia, whom everyone simply called Kia was the calmest when considering the three of them. She didn’t bother anyone unless they bothered her. It was a different story if she knew you though, you wouldn’t be able to shut her ass up. She went to college in state at West Chester where she met her white boyfriend that she stressed out regularly. Kia was also fair skin and four-eleven of feistiness. Daly knew whoever her father was had to be black. She had 4C hair and to him that meant straight nigga. He learned all about the different types of hair black women had over the years. He didn’t assume they couldn’t have loose coils in general, but his sister came from nigga nuts with the shit that sat on top of her head. Kia kept it in all types of natural styles. She was the earthy vegan type. No man-made chemicals could touch her person and she only ate what she grew. She wore very little clothing often, even when it was cold with beads around her waist, lots of rings on her fingers and she had two nose rings and a septum. Daly didn’t know where the hell that aesthetic came from but again, he supported his sisters through whatever.  

Then there was Erieon, Erie for short, Daly’s baby. TJ and Kia didn’t give into her spoiled ass the way he did. If you asked them, their little sister was selfish, stubborn and plain old evil. Erie had a bad attitude, worse than all of three put together and never liked to admit when she was wrong. The only person she didn’t get out the way with was Daly. Erie was the surprise baby and the most beautiful little dark doll he’d ever seen when his mother first dropped her off. He fell in love with her the moment he had to take her on. By then he’d become an expert at caring for infants. Erie stood out because amongst her sisters she shined like chocolate satin. While her sisters rocked baldies and bushes, Erie loved box braids, and any other type of style that hung pass her butt in individuals. Everything about her was gorgeous. She was the most regular physically but personality wise, Daly had a time with that one. Sometimes he thought she had some mental health issues but seeing Lake go through so much and learning what he could, he swore his sister wasn’t that damaged. Couldn’t be. He simply gave her whatever she wanted and hoped it never went further than having temper tantrums.

When Daly was just a child, if it weren’t for Hassan, he and his sisters would be separated and spread out through the system. It was one of the reasons Daly was so loyal to Lake. Hassan made sure they never had to worry about being taken from one another. The house they lived in, he bought it and fixed it up. They had food and clean clothes every day. When his mother would try to come and interrupt the peace they finally had, Hassan made sure she didn’t any longer. Whatever bad shit people had to say about the late Hassan Porter, he and his sisters were blinded by the fact that he was the only adult to give a fuck about them. Even his mother’s sister didn’t offer a helping hand when she knew how they were living. Hassan didn’t ask any questions or want any answers. He saw a problem and fixed it. Never made Daly feel ashamed or embarrassed either.  

Once at the busy airport, they didn’t even have to park to meet Erie inside. She was sitting outside on her luggage with an obvious attitude.

“Here her ass go with the bullshit,” Kia said getting out the car. She hugged her resistant baby sister while Daly kissed her cheek before getting her stuff. TJ didn’t even get out the car because she was the least interested in what had her mean ass mad already. 

“What’s wrong, Erieon?” Daly asked once they were all back in the car. 

“Nothing.” 

“Erie! Stop bein’ a fuckin’ brat!” TJ turned around to her sister who was in the back seat now with her arms crossed and face balled up. “You always do that like somebody supposed to know what you thinkin’.” 

“Leave me alone.” 

“Erie, what’s wrong?” Daly asked her in a gentle tone making TJ and Kia roll their eyes.

“The flight was just annoying. I don’t like being around people.” 

“I’m sure people don’t like being around your evil ass either,” TJ said. “I’ma pray for you on Sunday demon.” She held the cross around her neck then pulled out a little bottle and splashed Erie. 

“Don’t put that saltwater on me!” 

“You need Jesus!” 

“TJ, stop,” Kia laughed. “Stay sprinkling people with your lil holy water.” 

“She think cause she got baptized that she still not going to hell,” Erie said, wiping her face. “Newsflash, you eat pussy, that’s a sin!” 

“Yo!” Daly yelled. “I don’t wanna hear that shit. All y’all shut the fuck up!” 

Why did he say that? All hell broke loose. They started shouting obscenities his way and he blew his breath wishing he went alone to begin with. Daly loved his sisters to absolute death, but they were a damn handful. How anybody dated one was beyond him. Man or woman. 

“Wit your big head ass!” TJ mushed him. “Don’t be talkin’ to us like that!” 

“I’m stayin’ with you TJ,” Erie said. They were the two who got along the least, but her sister was the most freeing to be around and let her do anything. Even though she was going on twenty-three, Kia and Daly treated her like a baby.

“Then you better act like you know, I ain’t for the walkin’ around my shit with no attitude! And I don’t clean up after grown muhfuckas.” 

“Why you don’t want your own shit?” Daly asked.

“Because I don’t wanna be alone,” Erie said low. “TJ lays with me when I need her.” 

“I can lay with you,” Daly said.

“You never be home.”

Erie saying that made Daly feel bad. If he wasn’t there often it’s because he couldn’t be and when he wasn’t, they had to take care of each other. They didn’t intentionally make him feel bad about it, they simply were dealt a shitty hand. No mother and their brother couldn’t be around due to the fact that he was the provider. It all affected each of them in different ways. 

“I lay with you too.” 

“Kia, your bed bout as big as this back seat. Then you like to sleep on the floor,” Erie said, and they all started laughing. 

Daly gave his sisters the range to live much more extravagant, but Kia didn’t want to. She liked her open space loft, mattress on the floor, no curtains, plants from wall to windows, three pairs of shoes and garden full of natural foods. TJ wanted to work for her own money, so she started a business. Erie was the only one who happily ran through his pockets like no tomorrow. He was okay with him being their backup plan if they ever needed or wanted it.

“Says the homeless one,” Kia rolled her eyes.

“By choice,” Erie retorted. 

After Daly took his sisters out then dropped them all off, he stopped at his old apartment. His phone was ringing off the hook and the only calls he returned were Lake, Wreck and Roddy. Mansion called him about fifty times. When those went unanswered, the texts started. 

Mansion: I know you with another bitch, since you wanna ignore me for her. Stay there, and don’t call me ever again with your hoe ass! 

Mansion: Bitch ass nigga! You really wanna cheat on me? And I bet she don’t look like shit! 

Mansion: I was fuckin’ somebody else anyway!

Mansion: I’m gettin’ a abortion!

Daly ignored each one. Mansion would say anything to get him to argue with her. At first it was funny, but now, he was a little tired of the constant back and forth. It was childish but that’s what he got for messing with a twenty-one-year-old. 

“What?” he asked, finally answering for her.

“Put your bitch on the phone.” 

“I ain’t wit no bitch.” 

“Right, you a hoe ass liar! Come get me right now.” 

“Fuck no! Go tell the nigga you was fuckin’ to get your crazy ass.” 

“I was just sayin’ that,” Mansion whined. “I love you.”

“Obviously,” Daly responded sarcastically and they both started laughing. “You gotta chill bro.” 

“My anger just get the best of me, you know I would never step out on you.” 

“I’m not comin’ tonight, I got shit to do.” 

“Like what?” 

“Shit.” 

“You lyin’.” 

“When the fuck do I ever have to lie? If I’ma be with another bitch, I would tell you.” 

“See that’s what I’m talkin’ bout, the disrespect! I’m not about to let you play in my face with no ugly ass hoe!” 

“Who ugly, Mansion?” 

“SHADIA!” she screamed, and Daly hollered. His on again off again girlfriend for years grinded Mansion’s gears. “You need to tell that dog face bitch you love me and it’s over.” 

“I told her that.” 

“Then why she still feel comfortable to go around talkin’ about my nigga? Why THE FUCK is she postin’ you on her Instagram?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“You know because you keep givin’ that hoe hope!” 

“Ion give nobody shit,” Daly looked at his phone beeping. “Hold on, I’ma call you right back.” He didn’t wait for a response to click over for his sister. “Yea TJ?” 

“Come get Erie before I fuck her up!” 

“What she do that damn fast?” 

“I comes the fuck in my room and her ass changin’ shit around in MY HOUSE!”

“You got it ugly in here!” he heard Erie yell in the back. “Everything don’t gotta be green!” 

“DALONTE!” TJ shouted. “Come get your sister! NOW! Jesus be a high ass fence for Erieon…” she started her prayer for forgiveness then Daly heard a bunch of ruckus. He hung up on everybody tired of dealing with women for one day. It wasn’t even five o’clock yet. He got all the bags out of his trunk and went inside the apartment building. 

When he put his key in the door Tracy was standing right there with an attitude. Out of all the bitch fits, he was least interested in hers. He didn’t tell his sisters about their mother staying there and that’s why he moved because it would upset them. TJ mostly. She hated Tracy to no ending. 

“The fuck you standing there for waitin’ like you caught me cheatin’ or something?” 

“Because you leave me in this place, alone! I ain’t got no phone, no communication to the outside world—” 

“Man, fuck outta here,” Daly said, closing the door. “You lucky you got this.”

“I want to see my children, Dalonte!” 

“They don’t wanna see you.” 

Daly’s mother was a rehabilitated crackhead and ex-prostitute. He wouldn’t have offered her a place to stay but she was currently pregnant and had the nerve to tell him she wanted to do right for her baby. 

“Well it ain’t they choice, y’all is muthafuckin’ kids to me! I don’t care what we been through! I am your mother!” 

“You ain’t shit, Tracy.” Daly took all the bags in the kitchen. “Here, all the shit you wanted. Fuckin’ prenatal vitamins,” he threw them at her. “I know your ass ain’t do none of this shit with us! You want my sisters to see this shit?” He started pouring all the stuff out. “You got it in you to finally care about one of your kids.” 

“He is y’all little brother,” Tracy said, palming her stomach with tears in her eyes. Her oldest child hated her so she knew it couldn’t have been any better with the other three but not seeing them for so long hurt her heart. When she came to him, he didn’t even care at first. They owed her nothing and as a mother Tracy wished she could take every ounce of pain she caused them back. 

“I almost said fuck him too,” Daly laughed, and Tracy smiled. Her son loved her; she knew this because he could be really cold when he wanted to be. There had been times she’d been on the other end of it. 

“I’m sorry for putting all of this on you, if I had another option, I would’ve chosen it. I know it’s not easy seeing me like this,” Tracy expressed to her son sincerely. 

“Whatever, I’m out, I gotta go break up a fight between your kids.” 

“Can you at least tell them I miss them?” 

“I’ll think about it.” Daly closed the door in her face. He stood with his back against the door feeling the way he did when he was younger. So many times, she would even watch him struggle with his sisters. Tracy would be home while he was trying to figure out a way to provide for them. Here she was pregnant again with another baby and needed her son all over again. Déjà vu.

#OnUs #authornina #Nina

[yourcooladdiction]

i didn’t have a back-up plan | bucky barnes

summary: reader x bucky break-up but nothing one of tony’s infamous galas can’t fix ;)

pairings: bucky barnes x female reader

warnings: 18+ only pls!! (smut, unprotected sex, public sex), angsty, little bit of fluff, jealous bucky, cuss words

You’re sitting at the kitchen table with your head cradled in both of your hands. Your cheeks are stained from the hour's worth of tears and for a second you are so glad you didn’t put on any mascara this morning. You hear the screeching sound of a chair pulling out across from you and you refuse to look up. You’ve been going at it for hours now.

He just got back from a three-month-long mission, and everything had been fine until he told you how long he was going to be gone this time. You couldn’t do another three, four, maybe even five months without seeing him. You’ve been together for almost two years, yet it seems like you’ve only physically been with him for maybe 4-5 months. You didn’t expect much from this relationship. You knew when you met him it was going to be hard, and if you’re being honest, you didn’t think it was going to last this long…but there was something about him you couldn’t get over. You fell for him hard and now you are dealing with the consequences. You weren’t accustomed to his lifestyle, and you knew you’d never adapt to it. Being an Avenger isn’t something you just sign up for and it’s certainly not for everyone. He didn’t force the lifestyle upon you, he never forced you to Tony’s lavish parties even though he wanted you to but he knew you’d be too uncomfortable. He loved you. You knew that. You loved him. He knew that. But you knew he deserved more, someone like him, and you deserved someone more like you, with nothing too special about them.

“You want to yell at me some more?” You ask.

“Doll...” His tone is cold and emotionless. You know where this is going. You both have known where this is going.

“Do you think we need to break up?” the words escape his lips, and you finally glance up at him.

“If that’s what you want.” You state.

His shocked response is not what you were expecting.

“What do you want? Do you want this to work? Do you love me?” His tone now filled with sincerity. Where the fuck has this been the past two hours you think to yourself. You could’ve sworn you were taking the words out of his mouth, you wanted to beat him to it. But his puzzled look is telling you otherwise, telling you he doesn’t want this at all.

“Bucky, we haven’t been doing well for so long. It’s just... it’s just not working. Our lives do not mesh together anymore. You are all over the place and I can’t drop everything when convenient for you.” You explain your decision and he sits back in his chair.

“I’ve never once expected you to ‘drop your life for me.’ Jesus fucking Christ.” His tone back to irritated. There he is. There’s the Bucky that you’ve been dealing with for the past few hours and the past few months.

“We fight all the fucking time! That’s all we’ve done for months! When you’re gone it’s over the phone or in text, when you’re here it’s in person. Nothing has changed. Nothing helps. It’s not fucking working.” Your voice cracks and his eyes begin to water.

“I... I love you, I don’t want this to end. We can work on this. I can work on this. I can tell Sam I need a break and take some time off.” He attempts to save himself and you shake your head.

“Buck – I love you but I’m holding you back. You need to be with someone who understands your world and I- I’m just not that person.” You try to fight back the stream of tears and he drops his head in defeat.

He attempts to save himself one more time as his mouth opens but nothing comes out. You stare deeply into his piercing eyes. Trying to memorize his face. Trying to memorize him.

He stands up from the table and stops beside you. He reaches down and squeezes your hand. You squeeze back and glance up at him one last time. His eyes fill with tears once more and he takes off to the door. You sit there and force yourself to stare at the now empty seat across from you. You hear the door shut and the floodgates of emotions hits. You sit there for the longest time. Tears and tears flow down your face. Your heart has found a new home in the pit of your stomach. Your eyes eventually dry up and you know that this was the right decision. It was never going to work…

You are pulled out of your poorly timed reminiscing when your date reaches out and grabs ahold of your hand,

“Ready babe?” He asks.  

You force a smile and step out of the car.

You find it oh so incredibly ironic that your work is co-hosting one of Tony’s infamous charity galas. After you and Bucky broke up you landed a big-time PR job which involved working the one and only…avengers. You haven’t seen Bucky since the breakup but he had to know that you were practically working for the team by now. You had wondered how long you two could avoid each other, it was bound to happen eventually.

Nevertheless, 8 months post break up...here you are. The guy you’ve been seeing, a stockbroker on Wall Street was more than eager to be your date to this event. He wouldn’t shut up about the networking opportunity, and a chance to “meet the avengers.” Eyeroll.

You, on the other hand, didn’t want to go. You’ve been staring at the guestlist for weeks, well, you’ve been staring at one particular name on the guestlist for weeks. You’ve been racking your brain on why he would come to this event. He usually never goes to these stupid gala events, but yet he is attending a random gala…that you are in charge of…come on. You also find it convenient that he had a plus one beside his name. Of course, he does. He’s Bucky Barnes, why wouldn’t he have a date.

You and your date walk the imitation red carpet that’s laid out. You are the chair of this event so you have to pose for pictures and stop for questions. You hated this part of your job, you just wanted to be behind the scenes but unfortunately, people love you and your work, so they want to know all about you at all times.

You make it through the interviews and pull your date inside. He is enjoying this publicity a little too much. You find some co-workers/friends and push him off on them, and quickly head to the bar to get the strongest drink possible.

You order a dry martini with extra gin and take a sip.

“Some things don’t change, hm doll?”  

You stand there frozen. The accent. The beautiful Brooklyn accent that you miss every fucking day. Those six words send chills down your back. The way “doll” flowed off his lips. This fucker. You take a deep breath and pray your makeup has remained in tack and your hair looks good from behind.

You slowly turn around and are met with those deep blue eyes. His hair was much shorter than the last time you saw him, but still so damn handsome. The scruff along his chin almost makes you drool because you miss the feeling of it against your skin. Your eyes make their way back up to him and he is smiling.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi.” You say back.

“You look...fantastic,” he smirks.

You bought this dress specifically for tonight. For this moment. You got it in his favorite color because you wanted him to see you and admit you looked good. You give yourself an internal high five before responding to him.

“Thank you, so do you.” You gesture at his tux. One of your favorite looks on him.

“I-uh-I hope that it’s not weird that I am here,” he says as he takes a step into you.

“Oh, no. Not at all. I am glad you’re here.”

You quickly realize what you said and try to recover,

“SO you can take part in the donations! The more avengers the merrier!” You laugh nervously  

You idiot.

He chuckles at you and shakes his head.

“Is there somewhere more private we can talk?” He asks.

“Uh-I shouldn’t. I have to-“

“Oh right, yes, of course, you’re working. Well, maybe we can meet up before the night is over? I would love to catch up,” his voice is almost a whisper as he is only a few centimes from you. You can smell his unique scent. You used to joke that if he could bottle it up and sell it he wouldn’t have to run off and save the world every other day.

“Yeah, mhm, enjoy your night!” You respond and walk off.

An hour or so passes as you get caught talking to other donors before you can make your way back to your date. He is completely sloshed and making a fool of himself. Great. You call him an Uber and tell him he has to leave. He doesn’t take this very well and begins yelling at you. You and a few co-workers manage to get him outside as you wait for the Uber but he continues yelling at you.

“You’re just a fucking bitch! Get over your fucking metal-arm freak of an ex and you will be happy! I could make you so happy!” He says as he points a finger in your face.

Before you can respond a man quickly jumps in between the two of you and slams him into a wall

“Call her a bitch again and I will kill you, yeah?”

Your date's eyes go wide, and he runs off to the Uber as it pulls up.

“Bucky, what in the absolute fuck is wrong with you?” You yell and he chuckles.

“Really? I just helped you with that fucking asshole and you want to yell at me?”

Without thinking you take ahold of Bucky’s hand and pull him inside and off to a side room. You slam the door behind them both of you and he takes a few steps inside before turning around to face you. You cross your arms along your chest and tell yourself to be calm, give him a chance to explain himself, but as he opens his mouth you cut him off.

“What the fuck are you doing here, James?” You question

A smile splays across his face as you use his first name. He takes a few steps towards you, attempting to close the gap. You slowly take a step or two back still allowing the distance between the two of you. He smirks as he realizes what you’re doing.  

“Well doll, if you must know. I needed to see you He says. His accent was thicker than before, which is a clear indicator he’s been enjoying the open bar or some Asgardian liquor or both.

“What about your plus one? Where is she, hm?” You question.

“You mean Sam? Yeah, I’m sure he’s having a great time in there.” He chuckles.

Of fucking course it’s Sam.

“Why was Sam not on the – oh forget it, we aren’t together anymore Buck, you don’t get to just show up and call me doll and pretend that everything is normal.” You sigh.

“Why not?” He asks playfully.

“We broke up, Bucky.” You sigh once more.

“Yeah and?”  

“And!? And YOU walked away” You scoff

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me, doll?” His voice irritated.

“No, I’m not fucking kidding ‘you.” You tilt your head and mock his accent. His eyes narrow and the muscles in his jaw clench. You forgot how fucking sexy he is when he’s mad.

You two stare at each other for a few seconds as if you’re having a contest. Your emotions begin to overwhelm you and you feel the tears swelling in your eyes. You look down in defeat and you hear him let out a small sigh.

“Love.” His voice cracks. Fuck. You can’t hold the tears back any longer and you feel them fall down your cheek. You look back up at him and his eyes are bloodshot too.

“I fucked up, doll.” He mutters.  

“Yeah. You did.”  

“I know I did! I know! I should have stayed and fought for you. I know that now. I am sorry. But I’m here now. I’ve been working on this little plan for weeks now, to see you and –“

“No! No, no. You can’t do this. You don’t get to do this.” You interrupt, you wipe a tear away, and turn around to leave.

“It wasn't just me, doll! What about you, huh? You couldn’t adjust to my lifestyle yet you’ve been parading around all the other avengers for the past 8 months. Helping Tony with these bullshit galas!” He challenges.

You spin around and narrow your gaze at him.

“It’s my job.” You defend yourself.

“Yeah? I was your fucking boyfriend, not a lot of effort given there though?”

“Oh, fuck you, Bucky. Fuck. You.” You ridicule.

You both stare at each other down. Waiting for the next one to say something. You are soon questioning why you were so excited to see him tonight. Why you picked out this specific dress. Why you enjoyed it when he defended you against your douchebag date. You feel another tear fall and you quickly wipe it away.

“I should’ve tried harder. I’m sorry. I couldn’t handle the distance and I gave up on us too easily because I was scared and I’m sorry.” You finally confess.  

He stares at you. Contemplating what you just said. His jaw is still clenched, and both of his hands are stuffed into his pockets. The silence is almost deafening, and you turn to leave as your heart can’t take this anymore. 8 months later and you’re still not over him. You’ll never be over him.

Bucky grabs your hand as you begin to turn and spins you back around to face him.  

“Doll, I miss you. God, I fucking miss you.” He croaks.

Before you can speak his lips crash against yours. He quickly has you pushed against the wall as he deepens the kiss. You moan as you feel his tongue enter into your mouth. You wrap your hands in his brown locks and attempt to pull him further into you. He slides a leg in between yours and you moan as he grazes your sweet spot.

“Buck, we’re in public-“ you let out a raspy moan.

“I need you, please.” He groans.  

And with that, you’re gone. You give in to whatever he wants. He slips off the straps of your dress and you step out of it, he takes you in as if it was the very first time seeing you. You attempt to cover yourself up, you haven’t been this exposed since the last time you were together.

“Don’t,” he demands.  

He lifts your chin with his finger and places the sweetest kiss on your lips.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers.

“Buck, I haven’t- I haven’t been with anyone else.” You admit.

“Me either, baby. I couldn’t bring myself to think about anyone but you. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. Let me show you how much I've missed you."

This time the tears swelling in your eyes were happy ones. He smiles as he finally renders you speechless. He wipes the tear away and kisses you once more. The kiss goes back to heated and passionate. You reach for his belt buckle, and he groans as your hands brush up against his erect member. He pulls his bow tie off and quickly unbuttons his shirt. He slips off his pants and underwear and once again has you pushed against the door. He begins kissing down your neck as he slips off your bra. He hooks a finger into your underwear, and you moan as his hands slide down your thighs.

“You ready?” He asks

All you can do is nod as the sight of him is enough to make you come.

He hoists you up against the door and you wrap your legs around him as he slips himself inside of you.

“Fuck, baby girl.” He groans.

“Buck – Jesus.” You cry out as he fills you up. He stills as he thinks he hurts you and pulls away to check on you,  

“Move, please.” You giggle and he nuzzles his head into your neck and begins peppering kisses along your collarbone.

He thrusts himself in and out of you at an unrelenting pace. Anyone else would probably be embarrassed with how quickly you’re about to fall apart but you don’t care. You’ve missed this touch for months. You’ve craved it for months. You knew you needed him again. You just needed to realize it.

“Y-you close baby? I’m so close. Fuck.” He moans.

You attempt to speak but all that comes out is a loud moan of his name. He smiles at how easily you fall apart for him. He’s always loved this effect he’s had on you. Even though you held your own, there was something about Bucky that made you putty in his hands. He knew he had to get that feeling back. He knew the second he walked out he wanted to come back. He almost did. He stood outside your door for the longest time but couldn’t bring himself to knock. He knew you’d come back to him. He knew he’d find you again and you two couldn’t help but get back together. You were meant to be.

“Fuck, I’m-“ is all you get out as your orgasm takes over.

“That’s it, doll. Let go. Fuck. I love you. I love you so much.” He praises you as you clench around his cock.

Your head spins as you see stars. With a few more sloppy thrusts, Bucky is moaning your name as he lets go inside of you. He slowly places you back down on the ground and kisses you all over.  

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“I love you.” You say as you lean up to steal a kiss.  

He smirks against your lips and wraps his arms around your waist. You two stand there in each other’s embrace.  

“Can we make this work? Can you be mine again?” He whispers  

“Yes.” You smile.

“Good, I didn’t have a backup plan if you said no.” He smirks and you laugh.

“Let’s get dressed. I’m sure everyone heard us.” You roll your eyes.

“Hey that’s never bothered you before,” he teases.

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes one shot

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 1/?

Word Count: 1.3k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your Name, A/N - Any name (your best friend’s name.)

This is just something I’ve been cooking up in my head during my maladaptive daydreaming. Not really having a plan for this one. ALSO: First post ever on Tumblr! I hope you enjoy it!

I forgot to include the Part 1 when I first posted this lmao F

Warnings: Curse Words, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

As a criminal psychology major, Jason Todd was an intelligent young man waiting to inherit a lot of Wayne Enterprises’ company. Not because Bruce was dying, but because that was Bruce’s promise to him, Graduate, he said, and you can work alongside me, boss and boss. The idea excited Jason entirely. To finally be seen as a colleague to his father was something he always needed from him, but he was too scared to say “Hey dad, am I more than just a sidekick now?” and he knew it.

She, too, was a criminal psychology major. An equally intelligent young woman fighting her way to the top of her class, Jason’s class. And of course, dating isn’t out of the question. Especially when she sees her peers, specifically the one with the white streak in his hair. There was something about him that made her insides twirl in many different ways, butterflies soaring throughout her as if he was destined to meet her. Luckily for her, he sat beside her. Before she could speak to him though, the Professor boomed at the class:

“Good morning class! I am your professor, Thomas Hangre, and welcome to Criminal Psych 101!”

And then began the quick and messy note-taking. She noticed the man beside her didn’t take notes. But, it’s his grade, not mine, she thought.

Little did she know.

When the professor finished, she went to pack up her notes, when the man tapped on her shoulder and outstretched his hand:

“Hey, I don’t think we got a chance to meet before Prof Hangre started spewing at us,” he laughed, “The name’s Jason, you?”

“Oh! My name’s Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, strange man from my criminal psych class, Jason.” she retorted and shook his hand.

“Well well, I can assure you if I was a criminal, Batman would have cracked down on me already, darling.” he stated, almost matter-of-fact-ly.

“You say that like you know Batman.”

“You don’t know if I don’t.”

She laughed at him, there was something about the way he delivered words and sentences that drew her in. This is the start of something good, she thought.

He nudged her slightly in a playful tap, “You want to get something to eat later? We can get to know each other better, and maybe rewrite those very, very sloppy notes of yours, Y/N?” he asked, he seemed shy about it.

“I would love to, Jason.”

They exchanged numbers and packed up her stuff. She figured he still had classes, but she didn’t. So she went back home to her roommate, A/N.

----------------------------------------

“Girl, you do not know the hunk of a man I met today, when I say carved by the Greek Gods and deliver words like a Wayne, I mean it!” she giggled with A/N, they were her best friend.

“C’mon, tell me that guy asked you out, at least to a book club if he’s that hot.” she asked.

“He did! We’re meeting up later at the library to rewrite my notes and chat. Do you think this outfit is cute? I want to make him swoon.”

A/N laughed, “Oh yeah? Girl you’re killing it and you know it. C’mon, red mini skirt, get that man. And maybe see if he has a brother.”

She roared out laughing, “A brother? He is the brother, no man comes from a family where there’s multiple nice ones, you know the saying.”

“Well still, roomies stick out for each other.”

“I know, I know.” she laughed. “Oh and have you seen the latest Bat news, apparently he’s gotten injured.”

“Serves him right for being a bat!”

“Be nice! The man protects us and you know it.” Just then, she looked at the clock, she had 30 minutes to meet up with Jason, so she started panicking.

“I gotta go now, wish me luck.”

“Go, get him.”

-----------------------------------

She pulled up to the library with her bag of hastily written notes and car keys on her lanyard. She was nervous. This was someone who was really cute, and so far, he seemed really sweet to her too. She gulped, getting out of her car. The thing was beaten up to hell and back, so she hoped Jason didn’t see her in it. But he did.

“Hey Y/N.” Jason whispered and she jumped. He laughed.

“Nice beat up car, Y/N. Really living out the broke college kid lifestyle, gotta respect it.” he joked.

“Oh yeah, this is, uh, just aesthetics. I’m secretly very, very rich. Millions of dollars. All my money too.” they both laughed and he lead her inside the library and they both sat down at a desk with two chairs and a computer. This was more luxury than she even had back with A/N.

 Jason grinned and took one of her notebooks and started trying to transcribe what she wrote onto a word document. She laughed, because even though she knew her handwriting was barely legible, he seemed to be managing, and she admired his efforts.

“You know, Jason, I can always transcribe it myself,” she said.

“No, no, it’s okay. If I write it then I can print it for both of us, so you don’t have to pay the printing fee.”

“There’s a printing fee?”

“Yeah, one of my brothers used to go here, my dad says if we all go here he’ll pay the fees since it’s worth it for this college.” he said.

“You have brothers?” she asked, shocked he opened up this quickly.

“Oh yeah I do. 4 to be exact. 3 sisters too. What about you?”

“A twin sister. She’s quite lovely, goes to a different college like a nerd though.” she joked.

He let out a booming laugh, “I think we’re the nerds, Ms. Criminal Psych Major.”

“You have got me there, Jason, you got me there.”

“I know I do, Y/N. So, what high school did you come from, or are you an out-of-city kid?”

“Not from this city, I’m actually from Metropolis. It’s huge and annoying there. Too many people. This is such a smaller city compared to Metropolis. I’m guessing you were a Gotham Academy kid?” she asked.

“Yeah, repping the Gotham Academy to death and back, I met a lot of good people there and I would have to agree, my uncle lives in Metropolis, it’s massive.” he said.

“Your uncle is probably a people-person then, I’m sure as hell not.” she retorted.

“Neither am I, but there was something about you that seemed inviting if I’m honest. I don’t regret asking you this, what is this? A date?” he asked.

“If you want to call it a date, we can call it a date, Jason.” you assured him.

“It’s been a date then.”

“Well I’m glad you thought I was inviting and worth your time, Jason. Really, this is lovely.” you once again assured him.

“Did I tell you that you look nice? Red’s a lovely colour. It’s even my favourite colour. It’s like you can read my mind and dress for the occasion.”

“Man, if I could read your mind, I’m sure it would be a joyride. Maybe I’ll know why you went into Criminal Psych over everything else.”

“That’s a story for another time, Y/N.” he said as he somehow finished typing out the last page of the notes, “I guess this will conclude our date, shame really.”

“Well, that just means there’s room for a second date, Jason.”

“I’ll make sure to tell my brothers about you, then.”

“Is the second date worthy of the Mighty-Jason’s brothers knowing about me?” you are inclined for the answer.

“Well, the first was the minor mention of your name, the second is saying ‘We had fun, I have hopes.’ You know?” he said.

“I know.”

And he printed the document.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x fem!reader #batfam #batfamily #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #red hood x you #jason todd x you #dcu #dc #dceu #batbros #jason todd fluff #red hood fluff

[truglori]

Sneaky Link 🔗

Synopsis: Black Reader and Eric find each other online!

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Black Reader

Warning: Language, Smutt, Raw sex

Flopping on the bed Y/N found herself bored for the fourth Friday night in a row. This was supposed to be the season of hook ups and living her best carefree lifestyle that she had planned out but yet is was the exact opposite. Being on summer break from college Y/N had to come back home with the schools being closed. It was something she dreaded.

Home for her wasn’t the best place to be. Between her judgmental and nagging parents and older brother, Chris, Y/N was ecstatic when she discovered that she would be going to a school that was over three hundred miles away. Being four hours away gave her enough freedom knowing that she didn’t have any one breathing down her neck or snitching to her parents about whatever she did. With it only being her sophomore year Y/N loved the college lifestyle.

Getting up she went to her window to open it and put in her square fan. Her air conditioner that she always kept in her room was now being used by her brother so she had to settle for this. Turning the knob she felt the warm cool breeze coming through and taking up the room. Walking back to her bed she logged into her laptop going onto the web browser. Clicking the history she found the website she was searching for and tapped it.

Quick Link popped up on her screen. It was a site that allowed people to meet and chat with other people. Even though Y/N has been going on it for weeks now back and forth, she never met one person that she has chatted with yet. She was okay with talking to them online and even over the phone but the thought of seeing them in person scared her. With all of the Lifetime movies and ID channel she would watch, doing something as small as meeting up with them could be dangerous.

Y/N scrolled through her recent messages. She had over ninety-nine notifications. She knew that she wasn’t going to reply to them all, only the once she found cute. It was like a broken record being played. They all inbox her with the same messages, hey sexy! Y/N rolled eyes at the un-originality. To her it seem like the guys didn’t even try to put in any effort.

Tapping on the keyboard she began to text back the handful that she found attractive when she got two notifications. Hurrying up her sentence she exited out of the chat and clicking on her new direct messages.

HandsomeAssNigga👅- Y/N, what in the hell is yo ass doing on this shit...10:35pm

HandsomeAssNigga👅- And I know you still online. I can see the green bubble by ya picture...10:36pm

Y/N squinted at the name. Who the hell was this texting her like they knew her? The question alone made her stomach flutter at the idea of getting caught on a dating site by someone she knew or knew her. Clearly this person recognized her enough to boldly message her. Clicking on their username she went to their page. Her heart stopped and thighs clenched at the same time.

It was Erik fucking Stevens aka her brother’s childhood best friend. Chris and Erik were the same age and only three years older than Y/N. Growing up Y/N stayed crushing on Erik. It was his braids that he rocked back in the day that had her drooling over him but also how nice he was to her. Y/N remembered the time when she was a freshman in high school and Chris and Erik were both Juniors she would always get a ride with them every morning in his 2005 Honda Accord. He would steal glances at her through his rear view mirror that only she would catch but to afraid to ask him about it.

There would be times that she would find underwear from a girl tucked under the backseat. Y/N heard about the rumored that went around the school that Erik was a player. An experienced one at that. He was grown before his time and with the way the lucky girls who had a chance to sleep with him describe it, he gave dick like he was a grown man as well.

Hearing that did nothing but spark the flame that she felt about him. She wanted to experience it herself. But being the quiet and timid person she was then, she never did. It wasn’t until Y/N went to college where she lost her virginity her freshman and started having sex on the regular with her ex who was also her first. From the first few times they did it, she could never cum from penetration. Y/N thought it was normal and that every girl dealt with it until she shared a few stories with her friends and they would tell her about the way their guys would make them squirt.

Squirting was something Y/N always wanted to do but could never achieve with her guy. She loved feeling him inside of her stretching her open but he was a quick pumper. He came too fast for her and couldn’t last long enough to get her to nut. So after every session she would take her bullet and tortured her clit until she felt her cream escaping her hole. Not having sex since the last time she was at school had Y/N body extremely horny and hot and ready like a little ceasars pizza.

Clicking through his pictures had her clenching her thighs. After he graduated high school, the graduation was the last place she seen Erik. She wasn’t even sure if Chris and him were still close friends. But what she could say is that he grew up very nice. He now had dreads that hung over his eyes with a clean shape up to top it off. His teeth pearly and white accompanied by gold canines he was wearing in every other picture and last but not least his body was everything. Standing at 6’3 and looking like a solid 215 from her view Erik was fine as fuck.

Giggling and embarrassed with herself she replied back.

BlackBeauty- Erik omg...this is so embarrassing. How did you find me?...10:40pm

Biting the nail on her thumb she waited for him to answer her. To her surprise he wrote back fairly faster than what she expected.

HandsomeAssNigga👅- Noticed yo little ass on the explore page. I know you not on here meeting with these wack ass niggas...10:42pm

She laughed re-reading his message. To her it sound like it was possessive but she didn’t want to over think it.

BlackBeauty- Never!! I am not stupid. I haven’t met one person yet...10:44pm

Hitting the send button she rolled her eyes noticing herself getting desperate from his attention.

HandsomeAssNigga👅-Okay bet! I don’t wanna have to fuck you up youngin 😈...10:47pm

Biting her lip, she stared down the emoji. She wondered what that meant. She wondered in what way did he meant when he said he would fuck her up. At this point Y/N was dripping between her thick thighs.

BlackBeauty- What about you? I know you out here fucking these bitches you meet on here. Don’t lie lol...10:49pm

Y/N didn’t want to seem nosy, she was just trying to make conversation.

HandsomeAssNigga👅- Damn you cuss now? And second of all don’t be worried about what I do with my dick. I’m grown and that’s different...10:51pm

Bringing a hand down to her covered pussy Y/N caressed it. The warmth coming through her panties and cotton shorts. She didn’t know what it was but the way he was responding had her feeling a type of way. She wasn’t the shy young girl anymore he used to know and she wanted to make that clear.

BlackBeauty- I’m grown too Erik 💦...10:53pm

Her heart beat sped up when she sent the text not knowing how he was going to respond.

HandsomeAssNigga👅- To who? I know ya young ass ain’t out here fuckin yet. You was too shy for that last time I saw you. Even if you was, I know you ain’t getting know real dick...10:55pm

HandsomeAssNigga👅- What’s that emoji supposed to represent? Ya pussy or sum shit? Let me find out Y/N 👿...10:56pm

There goes that little devil that had her questioning herself again.

BlackBeauty- I get dick on the regular. Good dick! And yes Erik that emoji reps my pussy. Same young pussy that’ll be too wet for you to handle! I’ll have you drownin in my shit...10:59pm

Y/N could always talk a good game online. It was where she could be get as nasty as she wanted without actually putting in work. The guys who would hit her up loved her foreplay that she had spit over the internet and she was fortunate enough where they never pressed her to meet in person.

HandsomeAssNigga👅- Bring that pussy here and I’ma show you if I’ll drown in it. Stop fucking playing with me Y/N if you not gonna pull up. I don’t do this back and forth teasing shit. You tryna do a Sneaky Link or what?...11:02pm

Checking the hall Y/N seen that the lights were off. Her parents were most likely sleeping and Chris always worked Friday nights. This was the perfect time and opportunity to leave. She would have to sneak the keys from the key holder and use her dad’s car to get to his place. Y/N didn’t do this on the regular but because it was Erik she was curious. She wanted to see for herself if all of the rumors were true. Y/N was going to fuck him tonight.

BlackBeauty- Send me the addy..I’m on my way...11:04pm

________

After showering and preparing for her dick appointment Y/N successfully snuck out of the house. She put his address in her GPS. It was a twenty minute drive to get to his apartment. Putting the car in park and turning it off, Y/N felt the butterflies in her stomach grow while walking into the building. Taking her phone out she went to his message and looking up the apartment number he gave her. Apartment 3B.

Knocking on the door. She held her hands together tightly. She was beyond nervous and rethinking her decision as her heart kept thumping. She couldn’t believe that she was really going to go through this. After so many years of fantasizing about him in her room she was finally going to see the real thing. Y/N only wondered if it was as good as she hoped.

The door swung open showing Erik sipping on a glass of dark liquor. In nothing but a tight wife beater that clung to his chest and his sweats that hung low Y/N could see the print poking through so visibly. It looked like he was free balling it.

“Damn ma. You wasn’t lying about getting grown. You look good as shit.” Erik sipped from his glass. He stepped aside inviting her in.

Y/N smiled softly going inside. She only took a few steps in and stood to the side waiting for him. She heard the door lock behind her as it caused her to gulp hard on her spit.

Erik eyed her with his low eyes. He chuckled seeing that she was clearly nervous.

“So that’s ya thing?” His voice was low and deeper than what she remembered.

“What’s my thing?” Her soft voice speaking up.

“Talking shit online but quiet it person.” He stated putting her on the spot.

Y/N smacked her lips and rolled her eyes. “Whatever.” She turned facing his livingroom.

“Nah ain’t no whatever. What’s good ma? Where that big girl energy go?” He walked up behind her pressing his body into hers. The hand that wasn’t holding his cup wrapped around her waist gripping the small pudge on her stomach.

Y/N shivered when she felt his dick on her ass. Her assumption was right. He wasn’t wearing any underwear beneath his sweats. She could feel the coldness of his chains on her shoulder when he leaned on her due to her only wearing a tank top. She grabbed his hand, not pushing him away but holding on to him.

“I’m here aren’t I?” She gazed at him over her shoulder.

He smirked at her smart remark. “You need anything before we start? A drink, blunt, something to help you calm ya scary ass down.” He teased.

She pushed his hand from around her waist and folded her arms. “I’m not scary Erik. If I was I wouldn’t be here.”

“Then why you barely saying shit?” He licked his lips.

Y/N shrugged. “It’s just been a while since I saw you. You look...different.” Playing with her diamond earning, she occupied her fingers.

“I may look different but I’m still the same Erik that used to jack ya brother up every time he fucked with you when no one was looking. Ain’t shit changed about me ma so you can relax. I’m tryna take care of you tonight.” He spoke stepping closer.

They were now face to face. Y/N’s frame staring up into his 6’3 one. When she would inhale she could smell his expensive cologne mix with the Hennessy he’s been sipping on since she got here.

“Okay.” She answered with a bite of her bottom lip.

Erik groaned at the action. Both of his hands behind his back now, he bent down to her level to meet her halfway. “C’mere.” He demanded a kiss with messy dreads hanging over his eyes.

Meeting him where he was, Y/N listened giving him one. The taste of the dark liquor transferring over to her taste buds from his tongue invading her mouth. The warmth of it made her melt under him and causing her head to lean back. She was already growing weak just from the kiss.

Erik reached behind her slapping her ass and gripping it with his free hand. “Fuck you doing all that for and I ain’t even do shit yet.” He spoke against her lips peaking through his eyelids.

“Hurry up then daddyy.” Y/N whined.

“That’s my name for the night? I like that shit.” He walked them backwards until they reached his room which wasn’t far away from the front.

Placing his glass down on his dresser he lifted her up by her thighs, picking her up. Y/N squealed from the unexpected action. She held onto his neck hoping he wouldn’t drop her. Erik chuckled playing with her ass cheeks before laying her down on the bed gently.

“You sucked dick before...miss grown?” Bringing his hand down, he massaged his print through his sweats.

Leaning up on the palm of her hands, Y/N nodded answering yes. She did it plenty of times with her ex, who she could make cum quickly off of head alone but the way Erik was grabbing his tool made her think differently.

“So what’s up then? Come show me what that mouth do?”

Kicking off her sandals Y/N got off the bed. His eyes stayed glued to her. Getting on her knees in front of him she tugged the sides of the grey sweats and pulled them down to his mid thigh. His dick sprung out almost hitting her in the face had she been centimeters closer.

Long and thick was what it was. A beautiful smooth brown texture covered his heavy package. Y/N felt her mouth watered thinking about how her cream and juices would look being all over it. This man was truly blessed and so far proving the rumors to be true.

Erik twisted his hips side to side wagging it in front of her. He lifted the wife beater up and tucked it under his chin so that he can get a good view.

Grabbing the base of his length Y/N eyed it. She was trying to figure out ways to be able to swallow this monster without choking. Sticking her tongue out she tapped his tip against it. A string from her saliva on her tongue being attached to his head every time they separated. With her prior experience and watching porn she grew to have her own technique.

Y/N allowed the spit to build up in her mouth when she sucked on his tip. No nigga likes dry head and she wasn’t going to start giving it today. She wanted it to be extra sloppy for Erik. Tightening her jaws she went up and down on his dick. Taking only about four inches of him and using her spit to stroke the rest of him. With just the little bit of his length she was able to take she could already feel him reaching her back.

“Fuck that throat feel good. Shitt!” Erik groaned gripping her tight kinky curls and putting them into a ponytail. He tilted his head watching her go stupid on his dick. He sucked in his lower lip when she began to swivel her head around.

Long drips of spit went falling down on her black tank top. Erik’s eyebrows scrunched up the moment he felt her take his balls in her mouth and suck on them lightly while stroking his tip. His stomach started to tighten and his toes dug into his carpet. This girl was trying to take his soul the way she sucking him up.

“Man whatchu doing Y/N?” Erik asked amazed, closing his eyes for a second. He couldn’t remember the last time he had head this good.

“I’m showing you that I’m grown daddy.” She answered coming up.

Now both of her hands were focused on playing with his balls while she sucked his tip and some of the few inches she was able to reach. Her eyes stared into his not stopping at all. She had him right where she wanted him. She could tell from the way his breathing sped up that he was getting weak and ready to bust a nut. Y/N tightened her suction to make it happen when she felt him pull her off by her hair.

Erik took one hand gripping her spit covered chin and tilted her head up to look at him. “Fuck is you doing sucking my dick like that ma? You tryna make me hold you hostage for the whole night?” He asked seriously.

Y/N giggled. “I just wanna make you cum Daddy.” She reached for his tip and gripped it making him jerk forward.

Erik smacked his lips annoyed that she had him feeling like sensitive. “Chill with that. Let me fuck you first before you suck this nut out.”

Helping her up and placing her back on the bed Erik slide off her biker shorts tossing them somewhere. Underneath them she had on some cotton hipster panties with little rainbows spreaded everywhere. Erik laughed when he seen it.

“Why you wearing shit like this ma?” He teased stepping out of his pants and getting on the bed.

“Because it’s cute. Why you worried about what I’m wearing instead of taking them off?” Y/N mocked his question.

Erik smirked bringing his hand up to the piece of cloth and ripping them straight down the middle and threw them on the ground. A gasp left Y/N lips as she was shocked from him doing that. Slapping his forearm, her lips went into a pout becoming upset.

“Erik, I just brought those two weeks ago.” She smacked the hand that was rubbing her thigh.

“You said to take them off. My bad. That’s the way I usually do it.” He lifted her legs by the back of her thighs while he consoled her as a distraction.

Y/N was frustrated at the fact that he ripped her new panties but also that she wasn’t going to have any to wear back home after this link.

“I don’t care how you do it, you shouldn’t have- ohh shiitt!” Her rant was cut off with the sound of moans leaving her mouth.

Holding her legs by the back of her knees Y/N glanced down to see Erik flicking her clit. The tip of his tongue felt wet and firm, in a good way. She really started to feel it when he took one hand and spread her phat pussy lips. Now her clit was out in the open and more accessible. Erik’s eyes met hers through his dreads when his lips wrapped around her bud and began to suck.

“Mm fuck...daddyy!” The sensation had Y/N’s hips thrusting to meet his vacuum like suction. So powerful and wet.

“I want you to cum on this fuckin tongue!” His words were muffled by the lips of her pussy surrounding his but it was enough to reach her ears. Taking a hand he smacked her outer thigh making his demand clear.

Her warm and slick juices ran out of her opening. It was something about the way he commanded her to nut that made her wetter and willing. Y/N liked to be dominated. Lifting up the tank top and pulling it up to her chest she tweaked and flipped her nipples adding to the stimulation. For her the feeling of having her nipples played with while getting her pussy ate made her orgasm a hundred times better.

“Eat this fucking pussy b-babyy-“ She whimpered feeling a tear slide down the corner of her eye.

Even though he noticed it, Erik didn’t stop. The juices that he caught in his mouth made it hard. He loved a good tasting ass pussy. Y/N definitely had one. Moving his assault from her clit he put his tongue in her tight opening. He began to fuck her with it. Erik put his hands under her ass cheeks and got a good cuff before bringing her back and forth on his stiff tongue. With the way her legs were still in the air he could see Y/N toes curl the second he started the action. She began leaking so quickly. Erik chuckled inwardly when he felt her walls squeezing on him.

“Mhm.” He moaned teasing her.

Y/N was cumming from the second time just off of his mouth alone. She reached down to rub her clit while he stuck his tongue deep inside her. She ain’t never got head this good before back at college. Her thighs began to shake as she felt another mini orgasm hit. Her pussy growing sensitive and overstimulated.

Grabbing his dreads she lifted his head up. “Daddy you was eating my pussy so good. Fuckk!” She moaned with a quiver in her voice.

“Now I’m bout to beat this pussy up real good too. Turn around. I want that ass from the back.” Erik barked getting on his knees.

Swiftly taking off her tank top, Y/N turned around like he said and got on all fours. She felt a firm smack to her right ass cheek. Moaning she rocked back and forth and twerked each cheek individually. Y/N looked over her shoulder behind her seeing Erik watching her move it so effortlessly. His hands went up to her waist and pulled her closer to him. Now she could feel her mound rubbing against his bare hard rock hard stick.

“Doing all this ass shaking, you better not try to run from the dick. I don’t want none of that.” He gripped a cheek spreading it watching her pussy lips follow.

“I’m not gon run daddy..I promise.” She reassured him softly.

Erik gripped the base of his length. Smacking it against her her clit he played with it for a while to warm her up. When he heard her moaning and seen her backing up against him he knew she was ready. Erik sent a drip of spit on the tip of his dick and rubbed it over it with a free hand. He teasingly dipped in and out of her tight hole. Y/N pussy was tight as fuck and he knew he had to work his way in. Getting deeper and deeper with each inch her warm wet walls clung on to him.

“Ooh fuck!” Y/N eyes closed not expecting him to feel like this. Erik was stretching her pussy out. Her arms sprawled out in front of her gripping his sheets.

“Tight ass pussy you got. What happened to getting dick on the regular? Hmm?” Holding her down by the small of her back Erik made her arch deeper as he stroked her slick walls.

Y/N’s mouth couldn’t close or make a sound. From the position he had her in she couldn’t move or run if she wanted to. Pinned down and made to take it. Erik was dicking her down. His heavy fat dick busting her pussy open and touching her stomach. Fuck that. He was putting it in her chest. Y/N reached behind her to hold on to his wrist while he pounded her pussy with precision. Her face smashed into the bed. His dick was too good for her.

“Ooh baby... Daddy don’t fuck me like this!” She shouted not knowing what she was saying. Y/N didn’t want him to stop but she couldn’t handle the pressure he was putting on her bladder.

Erik didn’t have just a big dick that could stretch a pussy out. He knew how to fuck with it. When he stroked he didn’t use his whole body he worked his hips and that’s what drove bitches crazy about him. Erik would fuck like he was trying to make a baby.

“I thought you came here to get fucked?” He asked lifting off her. He bended one knee and balanced his weight on his foot pressing it into the bed. His hand wrapped around her throat as he caught a rhythm making her throw it back on him.

The sound of skin clapping filled the room. Y/N’s arch was now the deepest it’s ever been with Erik choking her from behind and making her head tilt up towards the ceiling. Cramping in her stomach let her know that she was about to break. She was finally about to cum from penetration alone. His curved tip would press on a spot she didn’t know she had there causing her legs to convulse. Her whimpers and moans only encouraged him to keep doing what he was doing. Which was tearing her pussy up.

“Shiitt!!” She cursed grabbing onto her titty to have something to hold on.

Erik bit his lip seeing her ass tremble from her orgasm and feeling her squeezing his dick with a vice grip. He slapped her left cheek before pulling out to flip her over on her back. Looking down at his meat it was covered in her creamy juices. His dick jumped at the sight.

“Good ass pussy.” He mumbled in a trance.

Using the weight of his hips he thrusted finding his way back inside of her. The warm wet tunnel closing in on him. Erik lifted up the wife beater that was still on in the mist, and brought it up under his chin tucking it to move it out of his way. His hands found the back of her thighs and pinned them against her chest. He began stroking and getting deeper from the angle.

Being trapped from his hold that he had on her, the only thing Y/N could do was bring her hands to his hips trying to interrupt his movements. Y/N didn’t like this feeling. He was going too deep. Deeper than what she was used to. Shaking her head from side to side she pushed at his hips that only kept going due to her weak and trembling arms not being able to produce enough strength.

“Move ya fuckin hands.” He demanded while keeping his steady stroke. Erik cussed under his breath hearing the smacking sounds coming from her hole that could be mistaken for a pot of mac and cheese being stirred. That’s how good Y/N pussy was.

Her tight walls gripped his dick. Erik looked between their bodies watch the beautiful art being made. Her pussy following him whenever he pulled out to the tip just to be sucked back in. Pussy as good and wet as hers always got him to bust hard. He was close. Leaning down to her neck he kissed and sucked her skin while having her pinned down taking his length. Erik felt her walls slick up and knew she was about to nut again.

“Let that shit go mama.” He whispered in her neck.

Y/N’s nails scratched against his back. Her eyes wailed up with tears feeling the pressure in her stomach building up. She lost count of how many times he had made her cum tonight but she knew she was grateful and only prayed that this wasn’t the last time she got dick this bomb.

“Unhh.” She couldn’t produce any words. Her toes curled as she gazed at the ceiling feeling her body shake.

“There you go.” He pecked her neck.

Erik talked her through her nut while he continued to chase his. It wasn’t long before he felt his dick throb and grow inside of her. Pulling out he climbed on top of her holding his body up with one hand pressed into the bed as he stroked his dick with the other. Y/N opened her mouth and sucked his tip. She could feel his seed spilling on her tongue and traveling down her throat. She wasn’t usually a swallower but the way he had just fucked her he deserved to have his dick milked.

“Ahh shit!” Erik cursed caressing her jaw as he watched her suck him dry. She was cleaning both her juices and his nut off of his dick.

A popping sound escaped her mouth when she released him. Y/N’s body couldn’t move as she laid back staring at him with disbelief. Erik caught her face expression.

“What?” He asked standing on the side of the bed.

“Nothing. It’s just the rumors that I heard about you were all true. You do give some good dick.” Turning to lay on her side Y/N smiled.

Erik laughed. “Yeah well I could say the same about you.”

Her brows knitted in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Little birdy that goes to your college told me about how good ya pussy was. Had to find out for myself.” He smirked at her.

“Erik what are you talking about?” Y/N sat up.

“I’m talking about your ex that you fuck from time to time is my second cousin. Nigga couldn’t stop running his mouth about you. Small world ain’t it?”

He paused watching the confusion clouding over her face. “Besides why else you think I had hit you up tonight? It damn sure wasn’t to reminisce over the past.”

Taking off the wife beater, Erik leaned down to kiss her lips before walking away.

______________________________________

Please excuse any mistakes!

Tag-List

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#black panther #erik killmonger #erik smut #erik stevens #erik x plus size reader #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger x reader #truglori #black panther killmonger

[broiunno]

License to Steal - Act IV

License to Steal

ACT IV

Act I // Act II // Act III // Act IV

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summary: Min Yoongi is your new protection detail upon your return to your father's side after being sent away during a bloody gang war. Now the dust has settled, you've been called back to your old controlled life, and leaving you an unwilling participant in your family's plans. You don't know what they are but you are no longer willing to be the obedient, protected daughter. You don't really care in the least of it makes Yoongi's new assignment hell on earth- So you'll carve your own life out back home on your own terms.

-rating: 18+

-pairing: min yoongi x reader

-word count: 5.8k

-warnings: swearing, gang activities includes drug mention and eventual drug use, the slowest of burns, organized crime, toxic af family dynamics, BEWARE IN THIS ACT: graphic family abuse (father initiated verbal and physical assault- does not fade to black), violence, blood, graphic descriptions of torture, and graphic sex scenes will be included in this work.

-authors note: @chelsea-chee leading the au as usual. I love her the appreciate her as my love, writer, and my beta. Her works are *chefs kiss* Thank you again beautiful <3 PLEASE NOTE: I AM REALLY NOT EXCITED TO POST THE NEXT FEW ACTS. They deal with heavy subject matter and I don't fade to black at any point so please note my works are for mature audiences, warnings are there for a reason and in bold. You are an adult if you are reading this work (per the warnings) and you are responsible for the content you consume. Thank you. ILY all and I love asks about the characters. And that's all I have to say about that...I'm sorry for the wait. I've had covid. I'm back on a better schedule now.

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You fumbled with your hair as you tried to rip your fingers through the still damp strands to assemble it back into a semi-presentable pony tail as the door slid open to your father’s office. You really did wish that you had been able to go upstairs and shower. Or at least change your clothes from the workout gear you currently felt sticking to your skin from the cooling sweat. As a breeze drifted from the vent as the air kicked on, you shivered violently, shaking your head and shooting a hateful stare in Yoongi’s direction as you stepped into the office. Appearances were everything in your family. They were the first level of protection to ensure threats stayed at a minimum. A show of strength and cohesiveness discouraged any hair-brained ideas from a weaker or less organized opposition.

Your father raised a dark, thick brow, turning from the man was speaking quietly to, his expression unreadable as you inclined your head slightly in greeting. “You asked to see me?” you said quietly, keeping your eyes downcast. Since Yoongi had mentioned your father was summoning you, you knew it couldn’t be anything positive. This soon after your arrival? Nothing good would come of this. You had just grabbed onto the distraction of Yoongi until you both stood in the office, feeling stripped bare, awaiting whatever admonishment was about to be delivered.

“You couldn’t make it a full forty-eight hours without causing me a migraine,” your father said sharply and you kept your eyes trained on the floor, as you replayed yesterday in your mind.

“Father, I don’t know what you-”

“Y/N, you weren’t even back a day and you spent how much?” he said, aggravation lacing his tone. “I had to call in Kim to look at your accounts immediately. You’re a fucking hassle.” He huffed and your eyes finally lifted to the stranger that stood next to your father, noting that he stepped away from your father and bowed quickly.

“Nice to meet you, miss. I’m Kim Namjoon. I’ve been handling your accounts and will continue to do so.” You felt your lips part in a soft ‘oh’ as you studied the broad planes of his face, full lips and intense eyes. You felt like he was picking you apart in that moment as you took your time to absorb his ash blond hair in a relaxed, but carefully crafted style. His skin tone was golden; a contrast to Yoongi’s milk-like skin. He glowed, and you couldn’t tell if it from his melanin or the fact that he was radiating intelligence.

“N-Nice to meet you too,” you stammered and managed to close your mouth as he pushed up the rolled sleeves of his white button-down shirt. You swallowed hard and tried to claw through the mental fog that had overcome you. With the teasing from both Jungkook and Yoongi, being presented with another god-like man was the last thing you needed. “I will admit I’m a little confused; my spending was never a problem when I was away? I mean, it’s not like I bought a car.”

Your father barked a laugh and threw up his hands. “You have no grasp on what I do to make this money that you just piss away Y/N! And you COULD have bought a car with the amount you spent yesterday! Like I said: a god damn burden!” he hissed and you flushed slightly, taking a step back unconsciously as you watched his neck flush. Yoongi hadn’t said a word, but you knew you could still sense his dark presence in the corner of the room, not looking at him to notice his eyes narrowed slightly as the scene unfolded.

“Y/N, I’ve had an idea. You’re a daughter. I can’t do much with you. Your brother who I could actually have used is dead. Your mother-” He stopped as he watched your eyes bulge and he shook his head. “I can’t have more children. I’d consider it disrespectful to her memory,” he mused, a hand running along his chin and you couldn’t help the scoff that escaped you, but your jaw snapped shut audibly as your teeth clacked together after the noise passed your lips.

Your father’s eyes flared to life in challenge and he glanced at Namjoon, lip curling. “Did you calculate her estimated cost of living and monthly expenditures? Do you have solid numbers?” he said shortly and Namjoon just nodded, eyes flicking between the family members silently. “And did you adjust for a profit at the margin we discussed?”

“Yes sir,” came the deep steady voice, Namjoon’s eyes traveling your figure, his gaze not heavy with lust or desire, but full of curiosity. “The monthly amount that you should request for that profit is in the proposal if you would like to review it.” He finished and cleared his throat. “I can return if you want me to look over the contract,” he said softly, clearing fishing for a dismissal and your father granted it, offering his hand and you felt your mouth tighten in confusion.

“What contract?”

Namjoon grabbed a briefcase and inclined his head to you stiffly in farewell before his long legs carried him out the doorway. Your father’s gaze didn’t leave your eyes as he spoke. “Yoongi, see him out.” Yoongi nodded and started after the tall man in silence, not sparing you a second glance on his way out.

“I asked you what contract?” you said softly, struggling to keep your voice even as your father stepped closer to you.

“Well, you went out. Spent a lot of money that you’ve done nothing to earn, and caught someone’s eye in the process. Someone worth a lot of money and who would be an asset to have closer to the family at this point in his career.” Your father clasped his hands behind his back as he continued to close the distance between you, each step he made, you felt your heart plummet further.

“Father… what exactly are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything, Y/N. I’m telling you. Someone’s made a bid for your hand, and it’s the only thing you’ll be good for at this point. The shopping sprees, your lifestyle. I can maintain them, but if someone else is willing to do so, and the marriage benefits me in my business, I’d be stupid not to pursue it. Do you think I’m stupid, Y/N?” he said, voice getting dangerously quiet as he reached out to tuck a piece of hair that had escaped the rapidly put-up ponytail behind your ear.

“You can’t sell me off like fucking cattle!-” you said, flinching away from his touch, and his large, calloused hand shot out to grab your chin tightly. He forced your face back towards his as you tried to jerk away, squeezing hard enough to make your eyes begin to water. Your heart thudded out a dangerous irregular rhythm as you breathed hard through your nose.

“I can’t? Y/N, you seem to be under the delusion that you are free from the responsibilities that come with being in this family. I suppose that may be my fault. I was too soft on you, pitied the losses I caused you to have. I always had your brother anyway; there was no harm in indulging you. But now, you’re the only one with my blood in your veins. You’re home to do a service for this family. Everyone else has given their lives in some way. Did you think you were special?” His words were measured and cold as he studied you, grip not loosening on your face. You would be bruised tomorrow as you felt the throb set in from the pressure he was applying.

“You may order me to do it, but I don’t have to go along with this,” you hissed, barely able to open your jaw, but clenching your teeth to get your words out, rage licking up and down your body. He had taken your entire life as a child, as an adolescent. Did he really think giving you a few years of freedom put you back in his debt so far that you owed him the rest of your life?!

No sooner than the words were out of your mouth you heard the sharp crack, and felt yourself stumbling backwards into the wall. You blinked quickly as you registered the pain in your head, immediately starting to pound as the metallic taste of blood filled your mouth. You barely had time to regain a semblance of your bearings before your father was upon you again, face chillingly blank as his ringed fingers gripped the base of your ponytail, ripping your head back at an awkward angle, a scream breaching your bloody lips. The noise was cut short by another blow, snapping your head to the side before he jerked your face back to center.

“Who do you think you are, you little bitch?” he said with a lilt to his tone as you choked out a sob, unable to keep it from escaping your lips. “You really thought you weren’t going to do shit to replace that money you spent?” When he finished speaking he gave your head a violent shake, as if to scramble your thoughts further. It was completely unnecessary, as your head felt as if it was splitting with the pain he had rocked through you with his blows and harsh grip. You felt the start of a purely hysterical giggle break through, spitting out the fresh rush of blood that ran in your mouth due to the cuts in your cheek from your teeth. You noticed a piece of the skin from inside your mouth flapping loosely that made you nauseated if you dwelled on it.

The laugh was probably the worst response you could have had.

You heard a soft hiss, and your father stepped into your space further, hands darting from your head to wrap themselves around your throat and squeezing. As your hands scrambled to scratch at his hand, his arm, his face, anything, you wished you were surprised at this. You wished you were hurt because you were shocked, but you weren’t. There was blood in the water and he was a shark. He built his life this way.

“You don’t have to go along with this…” he said softly, voice void of emotion, “but you also don’t have to keep living here either. How long will you make it without this family? You’d never make it out of the city.” He mused and continued to squeeze, your vision starting to spot as you tried to draw in any bit of air within the hold he had, the choking heaves under the weight of him making the blood that had pooled in your mouth from his blows spill over your chin grotesquely as it began to stream onto his hand. “So will you behave for once in your fucking life?”

You were hyper aware of the tears streaming down your face as you managed the smallest of nods. You supposed he was right; you had never imagined you would be used in the family in any way. Your entire life had been lonely, and even though you hated it, you had resigned yourself to it. His hands unwrapped themselves from your neck, letting you inhale a burning gasp of air as you slid down the wall, and onto the floor. You coughed and rocked forward onto all fours as the shaking of your body didn’t allow for much more than consciousness.

Your father pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the crimson of your blood off his hand before tossing it to you on the floor. You could barely recognize the quick but unhurried footsteps coming back down the hallway to the office before they stopped short.

“Yoongi, take her upstairs.”

==

The flush from hustling back to his boss’s office drained from Yoongi’s face as his eyes widened at your figure hunched forward onto your elbows on the floor. He watched you hack as your body tried to clear your airway. Yoongi stayed silent as he reached down, crouching next to you and attempting to offer you a hand so you could stand on your own, for which you were thankful. You felt the physical pain, but no emotions as your mind sluggishly screamed at you to just accept his hand and stand. You needed to walk out of here on your own. You knew you wouldn’t make it all the way to your room after the assault, but you didn’t need to. Just to the elevator.

You reached out your hand, shaking hard, as you clasped at his large palm and hoisted yourself up, letting him pull lightly as he stood with you, noting that he was still silent. You tried to ignore how your vision swam before you, willing your knees not to buckle. You couldn’t pinpoint if the unsteadiness was from the blows to your face, the lack of oxygen, or the tears that had thankfully stopped streaming down your face but still filled your eyes.

Yoongi seemed to read your mind, shifting his grip from your hand to your upper arm, nestling in your underarm and gently steered you to the door, but let you support most of your weight on the way out. You walked in silence as he didn’t rush you down the hallway, both of your eyes trained on the lift door as he typed in the code. As you waited for the door to open you felt your shaking legs betray you and start to bend. You glanced away from him, the movement of your eyes causing a piercing pain to shoot through your head. “Please,” was all you rasped wetly as you put more weight and started to sink, but the pressure holding you up immediately doubled, Yoongi’s support forcing you upright, even if it made your shoulder raise. It would be almost imperceptible from your father’s office if he was still looking in your direction, but you doubted he would. He had already received your submission; he didn’t need you for anything else.

Yoongi didn’t seem to want to take the chance that he was still watching, stepping into the elevator and continuing to only hold you in one place. His grip was still disguised as if he was walking you out in the same way he may escort an associate who was no longer welcome - in such a manner that would deter any further escalation. No one would be able to tell he was the only thing keeping you upright.

As the door slid shut to the elevator the facade crumbled, you lurching forward and gasping out a sob of pain, tilting your head down to let the blood that had been collecting in your mouth pour out onto the floor. You forgot how much mouth wounds bled. Yoongi was not bothered with the grotesque display as he swiftly adjusted his grip to wrap around your shoulders, his other arm sweeping at your feet as he lifted you with apparent ease. You shut your eyes as the tears began to flow once more, unable to restrain the moans and whimpers of pain that escaped between gasps as you cried. He still hadn’t said a word, even as you turned your face into his suit jacket, inhaling jaggedly as you tried to focus on the scent permeating from him, trying to place it through your snot-filled nose. The only thing you could recognize was the warm, woodsy scent of patchouli as you reached a shaking hand up to hold onto his jacket tightly. You knew he wouldn’t drop you, but it grounded you all the same.

You tried to slow your breathing, but failed as the elevator door opened and Yoongi strode quickly to your bedroom door, bending at the knees and somehow using his crook of his elbow and his body to turn the door knob, the only change in your positioning being that you tilted slightly as he spun it. He kicked the door with his foot gently as he stepped in, by-passing your bed as he carried you into your bathroom, carefully getting on his knees as he lowered you into your large bathtub as he placed you there. You continued to breath quickly, your gasps becoming sharper as your gentle shaking soon became uncontrollable. You released his jacket as he stood and you pulled your knees to your chest, shutting your eyes finally as you heard the tap briefly run before a cool rag brushed your chin, eyes flying open as you flinched away.

“Shh, I need to see your face. I have to get the blood off,” Yoongi whispered, and you finally looked at him, noting his face was still paler than normal. “Princess, I need you to take a slow, deep breath okay? Can you do that? Your lips are turning blue; you’re hyperventilating. You’re safe,” he murmured, brows pinching together in a pained expression you had never seen on his face as you tried to nod, attempting to take a long breath in but ended up gulping in air multiple times on the way, the blurring of your vision worsening as Yoongi grimaced, your breathing speeding up again, your shoulders shrugging with the effort to take in air. The last thing you heard was Yoongi’s tense exclamation of “Shit!” before you blacked out.

==

When you awoke, you were under the covers of your large bed. You sat up quickly before groaning from the ache in your head, then realizing that opening your mouth made you want to scream from pain. Between the squeeze on your jaw and the cuts inside your mouth, it was safe to say you would be saying very little for a while. You glanced towards the window, noting it was inky black outside.

“How long has he hit you?” came a cool voice from beside your bedside and you turned to face the source, seeing a figure standing beside the small table, casting a shadow with the aid of a lamp. Had he even left? Yoongi had shed his stained suit jacket, but still wore the white shirt and same suit pants. You only knew it was the same shirt due to the blood stain from where your mouth must have painted him. Instead of attempting to speak, you shrugged in an attempt to get his gaze off of you. It was piercing and unnerving. You felt as if this was the beginning of an interrogation, and you didn’t fail to notice the color had still not returned to his normally pale face. Now that your mind was a bit clearer you were able to recognize why it registered so deeply with you. He was the embodiment of white with fury. “How. Long?” he said again with such harshness you swallowed hard, ignoring the fire that licked down your throat as you did so.

“That’s a joke right? He’s always been like that. I just normally am better at avoiding it,” you forced out; your words were almost incoherent as you tried to move your jaw as little as possible as you spoke. That was bearable. Good. Not that you had expected it to be, but at least your jaw wasn’t broken; that would have been a pain in the ass. “What time is it?”

“It’s three am,” Yoongi hissed as his eyes glimmered in the near darkness, pushing off the wall and grabbing a glass of water off the table and sweeping a few pills into his hand. “Take these.” You took his offering and a small sip of the water before carefully throwing the pills to the back of your throat and washing them down, sighing softly. “They’re pain pills. They’ll help and you’ll be able to go back to sleep in a bit.”

You didn’t answer but pulled back the cover of your bed and slid out, noting that your bloody shirt had been changed but you still had on your sports bra and leggings. And your ponytail had been taken down, which was probably a good thing since your scalp was still aching from the hold your father had you in.

“Y/N… don’t.” Came Yoongi’s voice, still unemotional but a bit gentler than his earlier tone. You didn’t turn back to him but stopped your path to your vanity, obviously trying to look at your reflection in the mirror to assess the damage.

“Is it that bad?” you grumbled, turning to him and you watched him shrug.

“It’s not good. Don’t worry about it tonight. No bones are broken from what I can tell. I wiped you down the best I could. Just change once I leave and get back into bed.”

You let out a deep breath but finally stepped towards your closet instead to grab an oversized t-shirt. You could work the bra off under it and slip your pants off once you had it on. “Why did you even stay?” you said softly as you set to work, your muscles aching as you attempted to change modestly. You don’t know why it even mattered, but in this moment it did.

“I needed to know if he had done this before. I needed to know if this was the first time. When we were kids, you weren’t around all the time. Sometimes, I’d go months without seeing you. I didn’t know if this was a part of it,” he spat out, visibly tensing as he took a loud steadying breath.

You shrugged as you pulled off your leggings, successful in stripping your bra off under the shirt, and padded back to your bed. “There were a few reasons he kept me separated from everyone. It wasn’t all because he thought I was too precious to see any of this.” You climbed back into bed and tried to settle back into the plushness. Yoongi took a step closer to you, his mouth slightly open as he watched you try to get comfortable, seemingly unable to stop himself.

“Y/N…” he said softly and reached a hand towards you and you stiffened, eyes narrowing, and he took note, dropping his hand slowly.

“Yoongi, I never asked for your fucking pity.”

“I know, and it makes me want to help you even more.”

You blinked and tried to register what he was implying. “Help me?” you repeated, shaking your head as you felt the same hysterical laugh bubble up that had made your assault that much worse in your father’s office. “No one can help me!” You laughed, eyes widening as the smile twisted your features. “This is my life, this is what I was born into. This is what all those shiny things cost, Yoongi! I always knew it but I forgot.” You watched as the pained expression from earlier slid back over his features, and you raised your eyebrows in response. “I appreciate it, but unless you’re willing to put a bullet in my fucking head there’s no saving anything.”

“Who says it has to be your head, Princess?” he said gently and you swear you felt the world stop.

“Don’t say shit like that Min,” you hissed, baring your teeth and shaking your head. “Even if we don’t always get along, I don’t want you dead too.”

“Whatever you say Princess,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips as he cocked his head to the side. “Are you alright to sleep? You don’t feel like you’re going to vomit?” he asked seriously, watching as you shook your head.

“I don’t have a concussion,” you grumbled but as you watched him smirk and go to grab his jacket you felt your heart speed up. “Yoongi- w-wait.” He immediately stopped, as if he was anticipating your words. “Can you stay here the rest of the night? I know he won’t do anything but I-”

“Let me go change my clothes. Is that okay Princess?”

“Yeah… I just don’t want to be-”

“It’s fine Y/N. I’ll be right back.” You stayed sitting up, watching him as he dismissed your attempts at explanations and justification as he walked out.

You sighed, leaning against the leather headboard and let your breathing even out, even as your heart still raced. The pain began to slowly ebb as the medication took effect; what had you even taken? It had to be something strong as a comfortable fog began to cloud your thoughts.

You didn’t know why you felt the need to have him here. Did you even need to explain? He was technically your bodyguard. You had known each other most of your lives. You had just suffered through an assault; staying with you was reasonable. Even if the assailant wasn’t unknown, nor were the motives. At the end of the day, Yoongi’s presence made breathing a bit easier. His presence made you feel safe.

The door opened again and you sucked in a breath as Yoongi re-entered your bedroom, one hand carrying his gun and holster, the other a hanger with a clean pressed suit. “I’ll wake up before you,” was all he said in response to your surprised expression as he studied you. He mistook the shock on your face as being accredited to the suit. He was an idiot if he thought you cared about the fact he would dress here. You were too busy drinking in the sight of his lean figure in low-slung grey sweatpants. You tried to rip your gaze back to his face but you got caught on the black ribbed tank top and the swirling black tattoos covering his shoulder and chest before disappearing under the material.

“I didn’t know you had tattoos,” you choked out, feeling your face flush and mentally slapping yourself. He may look like sex on legs, but you looked like you just had the shit beat out of you. Which to be fair to yourself, you actually just had the shit beat out of you.

“Oh, I forgot,” he said, a small smirk tilting his lip up but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He draped his suit over the chair to your vanity and carried his gun with him towards the plush armchair in the corner of the room.

“The bed is big enough Min. I won’t touch you,” you said breathlessly, trying to force away the blush that was deepening across your face. He seemed to freeze and take a few steadying breaths.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Princess.” His voice was controlled but quiet.

“Please Yoongi…” you said just as quietly. “It’s just for tonight. I won’t feel safe if you’re all the way over there.”

It was definitely an over exaggeration. You hadn’t really expected him to even agree to stay in your room with you. The chair was the reasonable option. You knew you were pushing it.

“Princess, I-” He breathed, the airiness of his tone making your belly somersault and it gave you a tiny shiver.

“Yoongi, please. I need you next to me. Just tonight.” You shouldn’t be so worried about getting this man into bed with you, but now that he was here in front of you and it was so close to happening, you felt you might cry if he denied you.

You watched his back muscles rippled as he tensed and tried to relax. He turned wordlessly and walked to the opposite side of the bed, setting his holster down and climbing into the king-sized bed with you. “Go to sleep Princess.”

The drugs had to be prescriptions, not that you really expected a member of an organized crime family to just take a regular aspirin when they were in pain. “Is the oxy working yet? It should start soon if it hasn’t.” You hummed your assent as you squirmed down into the bed and tried to keep the smile from your face as you reached over and turned out the lamp. You took a deep breath and shut your eyes, savoring the heat that quickly built from having two bodies under the covers of your bed, ignoring the slightly annoyed sigh from the other side of the bed.

“Be quiet Min, I’m trying to rest,” you said softly and a soft dry chuckle cut through the silence as you let sleep take you.

==

Yoongi’s POV

Yoongi listened to the soft sounds of your breathing as they lengthened and deepened, the pain pills having done their job perfectly. If only he could have done his job in such a manner. He had been given a job: to keep you safe, and he took it seriously. Even if the one assigning his work was an abusive piece of shit. Yoongi let out a sigh, glancing over at your figure in the dark to make sure his huff hadn’t disturbed your slumber. It didn’t. You were still laying there, eyes closed and unaware, your face turned towards him to afford him a view of what exactly your father had done in his absence.

He felt his teeth grind against each other as even in the dark, he could make out the near black bruises covering your neck in the clear shape of hands, a bloom crossing your smooth cheek as well. Even your chin and jaw were dark from bruising; evidence that your father had held your face to force submission. It had worked. He opened his mouth and stretched his own jaw to try and stop himself from continuing to grind his molars down to nothing in rage. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to forget how you looked and how he felt when he entered the office, watching the blood drip onto the floor. How he wanted nothing more than to simply pull out his gun and lodge a bullet into your father’s knee before proceeding to swing the butt of his gun down onto him until he shattered every bone in the pig’s disgusting face.

Until he begged him to stop. Until he begged his daughter to tell Yoongi to stop.

The daydream made Yoongi smile a full gummy smile and chuckle for the first time today. He would stop when you told him to. If you told him to. Now that he knew your father had put his hands on you before this, he wondered if you would just let him continue until his mania at seeing what had been done to you was sated. He knew it wouldn’t be until he heard your father’s death rattle, knowing it had been at his own hands.

You stirred slightly to readjust in your sleep, drawing his attention back to the present as you moved closer to him in the bed and he sucked in a breath. Even beaten and bruised you affected him. Even carrying you in that elevator down the hall as you clutched onto him. He had been spiraling down into violence but as soon as you grabbed his jacket, he knew you wouldn’t withstand even him raising his voice to anyone without shattering. You were normally so fierce and seeing you broken made him want to tear apart this entire society you both lived in, even if it was all either of you had ever known.

It was then he had decided he would be what you were asking of him with your sobs and how you clutched onto him; he would be as gentle as could be and give you whatever you needed tonight. Tomorrow he would begin the undertaking of dismantling your father piece by fucking piece.

He had watched over you after you passed out; you had woken up briefly for him to get you to take pain medicine once before you actually were able to speak to him. Before you asked him to stay with you. He wanted to pretend it didn’t make his icy heart crack, the way you tried to explain and justify his presence. He would never ask you to in this kind of situation. When Yoongi returned to his room, he attempted to steel himself for a night of sitting in that uncomfortable chair, and a sleepless day tomorrow. He had gone more than twenty-four hours without sleep before.

But when your eyes, even if they had started to become glossy and dilated from the drugs, began to run over him, he had to try and think of every unsexy thing he could fathom. You had just been fucking violated and just with one look he felt the blood travel away from his brain and pool below his waist. Why did he think he would be able to wear sweatpants while staying with you? You destroyed every semblance of self control he had. He still hadn’t forgotten your teasing in the elevator prior to this shit show.

Then your soft drowsy voice had called out to him just as he had regained his mental fortitude and continued to the chair. You would be the fucking death of him and he didn’t think he would really mind. Now, as he laid here in bed with you trying to ignore the fact that you were shifting closer to him in your sleep, seeking his warmth, he closed his eyes. He had anticipated the pure fury of tonight keeping him awake, but instead it was the fact that he could feel your breath on his neck, that if he turned his head back to you he could still make out your absolutely gorgeous feminine form from under the blankets. The dip in your waist and the curve of your hips, sloping into your soft thigh. Yoongi’s eyes shot open as he let out a soft hiss as he felt his member stiffen in his sweats, one large hand reaching down to palm himself, and he willed his hard-on to disappear.

He dropped his eyes again, confident he would get his bulge to go down without waking you, and as he tended to it, a soft small hand reached across his middle, making his forehead furrow. He tried to take a steadying breath, and tried to not imagine that the events of last night weren’t the reason he was in your bed. That you had just invited him to bed because you wanted him there, not for security but because you wanted him as a man to share your bed and body. That he could roll over to face you, slip his own hand up that oversized shirt and rub soft circles into your skin before slipping his hand down in-between your thighs.

Yoongi felt his cock twitch and himself harden further, forcing another deep breath in and out as he circled back to try and think of grotesque things to make his longing subside. You at least had stopped wriggling in the bed in an attempt to get closer; he was thankful for that. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and tried to calm his heart and regulate his breath to make it possible for him to drift off.

This was going to be a long night.

#bts suga #bts ff #bts x reader #mafia!bts #bts gang au #bts imagines #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #btsxarmy #License to steal

[hotdamnhunnam]

All Fucking Mine, Bitch

A/N: So here’s the first of many fics for my Dirty Little Secret series!!! 😋 This one is from the ‘Somewhat Filthy’ list (which I’ll be alternating with the ‘Super Kinky’ fics). Just a short little piece about you being Jax Teller’s most precious treasure, and him proving it in the best way ever...

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, rough sex, multiple orgasms, cum play obsession (Jax cumming deep inside you and all over you, his most precious possession) Request: This Dirty Little Secret request (anon)

Word Count: ~1k

Note: As explained in this post, this ‘Dirty Little Secret’ series consists of fics that I had originally written for another character/celebrity, which I’m repurposing for characters of Charlie! So if the characterization ever seems a little off, please don’t judge me too harshly 🙂

Imagine... an AU in which Jax ditched the biker lifestyle and instead became a rich, famous, successful movie star who lives in a big mansion. I know I could’ve just used Charlie himself for this fic instead, but I opened up prompts for requests, and for this premise Jax was requested! ✨

Jackson Teller is a man of many possessions. He is rich and successful and powerful, drowning in money and love from his millions of fans. He lives like a king, loaded with fancy things, from his cars and mansions, to his clothing and shoes.

Teller literally has it all. Owns the world. There is nothing this man couldn’t claim if he wanted to. And yet more than anything else, life itself, the most precious thing that he will ever possess... is his girl. Although you can't believe it's true, that girl is you.

Jax loves to prove it to his little princess; it's his favorite thing to do. He's honestly obsessed. And it's the motherfucking best. Every chance that he gets, he spends hours in bed with you, cuddling and making love when you're both in the mood to be tender and soft, or else savagely slamming his cock into all of your holes when you'd rather play rough. 

He always fills you up so deliciously full with his heavenly cum, the sweet cream of his love. His baby girl is his whole world, as he is yours. He knows that you love being his whore and will always want more. You just can't get enough.

Tonight, you two have just gotten home from a swanky event socializing with other celebrities. Jax was eager to leave, since too many of the strangers in attendance had been very rude, shamelessly staring at you throughout the evening like a fine piece of food, making comments to him about how you're so cute, and so pretty. Some men even tried to touch, squeezing your ass when they asked for a hug. Nothing else pisses him off so damn much. Your man is possessive as fuck.

You're his girl. And he wants everybody to know it, the whole fucking world. You belong to Jackson: you are his possession, his to own. His alone. He would rip off your dress and ravage you right in front of everyone else, if he could... but he exercises restraint, since he has a respectable image that he should maintain, here in Hollywood. 

Still, he is desperate to prove it to you in private—fill you up with his cum, mark you up as his slut—once you two get back home. Fuck you real fucking good.

As soon as you step through the front doors, he strips off your clothes, and his own, throwing them to the floor.

He wastes no time at all, slamming your back into the wall. Pressing and blessing your naked body with the full strength of his. Claiming your mouth in a hot, heavy kiss. 

Taking hold of your wrists, pinning them to the wall right above your head, knowing his dominance gets you dripping wet, both your hands locked in the tight grip of one of his fists. You can feel his enormous cock, already hard as a rock, as he grabs it and rubs the slick tip against your pussy lips.

Jax grinds powerfully into you, groaning in pleasure as he hears your breathing hitch, feels your cunt tremble and twitch. "You're all fucking mine, bitch."

With one hand firmly twined in your hair, he drags you to the kitchen, bends you over the counter and spreads your legs open so he can start fucking you there. The sheer size and power of his big, perfect dick has you trembling and gasping for air. You're both moaning in bliss, set to cum any second, like this... 

But before that can happen, all of a sudden Jax pulls out and throws you right over his shoulder, like you're a damn rag doll, as if you weigh nothing at all, his hands playfully groping and smacking your ass as he takes you upstairs.

By the time he reaches the master suite and flings you down onto his sumptuous bed, your ass is turning red. The color of his love and his ownership, labeling you as his bitch, so that no one can ever forget. He then leans down to hover above your body, reaching to pat your head. Smiling fondly as he strokes your hair like his good little pet. Then he gets back to business, devouring your mouth and showering your neck with passionate kisses. 

He fucks you in your soaking wet cunt first, pumping and pounding you to pieces till he fucking bursts. The moment he explodes, filling you with his thick creamy load... is exactly when your pussy squirts. When it comes to timing, just like everything else, Jackson Teller is a fucking expert.

Though your mind is so thoroughly blown, sending you to a whole other zone, you know you won't have time to recover; this definitely isn't over. He still has to shove his delicious dick deep into your slutty throat, to quench all of your thirst, making you gag and choke as you swallow and slurp. 

Then your tight little ass, hard and fast, till it hurts—which is just how you like it, of course. 

To end, Jax will straddle your chest and start fucking your tits, till he cums yet again, jerking off his big beautiful cock across your face and torso, covering every inch of your skin with his pearly white load, fucking smothering you in it.

Once all of that is finished, you smile up at him in bliss and thank him for the privilege of serving as his bitch. He mirrors your smile with murmurs of praise and affection as he helps you clean every drop of his cum, sweeping it from your body and watching you lick it all off of his fingers, sucking on his thumb. 

Then he finally leans down to kiss you once all of the cleanup is done. You hold each other close, moaning how much you love each other even though you both already know. The haven of his arms, all safe and warm, is just as soft as it is hard, cradling your body and your heart, steady and strong. You're bound to keep on making out like lovebirds all night long.

This is your life as Jackson's most precious possession. This is where you belong: to him, only to him. The illustrious Jax Teller owns many things... but he loves only one.

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

Hope you enjoyed this, and would love to hear if you did!! 🤗❤️

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#jax teller #sons of anarchy #soa #charlie hunnam #jax teller smut #sons of anarchy smut #soa smut #charlie hunnam smut #jax teller imagine #sons of anarchy imagine #soa imagine #charlie hunnam imagine #jax teller fanfiction #sons of anarchy fanfiction #soa fanfiction #charlie hunnam fanfiction #jax teller x reader #jax teller x you #charlie hunnam x reader #charlie hunnam x you #dirty little secret

[alt-rose]

waste love - colson baker

colson baker imagine

waste love - you’re in a bad relationship, and your ex, colson, is there for you. 

word count: 5.9K (tis a lot)

WARNINGS: domestic abuse (lowkey kinda graphic), f-bombs?

please don’t read if this is a trigger in anyway, shape, or form for you. 

long story short, your boyfriend was kind of a dick. everyone knew that. your friend and co-worker, Pete had told you multiple times that your boyfriend Trevor was a pretentious asshole. even your ex, Colson, disliked him, but he honestly disliked everyone you dated.

you had called it quits with Colson right before Eminem’s Kamikaze came for him. you blamed it on lifestyle differences, but in the end, you couldn’t handle him getting wasted every night. you told him that you felt like he was constantly choosing drugs and booze over you, and looking back on it, Colson had to admit that you were right. you had a right to end it, but that didn’t dismiss the feelings you felt for each other.

for Pete’s sake, you and Colson remained friends. together, the two of you helped Pete through his breakup with AG and his struggle with his mental health. however, your friendship began to dwindle after a few months. the guys started to notice you slipping away from them when you started dating Trevor.

Trevor was appealing at first. he had a stable job as a manager for a production company. he stayed out of the party scene for the most part. at the beginning of your relationship, you felt like coming home to him was a break from the world. with your busy career as a cast member on SNL, you worked long and late hours, leaving you with two options: you could let yourself fall prey to the temptations that the New York nightlife had to offer, or you could go home. you tended to choose the latter and having someone to go home to made things less lonely.

by the third month, things had taken a turn. you had pulled away from your friendships, turning down opportunities to go out with them during the week. Trevor didn’t like you going out without him. you stopped talking to Pete and Colson for the most part, but you still saw Pete at work. Trevor didn’t like you hanging out with them. it even got to the point that Trevor didn’t like you talking about them so for your sake, you cut them out of your life.

for Colson and Pete, it was a blow. they missed you, and over the course of your relationship, they watched you change. the style of clothes you wore had changed. you traded in your mini skirts for jeans or loose-fitting pants; your dresses were more modest, always covering your arms and shoulders. you started wearing more jackets and turtlenecks. your skin was always covered, which is not to say that you walked around practically naked before. you were just less daring with your clothing choices now. even your makeup had changed. you were like a reformed version of yourself, looking more reserved compared to your usually expressive self.

unknown to them, you had something to hide. the jackets and turtlenecks weren’t because you were ‘always so cold’ like you’d tell people when they asked. you stopped with your makeup because you already spent so much time covering up bruises in the morning that you would run out of time to do anything else.

Trevor not only was possessive and controlling, but he also had a temper. it wasn’t that bad at first. it started with the comments. he’d comment on your hair. he’d comment on your makeup and clothes. you brushed them off at first because you were an independent woman who could look how ever she wanted to look. the comments were then accompanied by cheap insults taking shots at your insecurities. your tough exterior began to crumble at that when you began to doubt your looks and appearance. your confidence had faded. the last straw was when he had yelled at you for the first time. you were going to a banquet for his work, and he screamed at you for the dress you had chosen to wear, it was just a simple black dress that you thought was a safe option. he thought otherwise. he said you looked ridiculous, pointing out that it made your arms look flabby and that it gave you back fat. you offered to change, but he screamed at your even more, telling you that you were already running late so you would just have to go in what you were wearing. you cried to yourself in the bathroom as you struggled to fix your makeup.

ever since then, you made changes to your appearance because he was right. you started dieting. you stopped wearing your fun and creative makeup because Trevor said you looked childish. you started dressing tamer, only in sweaters and jeans. your spirit was dwindling away.

the first time he hit you was after the Tuesday night host dinner had run late. you were out later than you usually were, and Trevor had accused you of cheating on him. you of course yelled back at him, defending yourself. he responded by swiftly smacking your head into your pantry door and calling you a “lying bitch.” your head rung, and you pulled yourself away from him. you kicked him out that night, only for him to come crawling back to you in the morning with flowers and an apology. he seemed sincere so you accepted the apology, and he told you that he loved you.

the vicious cycle repeated for months. you’d be all lovey-dovey. you were happy, and he was kind. then, something would happen, most likely something small or insignificant that would set him off. then, he’d be angry. you’d fight. he would hit you. you would kick him out, or he would quickly apologize. then, you were in this weird period of walking on eggshells around him while he acted like nothing happened. then, he would do something sweet for you, like buying you a pretty piece of jewelry or making you a fancy dinner. then, you’d be the lovey-dovey couple that you were.

the things that set Trevor off the most was when you would support your friends. Pete had his movies out, and you wanted to watch them to support him. Trevor had caught you watching The Dirt, the movie that sparked Pete and Colson’s friendship, after it had been released to Netflix. Trevor was pissed. he claimed that you were still harboring feelings for you ex. you had argued that you no longer had feelings for the rapper/actor, but Trevor didn’t believe you. in his anger, he ripped the remote from your hand and had thrown it into your TV, shattering it in the process. the next morning, he took you out to buy a new TV, letting you pick it out so he could pay for it. you had learned your lesson from that one. you couldn’t have anything to do with Colson.

the summer was rough for your relationship with Trevor. without the stable routine that you had established with him when you were working at SNL, he began to spiral out of control. now that you were working on two films and couldn’t be in the city all the time, Trevor began to lash out at you to gain some sense of control over you. he grew violent and possessive, and you were grateful when you could travel without him.

at some point, you had ended up at Colson’s album party for Hotel Diablo. you had spent the night out with your friends, finally getting to party with Pete and Colson after months of never getting to see much of them. as strange as it may seem, the man of the hour had himself glued to your side the entire night. he brought you drinks and followed you around instead of celebrating with all of his friends. he danced with you like he had on your 21st birthday, the night that had started your relationship with him. later into the night, he sat with you as you lounged on one of the pool chairs in the backyard of the house that you were partying at. you started making smile conversation with him, now that you could hear yourself think.

             “how are things?” you asked staring up at the sky.

             “getting better, I guess,” Colson responded.

that night he told you about his dad’s prognosis, and you held his hand as you listened to him talk. he listened to you gush about the projects you were working on, and you listened to him go on and on about how proud he was of Casie. you laughed as he told you stories about the things he and his bandmates had done.

by the end of the night, it was safe to say that you didn’t regret going to that party. you didn’t think of Trevor once the entire night, and you felt free. however, problems started to arise once the party had ended. Colson had offered to drive you back to your hotel since he didn’t feel comfortable sending you off in an uber by yourself. you let him take you since he was sober. the two of you had stopped drinking about an hour into the party, and it was about 4 in the morning now.

Colson had his hand on your shoulder as he led you to his purple Aston Martin. you covered eyes as cameras flashed as the two of you left the party. the paparazzi had found you.

Colson quickly opened the passenger door for you, blocking the paparazzi’s view of you as you slid into his car. once you were safely seated inside, Colson closed your door before quickly making it to the driver’s side. he chuckled as he watched you turn on your heated seat and plug your phone into the aux, just like you had done when the two of you were dating.

when the two of you arrived at your hotel, Colson took your hand in his.

             “I’m glad you came,” he softly told you before placing his lips delicately on the back of your hand, a gesture that was foreign to you after the past few months.

             “I’m glad I came too,” you whispered to him.

your faces were so close together that if you took a deep breath, your lips would be pressed against his. part of you wanted to kiss him, and part of him wanted to kiss you. however, you pulled away before you could. you weren’t a cheater.

             “promise me you’ll take care of yourself?” his eyes softly gazed over your features.

he could tell that you were wasting away. despite your carefree attitude tonight, he knew that you had changed. your independent, badass attitude had diminished over time, and he only hoped that you would take care of yourself so you could return to the girl that he used to know.

you only gave him a nod before turning your eyes away from him. turning the conversation back on him, you squeezed his hand.

             “I’m really proud of you, Cols,” you smiled to him. “I can’t wait to hear your album.”

he murmured a response to you before placing another kiss on the back of your hand. with that, you had pulled yourself from his car, giving him a small wave as you entered through the glass doors of your hotel.

--

the next morning, you were on a plane heading back to New York. even though you were broken up and you were with someone else, the pain of missing Colson was still there. it was like something deep in your soul was crying out for him.

this trip was a breath of fresh air for you, and you had clarity now. deep down, you knew one thing to be true: you would rather have a little bit of Colson in your life than not have him at all. you didn’t realize how bad your situation was back in New York until you had an outside perspective. with Colson, you had people who loved you for who you were. no one tried to change you. no one tried to tell you what to do. they accepted you for the person you were, and they loved you unconditionally.

you needed those people in your life. Trevor, you realized, was not one of those people. he had done nothing but feed you lies about yourself that made you doubt your self-worth. he never treated you with respect, and every time he told you that he loved was like a punch in the face. it hurt worse than the ones with his fist.

stepping off the airplane in New York, you knew what you had to do. you had to breakup with him, and if you managed to survive, you promised yourself that you would never let yourself fall prey to a man like that ever again.

with your luggage in hand, you made your way to the pickup line, where Trevor was waiting for you. he insisted that he would pick you up, even though you told him that you could just take a cab.

             “hi,” you smiled to him after you placed you bags in the trunk.

he only gave you a nod of acknowledgement as you closed your door. the air felt thick. your smile faltered the longer you stared at him. you watched his movements carefully. he roughly turned the keys, starting the car. his knuckles were white as they gripped the steering wheel. his other hand picked at his lips. he did that when he was pissed, and it put you on edge.

he began to drive, only addressing you once you were stopped at a red light.

             “how was the party?”

your blood ran cold. how did he know?

             “what party?” you laughed lightly, trying to brush him off.

             “DON’T.” he slammed his hands on the top of the steering wheel before looking over at you. “DON’T FUCKING play dumb with me. I saw the pictures. did you fuck him? did you let him fuck you?”

             “NO,” you shouted back at him.

his fist slammed your head into the cool glass of the window. your head rung as tears prickled in your eyes.

             “you’re such a bitch, you know that?”

you watched the road in front of you. the light turned green. the lights around you blurred, and you let your head rest against the window. the tears ran down your face.

you said no word to Trevor when you arrived at your building. you grabbed your bag and quickly made your way into the building. Trevor quickly caught up with you, roughly placing a hand on your arm.

as you stepped off the elevator, you ripped yourself from his arm before making it to your front door. before you could unlock it, Trevor had you pinned with his hand secured tightly around your neck.

your eyes bulged as you gasped for breath. you began to kick at him, until he let you go. you stumbled into your apartment getting as far away from him as possible.

             “I want to breakup,” you rasped holding your throat.

             “why? because you love him more than you love me?” Trevor laughed throwing his keys on your counter.

             “no, you’re a monster.”

he seethed as he moved to close the gap between the two of you. he roughly snatched you by your arms pulling you close.

             “you are not leaving me,” he growled. “you’re mine.”

             “I am not yours,” you grunted out as you struggled to pull away from him.

with all of his force, Trevor tossed you to the floor. your shoulder slammed into the floor as you landed on your arm funny. pain began to splinter from your shoulder before echoing throughout your body. you moved to sit up, clutching your arm, as his boot collided with your ribs.

you gasped for air. your lungs burned. you took blow after blow, barely listening to the cruel words he shouted at you.

once he finally thought you were down, he turned his back to you. you had somehow managed to pull yourself up from the floor, swiping the bat that you kept hidden under your couch. with your weak arm, you swung at him, only landing a small blow to his back. he stumbled before taking you by your throat and shoving you into the fish tank on the small cabinet you kept in the hallway.

you heard the glass crank from the force of your body. Trevor had thrown you to the floor, and the fish tank came crashing down on top of you. you laid on the floor, covered in glass and dirty fish water. you watched Trevor’s boots as they made their way to the door. he spit in your direction before calling you a slut. the door slammed shut behind him.

your vision began to blur as you watched your beloved fish, the two angelfish that Colson and Pete had bought you, begging you to name them both after them, flop against your hardwood floor.

--

you opened your eyes, wincing at the brightness of your kitchen light. you were disoriented. you felt a buzzing in your pocket. gently moving your arm, you pulled your phone from your pocket.

Pete’s contact picture flashed across your screen, announcing an incoming call from him. you accepted the call before moving the phone to your ear.

             “hey girl,” you heard Pete’s voice flood through your phone. “whaddup?”

Pete could hear your raspy, heavy breathing coming through the phone. whatever he was planning on talking to you about was long forgotten now.

             “(y/n/n), are you okay? what’s wrong?” Pete gently asked through the phone.

his heart beat loudly in your chest as he heard your sobs.

             “I’m sorry,” you whispered to him. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

             “(y/n), what did you do?” Pete began to scramble out of bed, looking for the spare apartment key you gave him. “where are you?”

             “I’m at my apartment. I love you, Pete.” your speech was slurring. “tell Cols. tell him too.”

Pete called your name through the phone waiting for you response, but he was met with none. he called 911 as he ran from his apartment, catching a cab to your building.

the police had made it there before he had. damn, traffic. he stood at your apartment door as he watched the paramedics set you on a stretcher. you had an oxygen mask placed over your mouth and nose, and a paramedic began to tie a tourniquet around your thigh, above the shard of glass that impaled you when the fish tank fell.

as they rolled you out, Pete followed, holding the hand on your bad arm. your eyes found his face as the paramedics took you into the elevator.

             “Pete,” you sighed, moving the oxygen mask away from you with your good arm.

             “I’m here,” he nodded to you, stroking your wet hair. “who did this?”

you barely whispered Trevor’s name before you blacked out once more.

the second time you woke up, you were laying in a hospital bed. your body burned from the pain. your head buzzed. your neck was stiff. your lungs burned as you tried to breathe. your leg throbbed, and a shooting pain erupted from your shoulder. it took you a moment to focus your eyes, but you found your parents sitting in your room with you.

Pete had called them after the doctors rushed you into surgery for your shoulder. he also called the Mulaney’s, who had become your second set of parents. they were someone for you to rely on while you lived in New York City all alone. you could call them at any hour, and John and Anna would be at your beck and call, whether it was shopping for furniture or getting dinner. Pete felt like they would want to know.

he contemplated calling Colson, but today was his album release. Pete knew that part of you would be angry at him for bothering Colson, but he also knew that Colson would be even more upset with him if he didn’t call him. So, Pete made the call, only after you were out of surgery. your parents had arrived about a half an hour after your surgery had ended, and Colson was doing everything he could to get to New York.

you were kept overnight, but they planned on releasing you the next evening, making sure that nothing ended up infected and that your pain was manageable. your parents were out cold on the couch in your room. Pete occupied the chair next to your bed. your parents lied to the hospital staff, telling them that Pete was your brother. you could tell that the nurses didn’t believe them for a second, but no one wanted to argue with them. Pete was grateful that they let him stay, even after visiting hours had ended. after the state he saw you in just a few hours before, he didn’t feel comfortable leaving you.

from your spot in your bed, you watched Pete as he attempted to dose off with his head hanging awkwardly over the back of the chair. you saw his eyes pop open as if he could feel you staring at him.

             “hey,” he whispered sitting up and stretching his neck out. “how long have you been awake?”

             “not sure,” you whispered back as you picked at the hem of the thin hospital sheets you were given.

             “what are you thinking about?” he asked leaning forward to rest his folded hands on your bed.

he could tell that you were deep in thought.

             “I’m think about a restraining order.”

Pete gave you a small laugh.

             “after the amount of evidence, the police gather from your apartment, he might even do a bit of time.”

             “I don’t really care if he does time. I just want him gone, and I want him to pay for the stuff he broke,” you told him, moving your eyes away from the frayed hem in front of you.

             “he will. (y/n/n) will get him to pay for all of it.”

he gently patted the top of your hand resting on the pillow the nurses placed it on to help your shoulder heal. taking a moment to flick through the tv, you grew frustrated before landing on an old concert playing on one of the channels.

             “have you listened to it?” you asked turning to Pete.

             “listened to what?” Pete asked glancing over at you.

             “Cols’ album.”

             “Ah, yeah,” Pete sighed sitting back in his chair. “it’s a banger.”

             “he did good?”

             “fuck yeah, Colson always does good.”

             “good,” you sighed leaning your head back on the mountain of pillows.

             “have you not listened to it yet?”

you shook your head.

             “from the flight and Trevor, I didn’t get a chance.”

             “I can play it for you,” Pete said sitting back up. “do you want me to grab some headphones or something?”

             “no,” you said stretching your fingers out to stop him. “you can just play it out loud. I don’t want to listen to it alone.”

with that, Pete opened his phone before setting it on the table by the side of your bed. he hit play on the first track, adjusting the volume so that it was loud enough to listen to without bothering your sleeping parents.

you closed your eyes, letting the music surround you. you listened to the powerful lyrics in el Diablo and Hollywood Whore, taking in the struggles he had to face after the hate that came for him.

the opening to Glass House had tears prickling your eyes. you squeezed Pete’s hand as Colson sang the part about Nipsey and him. the first set of tears had slipped from your eyes. the tears were falling freely from your eyes when Colson sang about Peep, Mac, and Chester. you could feel his pain through the words he spoke. in this piece, he was completely vulnerable, open, sharing the darkness in his life and the loneliness he felt.

             “I didn't sign up to be the hero but I don't want to wind up a villain. I put my daughter to bed then attempted to kill myself in the kitchen. Yeah, I should've screamed, but nobody listened. So I passed out with the blood dripping. In this glass house, feeling like a prison.”

your breath hitched in your throat. Pete squeezed your hand before pressing his forehead to your head. you let out a few quiet sobs. the emotions from the day were crashing down on you. you were exhausted. you were fucking terrified, and you wanted nothing more than to call Colson. you wanted to hear his voice. you wanted to know that he was okay, even though you had seen him just the night before.

             “I think we should stop,” Pete whispered gently to you as you broke down.

             “no,” you told him. your voice thick with tears. “I want to keep listening.”

             “okay, okay,” he whispered, stroking your hair.

the two of you listened to Burning Memories, your heart clenched at the words he sang about his mother. A Message from the Count caught you by surprise, and you and Pete laughed gently at him and Colson messing around. the break from the heavy stuff was much needed, and your spirits were slightly better. you nodded along to Floor 13. you felt like the song was an appropriate response to the hate he received after Killshot, and you were proud of him for it. a small smile appeared on your face as you heard Casie’s outro for the song.

somewhere in the middle of the Truck Norris interlude, your parents had woken up. they gave you and Pete weird looks as they saw the position the two of you were in. Pete was awkwardly hunched over, resting his head against yours as the two of you bobbed along to Hotel Diablo.

Death in My Pocket had you in tears again. the rawness of the lyrics made your heart clench. you could feel his sadness through the lyrics about his aunt, father, and his relationship with his father. it reminded you of the conversation the two of you had the other night by the pool.

Candy was a bop to say the least, and you knew that that was going to be a fun song to perform. part of you couldn’t wait to see Colson perform on tour, but you knew that you should probably keep your distance from him for now.

Waste Love was another one that surprised you. the lyrics echoed your breakup from almost a year ago. you moved your head away from Pete, looking at him from your peripheral. your reaction had Pete lightly laughing.

             “I knew it,” he nodded at you.

             “shut up,” you whispered back at him.

your mom shot her head up at the two of you quietly bickering.

             “what?” she asked, causing the two of you to snap your heads in her direction.

             “NOTHING.”

--

Sunday afternoon, you sat on the edge of your hospital bed. the nurses helped you and your mom as your mom tried to help you get dressed. now, you sat with your hair pulled back loosely in a scrunchie, wearing a very large pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt that Pete had snagged from his apartment earlier that morning. your arm rested in a sling since you ended up dislocating your shoulder. your thigh was wrapped up, but you could still manage to limp on it. those were your two major injuries. other than that, you only had a few cuts and bruises.

the police had arrested Trevor last night, and as far as you knew, he was still locked up. you were relieved that you didn’t have to worry about him anymore.

now, you were waiting to be discharged so that you could go back to your apartment.

             “ready to go?” your dad asked extending a hand to help you into the wheelchair.

you nodded to him, and with that, a nurse wheeled you to the exit with Pete and your parents following behind. your dad ran to get the rental car that your parents had picked up that morning. they didn’t really want to take a cab back to your apartment.

when you got back to your building, you closed your eyes as your rode up the elevator. you had been silent the whole ride home, listening to your parents and Pete’s conversation. Pete and your dad held you under your arms to support you, so you didn’t have to put all of your weight on your bad leg. they helped you hobble to your door as your mom unlocked it.

inside you could hear the hum of one of your records playing on your record player. your mom set the keys in the bowl by the door as you unlatched yourself from your dad and Pete.

on the kitchen counter, you saw a bouquet of yellow roses sitting amongst a bunch of shattered glass. on the floor, you saw the water stain from your fish tank mixed with your blood stain. your eyes flicker with tears.

             “shit, I’m sorry,” you heard a voice from the sink in your kitchen. “I meant to cover that up before you got back. I talked to your landlord. he’s got a guy to fix that.”

standing in front of you was one of the only people you wanted to see. your 6-foot-4 blond giant friend. he had gloves covering his hands, and a bucket was filling in your sink.

hobbling forward, you pressed your head into his chest as you balled your good fist into the fabric of his black t-shirt. you could hear Colson take the gloves off before he wrapped his arms around you. you sobbed into his chest as he lightly stroked your back.

Colson gave Pete and your parents a look. they gave him a small smile, and your mom mumbled something about finishing cleaning up. around you, your dad took the bucket from the sink before moving it to clean your blood from the floor. your mom vacuumed your couch cushions to make sure there was no glass left behind. Pete pulled out a bottle of febreze to mask the scent of your dead fish.

you pulled yourself from Colson to laugh lightly at Pete. Colson gently wiped the tears from your face.

             “where are my fish?” you ask him softly.

             “they were too big to flush down the toilet, so I have them sealed in a zip lock bag for now,” he said gently. “figured you might want to do the honors.”

             “thank you,” you murmured to him before hugging him once more. “your album is really fucking good.”

you could feel him lightly laugh as he wrapped his arms around you again.

             “glad you liked it,” he murmured into your hair. his hands traveled up your back to cup your cheeks. “why are you crying?”

             “I don’t know,” you laugh using your good hand to wipe away your tears. “thank you for being here.”

             “always,” he smiled at you. “come on, I cleaned up your room. let’s get you off your leg.”

Colson helped you hobble to your room, helping you take your sling off before you laid down. he situated you on your pillows, propping your shoulder up and apologizing as you winced. he set your laptop up for you, giving you your headphones. he sat with you while you weakly scrolled through Netflix before finding the movie you wanted. The Dirt.

             “you suck,” Colson smiled at you, causing you to laugh.

             “I haven’t seen it yet. cut me a break.”

             “alright, alright.”

he pulled himself up from your bed, placing your favorite blanket over you. as he moved to leave your room, you reached your good arm out to grab his hand. with your hand wrapped around his fingers, he turned back to you.

             “did you write that song about me?” you ask him softly. your voice was so quiet that he almost missed what you said.

Colson gave you a small smile before raising your hand to his lip, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

             “of course, it’s about you.”

             “did you mean it?” you stared into his bright blue eyes, searching for an answer. “did you mean what you said?”

             “(y/n), I will always mean it, and I know now is not the time to tell you this,” he paused to sigh. “I never stopped loving you, and I will probably always love you. and, I know I fucked up. I fucked up our relationship. I wasn’t around, and I was always wasted. and, I am so sorry for that. you deserved better than that, and I’m getting better. and, when you’re ready, I want to talk about us because I don’t want to live without you anymore. this year sucked without you by my side, and I don’t want that anymore. I want you in my life, and I don’t care how long it takes for you to get there. I will always be here, waiting for you.”

you had tears streaming down your cheeks. he sat back on the bed to wipe away your tears.

             “you kinda suck,” you laugh as you used your good hand to wipe your eyes.

             “I’m sorry,” he sighed avoiding your gaze.

             “I missed you too, Col,” you said reaching up to trace his cheek. “it’s gonna take me sometime to get there because I want to get over this mess before I jump into something else, but I feel the same way. I don’t want to live without you in my life anymore.”

Colson smiled at you before moving to kiss you on your forehead. a knock on your door pulled you out of your little moment. Pete stood in your doorway with his jacket on.

             “hey, Colson,” Pete began, causing Colson to turn toward his buddy. “we gotta go now if we are going to make the store.”

             “okay, I’ll be there in a second,” he nodded to Pete as he got up from your bed once more.

             “where are you going?” you asked him still holding his hand.

             “we’re going to go get you a new tank. tomorrow, we’ll go get some new fish for you,” Colson said.

             “but, you can’t just buy a tank-”

             “I know,” he smiled back at you. “your dad made Pete and I a list. enjoy your movie.” he winked at you, closing the door lightly behind him.

--

the next morning, you stood in Randy’s Pet Shop with Colson and Pete, staring up at the multiple tanks of fish in front of you. like little kids in the candy store, the two of them made sure to pick out the craziest looking fish for your tank, begging you to let them name them. you of course agree, and the three of you left the store with Kevin and Barracuda, your new gold and blue gourami fish.  

you knew that it was going to be a while until you were going to be okay again, but at least you had the guys in your corner. no matter how far you strayed from them, they were always there for you, and you were forever grateful for that.

life could only go up from here.

.

.

.

i know this was a bit darker than usual. feel free to send requests - rose xx

#machine gun kelly imagines #colson baker imagine #colson baker imagines #machine gun kelly x reader #machine gun kelly imagine #colson baker x reader

[9layerdevilfoodcake]

Some Of A Kind

Chapter 1: Virgin in the Chapel

(Michael Langdon x reader)

Summary: When you accompany your friend to a black mass at the Church of Satan. You pick the wrong time and place to let him in on the fact that you’re a virgin, garnering the attention of the ‘chosen one’ himself.

Warnings: murder, mentions of drug use, poorly represented Satanism

Word count: 3,666 (that’s right)

//

It was a typical Wednesday night when you got a text from your friend Tyler.

‘So what do you say? Is tonight the night?’

He had been bugging you for weeks to come see a sacrifice at the satanic church. And since the first time he asked, the conversation always went the same way.

/

“I’m telling you, just one slice and then you can have whatever you want”

“You mean I can have powers beyond compare?”

“Yes” he answered back, in a hopeful tone. Clearly he hadn’t picked up on the sarcasm in your voice.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the excitement in his voice.

“I’m sorry, you do whatever you want over there with your edgelords but I’m perfectly happy in my boring powerless existence”

“First of all we aren’t edgelords, we're satanists. We just see the world for what it is. A dreadful place full of selfish people.”

“Well I can’t say I argue with that”

“Exactly, so give in to being selfish, and start doing what you want. You work so hard, and for what a one bedroom apartment you can barely afford and bags under your eyes that are only getting bigger by the day?”

“Hey” you interrupt, slightly offended. Which only earns a laugh on his end.

“I’m just saying, you put in so much effort for no pay off, when you could do this one thing and have everything you deserve”

“What a cable package and a ‘skip the line’ pass at Disneyland?”

“I also get unlimited snacks!”

“Oh sorry how could I forget, well if one soul is all it takes to get a free waffle cone then what are we still doing here?!” You ask back, your tone full of mockery.

“Have you ever wondered why I can snort as much coke as I want and have never OD’d? Or why every girl I bring home is a certified 10?”

Actually you had, the two of you had met the year prior in a religious studies class when you were partnered to write a paper on whether morality was dependent on a god. He could barely get through a sentence without tripping over his words or looking away in embarrassment. It was sweet really, and by the end of the class you two had basically become best friends.

But about 2 months ago things started to change. There was almost always a girl leaving his house when you would come over.

You swore at least two of them you recognized from Victoria Secret runways.

One night you even saw a man leaving whose resemblance to Ryan Reynolds was suspiciously uncanny.

He got a new car without any explanation as to where he got the money, and he had so much coke in his living room you assumed he started dealing, before he told you it was just his stash for the weekend.

At first he was vague about everything, but eventually he told you the truth, or at least what you assumed was a version of it.

For his final project he wrote a research paper on the church of Satan.

You went with him to a couple of services when he was writing it, him being too nervous to go alone.

You both thought they seemed a little kooky, but relatively harmless.

Yet what you didn’t know was that he kept going back after the class ended and had gotten himself sworn in, and eventually given the honor of participating in a black mass.

Where he had sacrificed a school teacher in order to get these new “gifts”.

Now you weren’t naive enough to think he actually killed someone!

You were sure his new lifestyle was a part of some religious Ponzi scheme, and one day the debt collector would come calling.

You’ve watched enough documentaries to know better than to get involved with this.

But he is still your friend so you take it upon yourself to be supportive and let him have his moment, while simultaneously letting him know you’ll be here for him if the day comes that he gets excommunicated.

“I love you and I am so happy for all you’ve gotten, especially when you share it with me, but I’m good, really. I’ll let you know if I ever change my mind”

That dropped the subject for a while.

 

That is until a few days ago when you lost your job.

Well actually when your job was stolen from underneath you by your boss's son.

All it took was one night of bitching to your best friend for the talks of satanism to start up again.

//

So here you were bored on a Wednesday night actually considering his offer to watch a black mass.

‘Well…’

He texted back after a few minutes of no response on your part

‘Fine’

It’s not like he’s ever going to let up, you might as well go see what all the hubbub was about.

After he picked you up, you made your way to the church.

More precisely the back alley with a hidden door. Not at all unsettling.

And the rain pelting down on the robe he gave you just adds a nice ominese touch to what you're sure is going to be a long night.

Now inside you sit in a pew in the back. While the choir above you sings as the others file in.

They actually sound pretty good if you’re being honest. Maybe on your way out you’ll pick up the album you saw for sale in the lobby (for $6.66 no less).

You haven’t been sitting more than 10 minutes before the mass begins.

And in that time Tyler roughly explained what you were about to see.

You weren’t paying too much attention though. More enamored with the atmosphere.

It was a sea of red cloaks and black pentagrams. And the thunder outside appeared to clap along in sync with the crescendo or the choir.

This place seems vastly different from the shabby collection of misfits you encountered when you visited the first time. Who spent most of the service complaining and handed you a stale donut on your way out the door.

“...Y/n are your listening?!”

“Hmm Yea”

“Really?”

“Yea the guy’s gonna sacrifice some ‘innocent soul’ say a few hail satans and voilà he gets his hair back and starts getting laid again” you answer back, waving him off. You’re more interested in watching two Satanists in the front of the room give each other the “sign of the cross” gesture in reverse order.

“This is serious, the things you see might shock you but you can not react! If they think you’re some sort of threat to our secrets or even just afraid of them, it won’t end well. I’m kind of taking a risk by bringing you here”

That brings your attention back to your friend.

“So you hound me for weeks to come with you, but I’m not even allowed to be here?” You ask back, starting to wonder why you actually said yes to this.

“Well yea, I just really want you to see what I’ve seen, I want what’s best for you”

That was actually really sweet of him.

Now you felt a little bad for making fun of this so much.

That is until you see a man in the next row pull out a flask with “unholy water” written on it and rub it on his chest like Vick’s.

But before you get the chance to ask Tyler where he keeps his flask(which you're certain he has). The choir stops singing and the Priestess has the room's attention.

Everything goes as Tyler explains at first.

The “sacrifices” are brought in in their underwear. (They couldn’t even keep their clothes on, what does the devil give them a level up if the victims are humiliated before they die?) and tonight's chosen one, Phil, is about to take his position, before you hear a voice behind you.

“Wait!”

You turn your head to see an older woman rushing in, but it’s not her that steals your focus it’s who walks in behind her.

He is quite possibly the most attractive person you have ever seen. With cheekbones that could slice butter and soft blonde hair falling around icy blue eyes.

She says his name is Michael and this honor belongs to him.

You look over to Tyler to see what’s going on. He didn’t explain what part of the performance this was, was this some sort of second act surprise?

You were expecting this night to follow like a church service, watching Phil take his vows and minimal audience participation. Now you wonder if this is all rehearsed, or if the Satanist’s are partial to improv?

But Tyler pays you no mind, he can’t take his eyes off the blonde either.

It’s not until the Priestess mentions the “mark of the beast” and that he is the chosen one, that you get why Tyler is looking at him like he’s some sort of god.

Because to him he is, this guy is supposed to be the Antichrist.

Tyler says nothing only glances in your direction when he sees you’re the only one still standing, before he pulls you down to your knee like everyone else.

The rest of the performance is really top notch.

The flickering of the lights was a nice touch, but you can’t help but feel a little uneasy wondering how they keep getting the thunder to time up with everything they do.

Plus the bodies of the sacrifices fell to the ground almost too well.

How did they manage to get their bodies to look that lifeless, and why did those cuts look so deep?

But you try not to focus too much on it as you walk to the ceremonial Wednesday night potluck.

/

After the Antichrist has dismissed his followers from fawning all over him, you sit with Tyler at the end of the table and dig into your lasagna.

“So does the antichrist part happen at every sacrifice or is this one special? Is it some Satanic holiday I wasn’t aware of?” You ask, breaking Tyler out of whatever trance he appears to be stuck in.

“What?”

“I gotta say the dramatics were very entertaining, but if you really wanted to get me here all you had to do was tell me the guy who plays the Antichrist is really hot” you snicker under your breath.

“Play? Y/n your don’t understand he IS the Antichrist” he explains in a hushed voice before continuing

“That doesn’t happen every time, he really has come. This is the moment we’ve all been waiting for! Don’t you see?! I think it was fate you came here on this night!”

“Ha, why do you need a virgin to sacrifice or something?” You laugh and take another bite before you look over and see Tyler staring at you with wide eyes.

“What?”

“You’re not serious are you?”

“Well yea, what’s the big deal, I didn’t realize you were so caught up on a social construct”

“I’m not, but you can’t say things like that around here” he looks around the room nervously and you follow his path of vision until your eyes land on Michael, who’s own gaze is locked on you.

There’s no way he heard you, you were across the room and you were whispering.

Still he continues to stare with eyes that speak only of intensity. No smile, no nod, no hint emotion whatsoever.

It’s only after you raise your brows and mouth a “What?” That he looks back down at his plate with a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Oh Satan, I think he heard you. You should go” Tyler’s tone becoming more erratic by the second.

“What?” You’re sure he's joking, but when he looks at you there is nothing but worry in his eyes.

Now you’re starting to get nervous, this is too far.

He actually thinks these people are going to do something?

He’s practically shaking with fear, and because of the man in the turtleneck? Who barely knows how to hold a spoon?

Okay you’ll play along for tonight, but tomorrow you are having a serious talk, he might need professional help.

“Alright let's go then” you huff out as you start to grab your belongings.

“I can’t just leave, especially since our savior is here, but I’ll make sure everything is good and you’re not followed or anything”

“Okay, is there some sort of satanic shuttle bus that can take me home? Or should I call an Uber? Does this place have an address or should I just send them an inverted cross?”

Still unamused by your inability to grasp the gravity of the situation, he just shakes his head and hands you his keys.

“Here just take my car, I’ll get a ride later, in fact stay at my house incase you’re followed”

He’s basically pushing you out of your seat and nodding to the door.

“Okay...bye I guess”

And with that you take off down the hall.

You know you’re supposed to go straight to the car. You’ve never seen Tyler look so serious in his life.

But when you walk past the chapel you can’t help but stop. You can still see the bodies up at the altar.

Why are they still there? Was there a trap door you missed and these were just doubles?

Or were these people so committed to the role and as crazy as your friend that they had to stay in the character of “dead sacrifice” all night?

Curiosity got the better of you, the car could wait, you had to see for yourself.

Closer inspection did nothing to stifle your suspicions.

It looked so real.

They weren’t breathing, so there was no way they were still the two actors, but you had never seen fake bodies look so real.

You're reminded of an anatomy class you took last semester.

Those cadavers looked suspiciously close to these.

Just colder and with less life left in their faces.

And there was so much blood, the iron was thick in the air.

But that couldn’t be true. Your friend wouldn’t kill someone would he?

He didn’t actually think they would kill you?

If you got a closer look, if you just swiped some of the “blood” with your pointer finger it would surely taste like corn syrup and not like…

“Are you afraid?”

You whip your head around, blood still staining your finger and beginning to drip onto the linoleum. To see Michael walking in the same way he had an hour earlier. Only this time without the cloak, but with some newly added confidence.

“They’re really dead aren’t they?” You know it’s true, but you still wait for his confirmation.

“Yes, that tends to happen when you slice someone’s throat” He acts as if this shouldn’t be a shock to you. It didn’t shock any of the other members of the congregation. Yet you know without him saying it, that he’s well aware you’re not like the others. That you don’t belong here.

“So you really sacrifice people, just to get stuff” you blurt out. Still trying to wrap your head around the fact that everything you witnessed tonight was real. Perhaps you shouldn’t have taken that last crescent roll you’d seen another satanist eyeing at dinner, you definitely have a curse coming your way. That is if you live through the night.

“Well not me” Michael says, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to the present.

“Oh of course, you’re the one they do it for”

“Well my father more specifically”

“Does that upset you?” You know you should be more careful about how you proceed with this conversation, but the words leave your mouth before your mind can stop them.

The question seems to catch him by surprise as he ruffles his brow, you’re not sure if it’s in anger or just shock at your brazenness. But he doesn’t answer. Just goes on to question you.

“Have you ever witnessed a murder before?”

“No”

“How did you feel watching it before your eyes?”

“Well I didn’t feel much, considering I thought it was all fake” That earns you a smile from him.

“And how do you feel now?”

“Curious”

“Really? Not scared?”

“No. Why should I be?” You’re really digging your own grave here. But your mouth seems to have a mind of its own.

“It seems your friend would say otherwise”

“Ah so you did hear.” You say, seeing his smile grow wider. “These aren't the days of the Old Testament, virginity doesn’t equally purity. Just ask sacrifice number one over there, with a body like that I doubt she was a virgin” you laugh, partially at your joke and partially out of sheer uncomfortableness. Michael doesn’t even spare the bodies a glance, eyes latched onto you, you go on to add

“I’m no saint. Despite my sexual history, or lack thereof”

“No, I’m sure you’re not” he emphasizes by swiping some of the liquid from your finger with his own, before taking it into his mouth. Making a show of it by closing his eyes as he releases it from his lips, slow as molasses. Smiling when he opens his eyes and sees you’re practically drooling.

Before his little show can go any further, you continue with your own questions.

“Have you killed people before?”

“Yes”

“How many?”

“You don’t have the time”

He’s looking at you waiting for your response. Waiting for the shock to subside and the shrieks of terror to take over.

Instead you just pause thinking everything over.

You should be scared, you know you should.

In one night you have watched two people die, found out your friend is a murderer, and that the Antichrist is not only NOT a myth, but is standing in front of you, conversing with you like he’s nothing more than your new neighbor.

Yet you search and search in your mind for any hint of fear and come up empty. All you feel is curiosity. You must be losing it too, you feel bad for judging Tyler so harshly. Maybe it’s his youthful face and the little outburst in the dining hall earlier, but Michael seems like more than simply the ‘incarnation of evil’. He seems so...human.

And more than anything he just seems confused and dare you say, lost.

“Do you like killing people? Or do you do it because it’s expected?”

“It depends”

“Would you like to kill me?”

Now it’s his turn to take pause, looking like he’s trying to decide if he’s “in the mood” to take your life.

“Not right now”

You can’t help but laugh at that (yea you’re definitely in shock). Soon enough he joins in too, and the mood feels lighter than it has all night. You might even say you feel comfortable.

That is until the laughter subsides and you meet his eyes. He’s now staring at you with the same intensity you’d met earlier at dinner.

It’s like he’s looking right through you, into your soul. You feel on display and more than anything afraid of what he might find.

“Stop that”

“Stop what?” He says with a playful tone and a tilt of his head.

“You’re..well..I don’t know what you’re doing but I don’t like it. You’re trying to get a read on me or something.”

He just smiles at that, because of course he does.

You know there is no avoiding playing into his hand. He wants to get a rise out of you, in one way or another.

“And what do yo-”

“Y/N!”

At the mention of your name you both turn to see Tyler standing in the doorway.

Antichrist or not, the look Michael gives him is enough to send a wave of fear up your spine.

He appears as though he’s about to snap his neck through just a look(and you're afraid to find out if he could).

Noticing his anger, Tyler stops and bows before Michael, apologizing incessantly for interrupting him.

You don’t miss the twitch of Michael’s lips. He’s clearly loving the effects he has on his followers.

You just roll your eyes at your friend.

“Calm down Tyler, get up”

He just let’s your words pass over him as if you hadn’t even spoken. If he hadn’t been the one to call your name a moment ago, you wouldn’t be sure he even knew you were in the room.

Every sense he had was aimed at Michael, and it was only when his precious dark lord gave him a nod that he got up and looked your way again.

“What are you doing? I thought you were going home?” He says through clenched teeth.

If he weren’t so worried about keeping you alive he would be pissed at you for not listening.

“I was. I am” you reassure him turning to Michael.

“It was a pleasure to meet you Michael, I’ll see myself out”

You are scurrying out of the room, grabbing a frozen Tyler and tugging him along with you, when Michael calls after you.

“No y/n, the pleasure was all mine.”

You’re at the end of the hall, and in the middle of Tyler’s scolding session, when you realize there is still blood on your finger.

It feels like it’s vibrating where Michael touched you, begging you to take notice.

Just wipe it on your jeans, you tell yourself.

Wait until you get to the car and find a napkin.

Do anything rational other than what you're thinking.

As you pass through the exit door, you cave and take a taste of the crimson on your finger.

Although you can’t see him, you know Michael is smiling. You can feel his smugness in the air around you and you're sure he knows what you just did.

This started out just as me wanting to make some jokes about Michael and the Satanists and has somehow turned into a multi-chapter fic. I still don’t really know where it’s going I’m just letting it take on a mind of it’s own. If it looks familiar it’s cuz it’s been on ao3 for a little bit now, so sorry it’s not a “new” new story! If you liked it that makes me very happy, and if not I hope it was at least entertaining! Either way thank you for reading!

(I wasn’t sure who wanted to be tagged just in my Xavier fic and who did in general so I didn’t add a tag list to this one)

#Michael langdon x reader #Michael langdon #ahs apocalypse #far too much sarcasm

[choiwrites]

jjk | work it out (m.)

Words: 7k Genres: carpenter!jk x interiordesigner!reader, e2l bc that's beautiful Warnings: oral (f receiving), dirty talk, begging, LOTS OF FIGHTING Rating: 18+ Song: Charlie Puth ft. Meghan Trainor - Marvin Gaye

rqstd

Summary: You never would have thought that you'd be working with the college dropout who was coincidentally your best friend's ex-boyfriend, Jungkook. Saying his name already burns your tongue, you wonder how long you can hold your professionalism around him.

As if your day couldn't get any worse, you stained your newly bought white skirt with coffee. This will probably be the first time that you'll hate coffee. It was only nine in the morning and you have to meet your client within ten minutes, but your alarm just had to be a bitch and not work. Even if it had worked, your eyes were heavy due to the fact that you've been binge-watching the whole Stranger Things series on Netflix.

Finishing your tissue box as you desperately try to get the dark stain off of your skirt, you finally arrive at Ven's house. Lucky you, almost all the parking spots are empty. But in front of his house, there was a cab waiting.

You get off your car and noticed the change in weather. It was obviously going to rain sooner or later, but that didn't bother you.

You try to cover the stain with a folder before approaching him who was already waiting at the front door. There were luggages and bags, and he doesn't look impressed as he glances at his watch before giving you a death stare.

"Took you long enough," he sighs in disappointment.

"I am so, so, sorry! You know how it is, heavy traff-"

"I'm not really interested with your excuse. I need to leave now. I am trusting you with everything," he stares strictly into your eyes, "don't mess this up! I'll be proposing to my girlfriend after this vacation and I want to surprise her with the renovation. Please."

Ven was probably one of the most annoying clients you've dealt with. He smells like arrogance and narcissism, nothing new with men in this city.

You only nod with his statement, which you've heard a thousand times already. His plan of proposing and giving her a home that looks like a home. And Ven knew his house didn't look like a man's house. The first time you saw his place, it was obvious that his lifestyle is the high school boy type. However, it's impressively huge and spacious. You were excited to accept his offer until you started working with him — his personality blew you off.

He wasn't specific with the way he wanted the interior to look like, he was just sort of judging every choice you make. And whenever you ask him for any preference, he'd insist you make the decision. He went with a rustic modern design, which is quite challenging for you since you were always on the modern side. Yet offers like this don't come around too often, you were even lucky that he found your ad on craigslist.

"Oh, and by the way, the materials and furniture will be delivered shortly. I gave the spare key to my cousin who will be helping with whatever you will need." He looks around the house and you followed his gaze, seemingly unsure of leaving it to you.

"He's kind of good at this, you know? Wood work and such. He should be here by now, but I really have to go. You just wait for him and you can have a discussion with the plan." He raises his eyebrows before running towards the cab.

Jeez, he's too excited for that trip. Probably haven't had it in a while.

You've seen pictures of his girlfriend though, and you can understand why he puts so much effort in keeping her comfortable in his place, or maybe two weeks from now will be their place. She's exotically beautiful, curly hair with narrow eyes and bronze skin.

It didn't take a minute after Ven leaves, a bike was already approaching. It was too loud to not catch your attention. You just remembered why you hated bikers so much. He stops right at the pathway, and dear lord, did you feel your world crumple into pieces when you realized who was in the bike as he removes his black shiny helmet.

Jeon motherfucking Jungkook— scratch the middle part. Jeon Jungkook. Jeon. Jung. Kook.

His name spins around your mind like a damn circus and memories from college came like lightning. The one and only Jeon Jungkook who coincidentally cheated on your best friend, the one you have a grudge on for being the reason that your best friend became so different and distant from you ever since the heartbreak he'd given her. But he looks different and can only describe him more as he approaches you.

Classic Jeon. He still has that douchebag walk of his, the slow motion Chris Brown thing he's doing. It irritates your eyes to watch any longer. He's wearing a white shirt paired with black tight jeans, complimenting his muscular thighs. Oh, he still has his Timberlands quirk.

You almost forgot to breathe when he stands in front of you, you noticed his hair was longer than how it used to be back in college. "So, it's you," you say, making sure that disappointment is heard from your tone.

"Sorry, do I know you?" He raises a brow, making you furious and embarrassed.

You might have mistaken him or maybe he had forgotten, but you were sure you flushed a deep red.

"Shit! I'm sorry. I might have mistake—"

He laughs. "I'm joking. Y/N, right?" he asks, and you feel yourself becoming small every second.

"Gosh, you're still an asshole." Your brows knitted, trying to hide your true emotion.

"How long has it been? Five years?" He smiles, running his finger through his messy thick hair. He looks more built than before.

A part of you can't deny that you are curious about what happened to him after getting dropped out of college. You were sure he went to a different university, but you also heard rumors that he never went back to studying and got transferred to a psych ward — but that's far from believable.

Jungkook came from a rich family, his father being a well-known engineer and his mother being a pilot. It bothered no one during college when he dropped out, no one worried about how he would do. His life was known to be stable, and dropping out of college was an easy choice for him.

When he dropped out of college, you didn't think it would affect you too. It was after your best friend, Yeri, broke up with him. She never opened up about it and just told you to keep distance from her.

Now the reason of how your life became so lonely and missing is standing right in front of you, still acting the same.

"Four, actually." You smile sarcastically.

"How have you been? How's Yeri?"

This smug has the nerve to speak her name. You wanted to punch him right then and there.

"Skip the chitchat. Let's just get our work done." You roll your eyes and he smiles widely.

He is honestly astonished when he sees you again. He remembered how you used to have horribly cut short hair, which was cut by Yeri when the both of you were drunk, and you kept it that way because salons aren't really an option when you're a broke college student. He also remembers how you used to always have stains on your clothes, whether it'd be ketchup or makeup.

Standing in front of him is new. He almost didn't recognize you at all. But he can't deny how well you've grown, how good you look. He scans you from head to toe without you noticing and realizes that you still have the love for flowy short skirts, with a stain of course. He smiles knowing that your clumsiness is still with you.

He follows you towards the empty kitchen — cleaned out by Ven to make your job easier in designing it — still smiling like a child on his birthday, he was so happy to see you again, and he knew he couldn't say the same for you. He's very well aware of your hatred towards him and up until now, he's still trying to figure out why.

"Let's start with the walls first. Most of them will be white, but the accents will mostly be in the living room." you discussed, your floor plan laid flat on the kitchen counter.

"And there will be a lot of wood work that needs to be done since we're going for a farmhouse sort of look, but we're making it brighter yet cozy. We'll be putting crown moulding almost everywhere, lots of work already." You point towards the ceiling corners, your eyes focusing on imagining everything done.

"In the living room," you aim your hand towards the space in front of the kitchen, "we'll be installing a chandelier and I'm not good with that so I will need your help. Also more light installations in the hallway and the two bedrooms." After looking up and down at the floor plan and the empty space, you finally land your eyes at Jungkook, who has a dazzling smile splattered around his face.

"Were you even listening to me?" you yell, snapping your fingers in front of him.

"I am, chill out. You just look so serious with all that planning and stuff." He mimics your movements of pointing earlier.

"Oh, really? Then what did I just say?"

"Something something you need my help." He smirks.

"I'm here to get my work done. Can you please cooperate?" you plea, but not in a desperate manner, just the right amount of sass thrown to it.

"If you need my help, I might need you to act like you actually need my help. Or else I'd watch you fall off the ladder as you install a chandelier alone." He crosses his arms on his chest.

So, he was listening.

"When was I rude to you?" you retorted.

He huffs, bringing his finger on his chin and pretended to be thinking. "Maybe when I was politely asking how have you been and you completely shut me off." He grins mischievously.

"That wasn't being rude. I just didn't want to talk about me nor Yeri. This is a job."

"And I'm being a sport. I'm asking my new partner how her life is." You roll your eyes at the nickname. What a sarcastic douche.

You breathe sharply, calming yourself down. "Jungkook, I don't want to argue with you. I need your help and I'm sorry for being rude earlier. Now, can we continue the discussion?"

He smiles at your explanation, feeling contented, but not too contented. He lays his hands on the counter and leans in closer in front of you, putting all his weight on the table.

Good thing the counter is separating him from you, if not, you would've felt even more fiddly.

"Then let's have the discussion, Ma'am." he speaks throatily, his eyes relentlessly scrutinizing yours.

You chose to ignore the stupid nickname, but a part of you couldn't help but be fazed at the same time. You can't let him work his manwhore persona in you, that's beneath you.

Though Jungkook was studiously listening to you, it felt like he had no clue of what you were talking about. He was just mischievously smiling from time to time as if you had said something funny and it makes you unreasonably conscious.

"He said the materials will be arriving today so maybe we can get some work done today. It only has been," you look at your watch, "thirty minutes? Let's just wait 'till they arrive." You plaster a sly beam.

"Sure. Let's talk about how life has been for you, eh?" he teases.

He speaks very breathily, you were sure that it was his breath that you can smell; chocolate peppermint of some kind. You were eager to ask what mouthwash he uses.

"What's with the interest? We never talked in college, Jungkook," you huff.

"As a matter of fact, we did."

You did talk to him a couple of times back then, but it always ended badly. He starts a conversation and you would think it will actually improve your relationship with him, but then the both of you will argue again like an old couple. Yeri used to find it so ridiculous that the both of you never get along.

"Oh, yeah? When?" You knew he would have an answer, but he needed to remember how bad those conversations ended.

"Like that one time when I joined your sleepover with Yeri and she was gone for a few minutes. I asked you if you liked the movie she put on then you said no, I agreed with you after that and we had a discussion about how bad she is at picking movies." he argues.

Yes, of course. That one sleepover when Yeri lied about Jungkook not joining the both of you and he just appeared out of nowhere during that night. That night you found out that Jungkook was a party pooper.

"And guess how that discussion ended? You told me that you hate Hugh Grant's acting and I got so furious because you were being irrational, and you told me I have low standards in acting which I don't, really. And you knew before that that I am a big fan of Hugh Grant, but you chose to be insensitive and insult him in front of me!"

The words came out like a vomit, they just kept coming out. And bewilderment is obvious in his face, just plainly impressed with how much you remember what happened during that night.

"I hated him because you were so obsessed with him," he mutters, as if he was so embarrassed to say it.

"So what? How does that bother you?" Man, Jungkook is the most illogical person on the planet. You would think that he had a better reason now as to why he hated Hugh Grant back then, but his reason is just as stupid as before.

"Whatever. You wouldn't get it," he says in defeat.

You can't handle the idea that you'll be working with him for more than a week. Right after that first argument of the day, silence wraps the both of you, a couple of sighs were exchanged in between.

Maybe today wasn't so bad when the truck of materials arrive not too long after the argument, it would have been so uncomfortable to have both of you waiting 'till dawn without exchanging any words.

You regretted wearing skirt, from the moment the truck driver kept checking you out from head to toe as he unloads the woods and cans of paint from his vehicle.

Surprisingly, Jungkook stands in front of you, maybe trying to conceal you from the dirty man or maybe he didn't know what he was doing, but you thank him for that.

When everything was set, Jungkook approaches the materials and you just watched him examine them all. When he's not being a douchebag, he might look more attractive to you. Seeing him so wrapped up in examining, he looked weirdly attractive. When he turned his eyes to you, you tried to regain your composure.

Did you just check him out? Jeez, Y/N, get a hold of yourself.

"The walls won't paint themselves." He raises a paint roller as he opens the can.

You approach him, softly taking the tool from him. He pours the white paint generously on the paint tray.

He's better when he's quiet, he is less annoying. you thought.

He turns his head up to look at you who was standing in front of him while he squats on the floor, regretting that decision when your legs were the first thing he saw, he returns his gaze on the paint quickly.

"You shouldn't wear skirts when you know you're going to be doing this kind of work."

"Like I'm not aware of that yet. I regret this decision."

He finishes pouring the paint and stands up. You didn't realize he'd be this close when he stands up, too close you can see every golden fleck in his eyes. You admit, you never noticed how endearing they were.

"Where would you like to start?" His eyes focused on yours, as if they're the only things that matter.

"Let's start with the two bedrooms." He nods as a response.

"Do you have a spare of clothing?"

You were confused as to why he'd ask such question, why does he care?

"No." He tilts his head, then analyzes you.

"What an idiot." He proceeds towards the bedroom, leaving you with your mouth wide open. Dickhead!

Working would have been much more serene if Jungkook didn't play that stupid playlist of his. If there's anything you hate more than him, it's punk rock. You never understood the idea of it.

And he has all the lyrics memorized to every song, you can hear him harmonizing with The Clash's songs across the hallway, though he was incredibly good, it was still absolutely distracting.

When he screams the chorus part of 'Should I Stay or Should I Go,' you finally snapped.

"Can you stop that?! Holy shit, I can't focus here!" He has a pleasing voice, but he should use it with other songs, punk doesn't suit him.

It took him awhile to respond and you felt almost guilty. He stops the music and you hear him shuffle from the other room.

Your mind filled with regret, maybe you have offended him. You sigh, lazily rolling the paint on the wall. You shouldn't even feel guilty, you wanted him to stop and he did, you should be happy. But you realized that he was just happily singing, not harming you or trying to offend you in any way. He was just enjoying his choice of music. You hiss, dropping the paint roller on your tray, approaching him to the other room.

Jungkook was already standing at the doorstep, making you gasp in surprise. But he was just as surprised as you, what the hell was he doing by the door?

He was going to approach you first, but to his disbelief, you were also about to approach him.

"Wh-what the hell are you doing here?" You wanted to apologize for offending him, but your mouth couldn't help but be a bitch.

"I was going to say sorry for being too loud," he timidly says.

"Oh, okay." Your eyes blink a few more times, searching for courage to tell him you were also sorry for offending him.

"I-I'm also sorry for maybe offending you. I didn't want to come off rude, I just.." you lick your bottom lip, "Wanted everything to be quiet. I don't really like punk music," you admit.

"Oh?" he scratches his nape, "you don't?"

You faintly shake your head.

"I thought you did. Yeri told me you loved punk so I chose that playlist." You feel your heart dropped, you were such a horrible person for not considering him.

Also, why would Yeri tell him that you loved punk? Yeri knew that you hated punk, as if you haven't made enough hate comments about it during college when Green Day peaked. Why would he also even consider your taste in music? Even if he thought you loved punk, why would he choose to play your interest?

"No. She was probably lying. I hate punk, she knew that." He purse his lips together, trying to come up with what to say.

"What a bummer. I memorized all that to impre- you know what? Let's change it, then. What's your genre?" he enthusiastically asks.

"I have a sweet spot for soul." Right when you said that, his eyes lit up.

"Really? Like Marvin Gaye?"

"Yes! Exactly." Never in your life you would have though that you'd smile unironically in front of Jungkook as he smiles back.

"I love him, too! Y/N, you would love this playlist." He runs towards the other room and a few seconds later, 'Ain't No Mountain High Enough' starts playing, your old time favorite.

"Oh, my God! This one's my favorite!" The both of you start singing along to the lyrics and laughed a couple of times, without noticing that this was the first time that you actually enjoyed his company. His voice was the perfect puzzle piece for this genre, just raw and effortlessly silvery.

But none of you ever realized it, the both of you were having fun together. Jungkook sings a line, and you sing the other.

You sigh, finally finishing the last wall in the house, Jungkook already resting on the floor. His legs were extended in front of him as he breathes peacefully. He just finished his wall a few seconds ago, and the playlist have stopped two hours ago, so it was just the both of you in silence.

It was six in the evening, rain pours harshly outside and you were waiting for it to settle down before proceeding to go home. You knew you wouldn't be able to make it to your car without getting wet.

Jungkook thought the same, he wouldn't be able to go home with his bike. And now that even the both of you are done with the first work, you were stuck together until the skies clear up.

"I'm starving." he groans, massaging his own shoulder.

"I'm itching to take a shower." You flop to the ground in front of him, forming a 'w' with your legs.

"The rain doesn't sound like it's ever gonna stop." Jungkook places his hands behind him, propping himself up as he throws his head back.

His eyes were close and you didn't even try to stop yourself from staring at him. He was sweaty and his shirt was already wet, you wonder why he was still worried of getting wet under the rain when he's soaked as ever — just like you.

He lifts an eyelid, looking at you in his peripheral vision with a thin eye, too lazy to bring his head up. You turn your head away, gulping as you realize how stupid that was.

"So, uhm... what happened?" he uttered before closing his eyes again. He felt discomfort looking at your messy state, he can almost see through your shirt.

"What do you mean?"

He sighs heavily, "what happened after college? What happened after I dropped out?"

You think about it for a second, but nothing interesting has really happened in your life aside from getting into relationships and looking for clients. College had been easy, but not too easy, just enough to bring the best in you.

"Be more specific. I can't discuss my whole routine ever since you dropped out." you irked.

He lazily laughs at your response, "how many boyfriends have you had? Don't tell me you dated that Yoongi guy?" How did he even find out about Yoongi?

Though Yoongi goes in the same university, he was in a different department and you were sure that you never mentioned that to Jungkook. Of course, Yeri mentioned it to him.

You and Yoongi didn't work out. It was a stupid three month fling and it all ended with a 'it's not you, it's me' from him. Nothing too serious even after Yoongi, just a couple of one night stands and one time meet ups from Tinder guys you used to talk with. And you gave up after the last guy brought his own daughter during the date. You cringe just thinking about it.

"Can you please list all the things Yeri told you about me? I feel violated against having you know a lot about me without even asking for permission." you huff.

"Hmm," he finally looks at you, crossing his legs in front of him, "wait, I'm counting." He laughs.

"You're into men with thick hair. You hide all your food in your closet. You're allergic to strawberries, but you can't help but drink strawberry flavored milk. You like to l-"

"Stop right there! What the actual fuck? You sound like a stalker, you know that?" you snap, feeling like your whole life had been aired on national tv.

"Yeri told me all of that."

No, she didn't. Yeri never found out about the food in the closet thing. How would he know that?

"You're lying. Yeri doesn't know about my food closet." You narrow your eyes.

He blinks a few more times, not coming up with anything to say.

"I found out about it," he inhales as he turns away from your gaze, "when you and Yeri got so drunk in the bar, and you unknowingly suggested that I drive the both of you to your place. So, I did. And you puked all over yourself and I had to cover you up because you were taking your clothes off in front of me. I opened your closet where your clothes would be and bam, oreos and kitkats fell on the floor."

You mentally facepalmed yourself. But you swore that it was Yeri that drove you home that night, or maybe it was all a drunk imagination.

"No need to be embarrassed about it, it was years ago," he enunciates the 'years'.

"Right! Like I'm supposed to feel comfortable now knowing that you almost saw me naked?!" You stand up and it took him seconds before also standing up to face you.

"That's not my point," he says calmly.

"I don't care what your point is. You could've just left when you dropped us off."

He rolls his eyes, knowing that this will turn into another argument.

"I didn't because you puked all over yourself! Jeez, y/n. Did you want to wake up in your own vomit?" he fumes, nostrils flaring.

You knew your stand was weak, but embarrassment gets the best of you to continue hating on Jungkook.

"Maybe you could've just slapped me to sober me up rather than have me stripping naked in front of you!"

"Now, why would I do that? So, you can slap me back when you're sober?" He stands tall in front of you. You can feel his hot breath on your face, and it weakens your knees.

"Yes, I guess that's the point. I've always wanted to slap you." you say in a low whisper, knowing that your point was invalid.

"What the fuck did I do to make you hate me?"

Honestly, you had no answer. You forgot when it started, but you were sure you feel so much for him. So much anger, so much madness.

"Maybe because you're an asshole? Or because of your stupid walk like you think you're in some kind of music video! And your loud ass bike, I already hate you when you arrived!" Right when you said that, the rain had stopped and you wish it didn't, because silence came back like a friend.

Jungkook just stares at you. His brows knitted together as they focus on your features. He didn't know you hated him so much just for being himself. Sure, he did look like an asshole, but he was still clueless what was with him that you dislike.

The guilt from earlier came back. You bit your lip before breaking the silence.

"I didn-"

"You should go home," he cuts, leaving you alone as he goes to the bathroom.

You admit, that day was a roller coaster. You were already unlucky with the coffee stain, then you had to sleep thinking of Jungkook's reaction from all your mean remarks. You wish you can just stop thinking about the pain in his eyes, but every night it keeps coming back.

It has been eight days of you ringing the idea of apologizing to him, but your mouth stays shut all the time. Though the both of you exchange awkward glances at each other, facing him was harder than you thought. You did talk, but mostly just commanding him in design placements, and he stays quiet just like you.

It's always waking up at nine in the morning and driving to Ven's place. Jungkook was always earlier than you, if not drinking iced coffee, he'd be sawing planks or painting them the color you told him to.

Deep down inside you, you knew he deserved an apology, and you try to muster up enough courage, but he's always so menacing like he's mad — of course, he's mad.

It's when you try to get near him, you feel so small and fragile. Your body stays and you're lost for words. You're just waiting for the perfect opportunity, and you wish for it to arrive soon. Instead, the furniture arrived, and the house felt more crowded than ever.

Jungkook leaves all the paint work to you and he suggests that he does all the sawing and installation.

So you sit across the room from him, trying to obtain your focus on properly painting the piece of wood held against your palm, you fail miserably. You've been painting the same spot for a while now and your eyes are pinned on Jungkook who was busy sawing the two planks left.

He doesn't look at you though, his eyes were very much attached on the wood piece in front of him. You grew a little jealous, if only you were a wood.

"Fuck." Jungkook groans and you find yourself running towards him as you catch a glimpse of blood.

"Are you okay?" You innocently take his hand from his own tight grip, studying the cut he had made. It was deep and is probably going to bleed more.

You tug him softly towards the sink to wash the wound, blood dripping away and revealing its deep cut.

Jungkook just peers at you, unbothered by the pain his wound is giving him. Your soft hands were enough to make him feel better. You didn't look like your usual self, you weren't furious at him. Your face is painted with concern, and he finds himself gently blinking at your beauty.

He wouldn't have cut himself if you weren't staring. He knew you were just looking at him from across the room and he became conscious, the feeling of being watched was new to him.

"It's not too deep. No need for stitches. But you need to cover it up because it will keep bleeding." You finally turn to see him, his height hovering above you as always. He looked tired, but still effortlessly good-looking.

You guessed this was it. The right time for you to apologize. You push all your pride away and cleared your throat.

"Kook, I'm sorry for what I said. I shouldn't have judged you for being you. I spent so many years holding my grudge against you. I should've just moved on, you and Yeri happened years ago and things have changed. I was a bitch to you. Maybe you're not who you used to be anymore, you know?" You bit your bottom lip, scared of what he has to say.

What if he never forgives me?

He studies you for a brief second, absorbing all of what you had just said.

"Who I used to be? What was I like?" he points out, not convinced with your apology.

"You know? The one who cheated on my bestfriend?" The space between his brows narrowed quickly, face growing curious.

"Cheated? Who said I cheated on Yeri?" his voice tight.

"Uhm, she did? She said she caught you sleeping with another girl," you say cluelessly.

"I never cheated on her. In fact, Yeri and I never even happened. I thought she would've told you by now," he sternly informs.

You were confused. There might have been another side to the story that you didn't bother to dig into. Maybe you have misjudged Jeon Jungkook all this time, and you bestfriend chose not to tell every detail.

"Look, Yeri and I never really dated. I thought you knew?" Well, I didn't.

"No. She never talked to me after she broke up with you. After you dropped out, we drifted apart," you explain.

"Y/n, there was never a break up. Yeri convinced me that you like me, and the only way I'll get you to confess is if we fake dated each other. And I've always liked you back then, so I agreed to her plan," he exhales.

He liked me?

"I know it was a dumb idea, but I was desperate. Until she confessed to me that she was starting to like me and I rejected her, telling her that we should stop our agreement. She lied. She told me you liked me when you never really did just to convince me to fake date her."

Maybe that was the reason why Yeri never wanted to see you again. She was in pain, and seeing you made her heartache worse. She knew she ruined your friendship, and she dislike the fact that you were so clueless about it.

"How would I even know if you're telling the truth?" You were convinced, but you were still trying to connect the dots.

"Because everyday, I'd ask her about you. How you were like, how you acted. I wanted to know you and she was the only way to you." He gazes over your flustered face, pink cheeks vibrantly showing through.

"Jesus christ, y/n, I memorized a whole Green Day album for you because she said you loved them." You were so angry with all the lies built between the both of you, you press harder on his wound and he flinches.

"Hey, are you mad at me?" No, not at you.

"I guess she never told you that I gave you french vanilla coffee everyday, huh?" he adds.

"That was you?"

Back then in college, Yeri would always offer you a cup of coffee, saying that the barista was her relative and she gets free coffee all the time.

"Can I ask you a question?" Jungkook brings his hand down, pain leaving his wound as he finds more interest in the topic.

You nod as a response, visibly speechless.

"Did you really like me before or was it Yeri's ploy up?"

You recall the first time you saw him. It was during the chess tournament and he was one of the players, he looked fixated in the game which drew your attention to him, he was the only one attractive in that room. Yeri was beside you that time and you remember telling her about the guy in the Timberlands, enthusiastically praising the way he played.

But that was one time, and you didn't really exactly say you liked him. You did like him though, maybe a little bit, however you stopped right when you heard the news about him and Yeri.

You just found yourself one day overly hating everything he does, except you were never sure if your strong emotions for him were positive or negative. And if the news of them dating actually made you feel happy for your best friend.

"I liked you," you mumble, almost inaudible but he heard it so clearly.

His face lit up in joy. Who would've thought that years later, you'll find each other again?

This was more than the apology you had planned, it was way better. You feel yourself lighten, your stomach fluttering every passing moment.

"Do you still like me?" His body inching closer, your back hitting the counter top.

His eyes twinkle in a hopeful manner, cheeks tense, waiting for your answer. He looked so pure and charming, but maybe it was because he stands so close near you, the only thing clear were his eyes, so shiny and glimmering with happiness.

"I think so?" you stammered.

Jungkook eyes you up and down, closing the gap between the both of you while he admires you. But you felt like that wasn't enough, he still felt far. You reckon that he might just be making sure, trying to slow things down before wanting to take you then and there. He wanted to, badly.

His lips never looked more appetizing as he licks them. You breathe shakily, controlling yourself from your flaming need of kissing him. You wanted him to be the first one to make a move, but he was taking so long, he was only delicately arousing you.

Even though he was all soaked from his sweat, he smells just as good as he did in the morning: minty vanilla of some kind.

You inhale sharply, screw it!

Your hand grips his nape, pulling him to latch your lips onto his. He felt just like what you've imagined, like the first sip of coffee on a rainy day, very satisfying. He grins into the kiss, before putting his arm around your torso and lifting you on the counter. Your skirt did not help stop the breeze from entering your inner thighs, making you shiver.

Your doubt wasn't enough for Jungkook to make the first move, he needed to know if you really wanted him, and he felt like bursting when you kissed him. Four fucking years of his miserable life trying to pretend that everything was okay, he finally got you.

You wrap both your arms around his neck as he gently skims his other hand on your exposed thigh. Grumbling, he tries to thrust into thin air, desperate of friction. You curse as he attaches his tongue onto the intersection of your jaw and neck, immediately finding your sweet spot. He mumbles something before proceeding to bite you, but you were far distracted to make a word out of it.

Jungkook stops his ministrations and your eyes opened in concern.

"We have a king size to ourselves." he whispers thickly.

"But it's not ours. Ven will ge-"

"Ven's not here, is he?"

You nod, only because you were so desperate to feel him inside you and it's evident with the way you feel your core throbbing inside you. Jungkook kisses you one last time, this time softly and quick, and picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he proceeds to the bedroom, bumping a few walls on the way as he yearns to feel your lips again.

He lays you in the middle like a fragile jewelry, inserting his tongue roughly inside you as you gasp when you felt his finger draw circles on your slit. Without wasting a second, he tugs your panties down and you kicked them off to help him out.

He groans when he played the tip of his finger in your entrance, spreading your juices around. You try to close the gap between your thighs, and this didn't go unnoticed by Jungkook.

He moves closer to your heat, leaving you mouth unoccupied. He looks at you through lidded eyes before disappearing under your skirt, still pulling your thighs on his shoulder.

The first lick was subtle, but it felt like ecstasy, satisfied that this is already happening. He only uses the tip of his tongue to flick your clit, making you jolt in pleasure. Holy fuck, was he good at this.

You were so wet, you can almost hear every motion he did against your area. You arch your back when he inserts a finger, twitching it endlessly inside you as if his mouth wasn't enough yet.

You cry a high pitch moan, motivating him to insert a second finger and when he did, he moves slower, his tongue violently pressing on your clit, shaking his head in the process to add to your pleasure. You grunt his name, making him groan as well, sending tiny waves of vibrations to your pussy.

He disappoints when he stopped. He stands — mouth still wet from your juices — unfastening his belt and removing every piece of clothing. What a sight. You didn't notice that he had a tattoo on his collarbone up until now, but even so, you're still not able to read it, your eyes only focused on his muscular build.

He was so huge and long, the first one you've encountered to be this big. You bit your lip when he pumps himself a couple of times before sitting beside you, patting his thighs to signal you to sit on it.

He places both of his hands on your waist, bringing your entrance right before the tip of his dick.

He smiles. "Are you sure?" And you nod so quickly, ceasing every moment.

"Beg." His smile disappears, indulge with the way you reacted, plainly innocent which he thought was adorable.

It wasn't something you've done before. You never begged for a fucking dick in your life, but Jungkook didn't make you doubt. You want this and you want him, and all will be yours if you beg, only for his satisfaction. Without wasting any more time, desperation filling your bloodstream, you begged.

"Please, Jungkook. I want your cock inside me. I need to feel you, want to clench around your dick." Without further a do, he slips inside you. His eyes remained on your reaction, your brows furrowed and bottom lip bitten.

He lifts your weight slowly, then thrusts back just as slow. It was torturous, too agitating. And he kept his steady deliberate pace, leaving you on edge every time. You grip his shoulder to maintain your balance because you felt like passing out with all the pleasure he's delivering.

"Faster, Kookie." He grins at the new nickname, but he wasn't convinced to fasten his speed.

"The slower - shit - the longer the orgas-m." You clench on him as he talked, slapping him on the shoulder for being such a tease. But he did a few sharp thrusts from time to time and it's enough to have you clinging for more.

"Y/n, fuck, eyes on me," he growls, and you look at him, sweaty and as hungry for release. "Keep them on me, baby," he demands, struggling to let out a stern voice with all the pulsating that you were doing around him.

"Feels so good," thrusts "taking my cock so well." he grunts through ragged breaths, his cock twitching inside you, calling for release almost.

You push his hair back, taking a better look at him and his eyes. He looked so good being this frustrated, just aching to cum.

"I'm gonna cum, I'm cumming, fuck." you tighten around him, eyes still attached to his, exploding in bliss and euphoria. And he came right after you, grunting while he looks at you in the eye as he grips on your waist harder. Moans filled the room, the both of you staring at each other while he keeps thrusting into you.

He was right. The orgasm felt so long, you were shaking above him and he finally shuts his eyes, shoving himself deeper and pulling your waist to him. His warm release drips on your thigh as you pass out on his shoulder, leaving him inside you.

"That felt so amazing," you cry, continuing to hug his heated body.

"You're so beautiful," he breathes and you look at him, blushing intensely.

"We could've done this sooner if you weren't such a pussy and just confessed," you bargain, resting your head on his shoulder again.

"You were so feisty, y/n. How was I supposed to gain courage?" he responds, lifting you from him and positioning you beside him as he cuddles you.

"Excuses excuses, blah blah blah."

He laughs, rubbing your stomach. "I think we should get off this bed now. I'm feeling guiltier every passing second."

You smirk. “Shower it is."

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