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mcdonaldsplayground · 1 year

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| actually the worst | part 5

ao’nung x f!reader

summary: it’s been a month and you’re still fuming over what ao’nung did to lo’ak. however, when kiri asks you to hear him out, you find it easier to forgive him than you thought. a trip to the cove of ancestors seems to solidify the newly restored friendship and also encourages a new aspect of your relationship that you weren’t expecting. when things inevitably go wrong at the spirit tree, ao’nung plays a surprisingly strong role in getting you through the traumatic events of the night.

includes: enemies to lovers, teasing, swearing, mildly suggestive remarks, mentions of seizure/death, ao'nung being... a sweetheart?🫢

word count: 4.3k

a/n: oh my god i am so sorry this took me forever to write! the past few days have just been so busy, but it's finally done😮‍💨 i'm thinking one, maaaaybe two more parts depending on what i can come up with for part 6:)

Okay, so maybe you did like him. A little. Like a minuscule amount. It was microscopic, really.

You had spent the past month fervently denying it anytime your siblings poked fun at you or when you found yourself thinking about it. However, a few days ago you were sitting on the beach, watching your siblings fool around with the Metkayina kids when you realized you had been staring at Ao’nung for an embarrassingly long time. You hadn’t spoken a word to him since the Lo’ak incident, but you’d been staring practically whenever you thought it was safe to do so. Sometimes you thought about everything you disliked about him and fantasized about punching him. Most of the time you were fantasizing about- well…

The point was that you finally decided you couldn’t deny your attraction to him any longer. But that didn’t mean you were about to let anyone else know that. Especially not him.

“[Y/N], are you coming?” Kiri’s head poked into the marui. You stopped braiding the bracelet you were working on, quickly hiding it behind your back as it was going to be a gift for Kiri’s birthday in a few days. Technically it would be your birthday too, but you preferred to celebrate her.

“Where are you going?” You asked excitedly, starting to ready yourself for what you assumed was going to be one of your nightly explorations of the island.

“Tsireya is taking us to the spirit tree!” Kiri exclaimed, clearly more than happy to be going.

“Oh…” You couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed. You certainly wanted a chance to finally see the spirit tree of the Metkayina, something you sorely missed about home. However, you knew who would be tagging along on the journey and it was not someone you wanted to be around. “Maybe just go without me.” You mumbled.

“Nonsense, you need to go. It is important!” Your mother stood from her spot next to your dad as they finished eating their dinner together. She squatted down next you, placing a comforting hand on your leg. “You have been sulking around for many days, [Y/N]. I think it will be good for you to go with your friends.” Her smile was kind, reassuring. It’s not like you could tell her why you really didn’t want to go.

“Alright.” You caved, mustering a small smile for Neytiri before you followed Kiri out the door. She was practically skipping.

“Maybe you should make up with Ao’nung, tonight.” She said airily, and you choked on your own spit.

“W-what?” Kiri barked out a laugh, shaking her head.

“Relax. I said make up. Not make out.” Her eyes danced with laughter as you tried to ignore your heated cheeks. Even she, your trusted twin, had not been able to resist teasing you about the bane of your existence.

“Either way, it’s not gonna happen, Ki.” You pursed your lips. She smiled, looping her arm through yours.

“He’s not so bad anymore.” She was no longer teasing, but you snorted out a laugh anyway. “I’m being serious! I still don’t like him much, but you have to admit that he’s been incredibly civil lately.” She was right, of course. The Metkayina boy was still a snarky moron, but he’d actually been getting along with everyone. He’d even attempted to apologize to you, but you were making it incredibly difficult by avoiding and outright ignoring him. “Just give him a chance to talk to you, okay? You don’t have to forgive him if you don’t want to.”

“Fine,” You sighed, wishing anyone but Kiri had asked you this favour. “Though I think cutting my own leg off would be preferable to listening to him speak.”

“Listening to who speak?” You shouldn’t have been surprised that he had snuck up on you yet again. It was becoming ritual at this point.

“Is nothing I say ever private to you?” You whipped around, meeting those shining blue eyes. It was the first time you had made real eye contact with him in weeks.

“I’m going to go meet the others. I’ll let them know you guys are on the way.” Kiri whispered, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze before she took off in the direction of the beach. You swear you saw her grinning.

“So you’re talking to me now, forest girl?” Ao’nung’s deep voice was neutral, but his small smirk betrayed his satisfaction.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. It’s not exactly my choice.” You scoffed, finding a small bit of amusement in the fact that Ao’nung didn’t know what panties were. You could see him fighting the urge to ask.

“I suppose you’re expecting me to apologize.” He finally said, looking incredibly uncomfortable. It was clear that he didn’t make apologies often.

“I suppose I am.” You echoed, crossing your arms.

“I’m sorry.” He bit out. You blinked, waiting for him to continue. The soft chirping of insects and the distant rush of the shoreline were the only sounds as the two of you stood, awkwardly staring. When it became clear that he didn’t plan on saying anything else, you let out a short, bitter laugh.

“You can’t be serious.” You turned to go, thinking about what a waste of time that was. However, you only made it about two steps before a callused but incredibly gentle hand closed around your arm, tugging you back.

“Wait.” He breathed, sighing softly. You turned slowly back to face him.

“I really am sorry, [Y/N].” You stilled at the sound of your name passing his lips. You couldn’t think of a time when he had actually said it. It was always forest girl, or freak. The way your name sounded coming from him was intriguing. He said it like a prayer. Like you were something to be worshipped. It made it difficult to pay attention to the rest of his apology.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me.” He frowned, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t deserve it, honestly. But I just feel really desperate for you to know that I learned my lesson that night. I kept on imagining what could have happened, how it could have turned out. I- I have nightmares about it still,” He paused briefly, looking past you for a moment as if seeing something you weren’t. Your heart clenched. “I’ve spent my whole life trying to impress people. Trying to be funny and unbothered and worthy of being the future Olo’eyktan. I don’t know when that made me into a monster, but I don’t want to be that anymore.” He swallowed deeply, nervously shuffling from foot to foot while avoiding your eyes. The sight was unbearable.

Without thinking, you stepped closer, reaching up to place your hand on his cheek. Startled, he looked up from the ground, meeting your gaze.

“I forgive you, Ao’nung.” Your words were almost inaudible, but you felt him shiver slightly beneath your touch. Slowly, his hand extended out to rest on your waist, inching the two of you closer than ever. His breathing was slow and methodic and you instinctively reached up, placing a hand over his rapid heartbeat, completely unable to look anywhere but his blown pupils. Your mind felt impossibly slow, barely registering anything other than Ao’nung’s grip on your waist and the fire it was spreading all along your body. It was when his lips brushed ever so lightly across yours- so excruciatingly close to being a kiss- that you came rushing back to reality.

“Jesus christ, I’m sorry…” You took a faltering step back, shivering at the loss of contact when Ao’nung’s hands fell away from you. “I- That-” You stumbled over your words, so utterly embarrassed that you couldn’t think properly.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed…” He shook his head, stepping back a bit.

“I mean- I’m just- I need some, like, some time.” You finally got out the words, hoping you weren’t sounding like a jerk. “You did almost kill my brother, after all.” A breathy laugh escaped your lips, but you instantly regret your words when you realized how terrible they sounded. However, they rang somewhat true. It seemed ridiculous to be macking on the boy immediately after he apologized. You didn’t want to be that desperate.

“So… can we go back to how things were, then?” He asked, his signature smirk playing at his lips. Relief flooded you as you processed his words, glad to be offered a way out of the mess you had just created.

“I don’t know,” You shrugged. “Are you willing to go back to getting your ego demolished by me?” You quirked and eyebrow, earning a scoff from him.

“You wish, freak.” He suddenly turned, starting toward the beach. “Better catch up before everyone leaves without us!”

You huffed, jogging to match to his long strides. “Maybe I can convince them to leave you behind.”

No one said a thing when the two of you strolled up to the water together, looking what you assumed was at least somewhat amicable. Your friends and siblings just shared quick, knowing looks before you all mounted your ilus and started off for the cove of ancestors.

Ao’nung rode beside you throughout most of the journey, and the two of you traded sarcastic remarks and snide comments, seemingly making up for lost time. It felt good, almost normal again, and you found yourself thinking that maybe a friendship with the infuriating boy was actually possible.

"We're here!" Tsireya finally called out, slowing down to allow everyone else to catch up and take in the surroundings. It was truly an incredible sight, with the soft glow from the underwater bioluminescence and lush green vegetation, all surrounded by the jutting silhouette of large curved rocks and smaller suspended chunks of land. You glanced around at the faintly illuminated faces of your companions and a swell of contentment filled your chest. You missed your home in the forest deeply, but you felt that the ocean and its islands had rightfully won a place in your heart, and that gaping wound left by your grief was beginning to hurt a lot less.

"So beautiful." You breathed.

"Yes." Ao'nung agreed, and you turned to where he was floating, already staring at you. You flushed slightly under his gaze, wondering how long he had been focused on you.

"I think you have some drool on your chin." You quipped, and he quickly brought his hand up to his face, looking slightly alarmed. Seconds later, he caught on. His face twisted into that of annoyed amusement. The two of you had never entered this territory of playful flirting before, but he seemed game.

"Very funny, forest girl," He simpered. "And pretty bold coming from someone who's been eye-fucking me for the past month."

Your jaw slackened as everyone else burst out laughing, including Kiri, who you shot a betrayed look.

"What does that mean?" Tuk piped up from her spot on Neteyam's ilu, looking confused. It seemed most of you had forgotten she was there.

"Oh shit- I mean, it's nothing, Tuk." Ao'nung quickly backtracked, earning a threatening glare from Neteyam and another round of muffled laughs from everyone else. Even you could barely hold yourself together.

"Just don't repeat that to mom and dad." Neteyam sighed, shaking his head.

"Why don't we go to the spirit tree now?" Tsireya spoke up, still smiling. Thankfully, everyone nodded and started dismounting into the water. You swam closer to Ao'nung, lightly smacking his arm.

"Nice going, genius." You snickered and the colour in his cheeks deepened.

"Shut it." He rolled his eyes at your continued laughter, though a smile was creeping onto his lips. Eventually, he was full-on grinning, the look so genuine that it was almost shocking. The only two expressions he ever seemed to make were akin to scowling or smirking. This was something entirely new. You realized your gaze had become fixed on the curve of his lips and blushed.

"Who's drooling now?" Ao'nung laughed, settling back into his signature taunting smirk. You decided not to let an opportunity pass you by.

"Don't get any ideas, freak." You shrugged. "I was just thinking that I've never seen you smile like that." Your heart sped up as you finished your sentence.

"Like what?"

"Well... like you're actually happy. You usually just look like an asshole with a debilitating god complex." You had to round things out with an insult, thinking you were inflating his ego a little too much. He just smiled and shook his head, finally turning to swim after the others.

"If you didn't hate me so much I'd think you were in love with me." He said before he dove under the water, heading for the spirit tree.

"If you didn't act like such a skxawng then maybe I would be..." You mumbled, diving under too as you became consumed by your own thoughts. Less than an hour ago the two of you had been seconds away from kissing, but you couldn't seem to let yourself go through with it, like it was somehow offensive to the very core of your being, despite your growing feelings. So why, after such a rejection, were you unrelentingly teasing and flirting?

You had only been attempting to return to what was normal- known territory- between you and Ao'nung. Teasing each other was like breathing. But now that you understood your feelings for him, it was fun to flirt a little bit, especially because you had convinced yourself it was a harmless action, more of a game than anything else. Because you couldn't help but fear that's just what you were to him: a game to be played and won.

So that's how it would be, you decided. You would be happy to oblige in this self-indulgent game so long as it never became more. He was still the bane of your existence, after all.

Connecting to the tree brought you back home both figuratively and literally. The tree of souls flashed in your memory, and with it a thousand little reminders of the life you had left behind. The first time you went hunting with your father, exploring the forest as a child with Kiri, playfully fighting with Lo'ak and Spider, bonding with your ikran, sleeping next to your family and breathing as the forest breathed with you. All of these experiences were collected in your mind like beautiful, treasured shells. It was was wonderful to have them on display.

You eventually ended up in a memory that you didn't even know you had, blinking as you trekked along one of the thick vines that connected the hallelujah mountains together. You harbored many memories like this, certainly, but this specific one felt different somehow. You strained to think of when this had taken place.

"Hurry up, slow poke!" You found yourself calling out, a laugh bubbling from your chest when someone groaned behind you. You turned your head and struggled to make sense of your companion.

"When you said you were going to show me your home, this is not what I pictured us doing." Ao'nung frowned, glancing warily over the side of the vine you both walked upon.

"No? What exactly were you picturing, then, Nung?" You queried and Ao'nung's lips split into what you could only describe as a suggestive grin. Since when the hell did you call him that? Everything about this was so strange to you. It was clearly not one of your memories at all.

"Oh, you know, maybe a little less dangerous hiking and a little more finding a secluded spot to-"

"Oh my Eywa!" You- or at least this alternate version of you- yelped, shaking your head. "Just keep walking, you sick bastard."

"Just putting ideas out there.." He chuckled, suddenly pushing forward to catch up to you. He slung his arm around your waist, pulling you into him like it was the most natural action in the world. You tried to stop alternate you from leaning into his touch, to no avail.

You leaned in closer, standing on your tiptoes to whisper into his ear. "You're so desperate, Ao'nung." He shivered.

"Only for you, forest girl."

You ripped your queue away from the tree, breathing heavily as you desperately tried to work through whatever that was. You had never experienced anything like it before, even when you connected to the tree of souls back home. It scared you.

When you had calmed yourself a little, you looked around at the others, most of whom were still connected peacefully. Ironically, only Ao'nung seemed to be finished as well, his eyes settled on you through the layers of glowing fronds from the tree. He gave you a questioning look, sending you briefly back to your supposed trek through the mountains with him. Your cheeks burned, wishing you could just forget about it entirely. Ao'nung opened his mouth to speak, but didn't get the chance when the fronds around you suddenly began flashing and pulsing.

You snapped your head around, trying to find the source of the change when your searching eyes landed on your twin. Her body was impossibly rigid, her neck bent back as she shook somewhat violently. You immediately dove toward her, disconnecting her queue from the tree as Neteyam swam up and grabbed her, pulling her upwards. You grasped onto her stiff hand, trying to still the tremors that had her fingers twitching. You briefly registered Ao'nung on the other side of her, helping Neteyam swim her to the surface.

When you all burst through the water, panting, you wasted no time in lifting Kiri onto the back of Neteyam's ilu.

"Is she breathing? Is she breathing?" Rotxo asked worriedly, and you mentally thanked him for saying what was on your mind. You couldn't seem to speak as your throat constricted with fear.

Neteyam hopped up beside Kiri and blew a few breaths into her lungs, thankfully getting her chest moving on its own again.

"Let's, go! We have to take her back!" Lo'ak yelled, urging Neteyam forward. As soon as he took off, your hand slipped out of Kiri's, leaving you even more afraid than before. Your own body was stiff, your mind running through a thousand thoughts a second. Everyone around you was mounting their ilus and taking off toward home, but you were panicking too much to even keep yourself properly afloat. Water entered your throat as you hyperventilated, your head beginning to feel extremely light.

"[Y/N]!" Ao'nung's voice sounded distant, but he was somehow directly beside you in the water, offering a hand. You grasped onto it and he pulled you quickly up next to him like you weighed nothing at all. "Just hold on, okay?" He said directly into your ear, his tone urgent but kind. Since you were in front of him, there was nothing much to grab onto except for the arm that was gripping the ilu's saddle. Evidently, that did not seem to be enough for him because as you went speeding along the water, he wrapped his free arm protectively around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

The ride back felt like mere minutes, thankfully, but Neteyam and Kiri were nowhere to be seen along the shoreline when you arrived. You hoped that meant they were already inside your marui and getting help.

You were so intent upon getting to Kiri quickly that you stumbled getting off of the ilu, your shaking legs nearly buckling before Ao'nung was there again, grasping onto your arm to steady you. When you found your balance once again, he let go, but stayed close behind as the two of you ran for your marui pod.

"Kiri!" You cried as you approached, catching a glimpse of her lying on the floor of the pod. There were many people scurrying around her, trying to figure out what was wrong, but they kindly made room for you to kneel beside her, taking her hand in yours once again.

"What is the matter?" You looked up frantically, searching the faces of anyone close by in hopes that they had an answer. Most of them looked just as clueless and frightened as you, including your parents. Only Ronal seemed somewhat calm, examining Kiri from her other side. You caught her eyes and a look of pity passed over her features.

"I do not know yet what is afflicting her, child." Ronal said calmly, but you grimaced at her words, your breaths once again starting to come out short and fast. "But she is stable, now. She is asleep. I believe it is her body trying to recover." You relaxed some upon hearing 'recover', but the incident was still fresh and playing over and over through your mind. You just wanted Kiri to open her eyes, to prove to you that you had not lost her.

"Just fix it!" You knew it was unfair to yell and get mad at everyone who was just trying to help, but you didn't know what else to do. You jumped a little when a warm hand rested on your shoulder from behind. Your mother's eyes were filled with worry, but she spoke gently.

"Leave us to help Kiri, [Y/N]. The Tsahìk needs space to work, my daughter." She urged kindly, gently tugging your elbow to pull you up. You reluctantly released Kiri's hand, still breathing hard. Not knowing where to go, you awkwardly spun on your heel, looking around for a better place to stand. Ao'nung caught your eye from where he stood in the doorway and gestured for you to follow him outside. You didn't really want to go far from Kiri, but the rational part of you knew it would be best, so you obliged. As soon as you stepped out the door, Ao'nung grabbed your hand, guiding you away from your marui and down the short path to the beach. You stopped when you reached the sand, the two of you just standing and staring out into the vast stretch of water. Something about it seemed to snap the last little bit of restraint in you, and you began to whimper, a fresh round of burning tears making their way down your cheeks. Your whimpers turned into loud cries mixed with hyperventilating as you lost all control of yourself. You were so far gone that you didn't even question it when Ao'nung suddenly pulled you into his arms, folding them loosely around you, as if unsure of himself. The comfort of it felt so insanely good that you pressed into him further, stretching a bit to wrap your arms around his neck. He took that as a good sign and pulled his arms tighter, forcing your head to rest on his chest as you cried.

"She will be alright. Eywa will protect her." He whispered to you, his thumbs drawing comforting circles along your back. He held you that way for a long time, not once loosening his grip on you even as you began to calm, sniffling for a bit before eventually growing silent. Your breathing fell into a slow, methodic rhythm that was somewhat in tune with the strong and steady heartbeat you could hear through Ao'nung's chest. Your eyes fluttered shut, just allowing yourself to feel the body against yours. The strength of the arms holding you in place. The smooth skin beneath your cheek. The pleasant warmth of the fingers trailing across your back. You sighed heavily, releasing any leftover tension that you had been holding in your chest.

"Don't think this means I like you." You finally said, wanting to distract yourself from thinking about your sister and spiraling again. A reprieve from the situation was necessary, at least for a little while.

Ao'nung chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Of course not." He said. "I would never be so bold."

"How come you're always so warm?" You questioned, enjoying as the heat of his touch bled into your skin.

"It's obviously because of my ridiculous good looks." You could hear the smirk in his words, and you took that as your signal to finally pull away from him, immediately regretting the loss of contact.

"What does that have to do with it?" You raised an eyebrow, skeptical, but Ao'nung just shrugged.

"Nothing. But you just admitted that I'm good looking." His smile was infuriatingly wide. You scoffed.

"I most definitely did not, skxawng. You're delusional."

"Mm, I don't think so." He said, shifting to sit down in the sand, facing the water. You followed, sitting close enough that your leg was pressed against his. Neither of you seemed to care to move away to a more appropriate distance. "C'mon, just admit that you think I'm handsome!" He nudged you with his shoulder, earning a glare from you.

"Not gonna happen, fish lips."

He gasped dramatically, throwing a hand to his chest. "I'm wounded!"

"Aw, poor baby." You mocked, jutting out your bottom lip into a pout.

"Well now you're just being rude." He deadpanned. You laughed.

"You really want me to give you a compliment?" You finally asked, and he perked up, eyes shining as he nodded.

"Alright," You sighed. "Your face is actually kind of handsome," Ao'nung opened his mouth to agree. "When your stupidity isn't screwing it up." You couldn't help but immediately burst out laughing, especially as the conceited smugness on his face twisted into a scowl.

"You're the meanest woman I've ever met." He grumbled, shaking his head.

"That's why you like me." You grinned.

"It's definitely not."

"Oh, but you admit that you do like me?"

"That's not what I said."

"Sounds like it."

"Sounds like you need to shut up."

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im-outofideas · 11 months

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it’s not so bad here

fandom: criminal minds

w/c: 2155

pairing: platonic BAU (mostly prentiss and morgan), spencer reid

summary: perspective of spencer: on the jet ride home after a long case. The team is so tired they get a lil silly. fluff + minimum angst I mean it is spencer’s brain.

a/n: this is quite literally my first time for everything, my first time using tumblr and my first ever fanfiction. i had a lot of fun so perhaps expect more maybe?? I want to thank the amazing @nhasablogg for being the biggest inspiration and just so cool honestly. they helped a lot with this work and have just been the kindest person ever!!! anyway pls read the following with all this☝️in mind.

~~~~~~

Spencer never really got used to flying. The team was currently thirty-six-thousand-eight-hundred-sixty-four feet above what Spencer assumed (or more accurately, calculated) would be Tennessee based on flight patterns from Dallas to Quantico and the amount of time they’ve been in air for. Which was roughly three hours, forty-five minutes, six seconds. Seven. Eight. They had about three more hours to go.

The pressure was building in Spencer’s ears and he grimaced, swallowing hard in an attempt to pop them. He always felt a pang of anxiety whenever any pain came to his head, as his memory would replay his mother’s cries for relief during bad episodes.

There was one night when Spencer was eleven, experiencing his first true migraine after finishing his college applications. It was one of the few times Spencer remembered his mother taking care of him instead of the other way around, she was almost completely lucid. His fear was much stronger then, and while he was a boy-genius, his brain was still biologically too immature to handle it.

“I’m dying, mom.” The corners of his eyes wet with tears. His mother smiled at him. It wasn’t often that Spencer behaved his age like this.

“No baby, your head is just too full, and your skull is too small to contain it. The pain is just your head expanding, working to grow and stay ahead of your thoughts.”

“Actually, your brain can’t be too big for your skull. There’s just a blood vessel swelling, and that’s putting pressure on the surrounding nerves which is making the muscles around my skull tighten and causing…” he groaned in frustrated pain. His mother stroked his hair soothingly.

“Would you listen to your mother for once, Spencer? Just go to sleep, you can’t feel the world in your sleep, you know. Go somewhere other than this reality, where your head isn’t constantly working. Relieve some of that pressure... It’s too stressful here, isn’t it?” A far too familiar distant look crossed her eyes for a moment. He rushed to retrieve her.

“Mom.. would you stay with me tonight?”

She returned her son’s gaze. “Of course, I’m not going anywhere.”

His pain seeped out with every stroke, as if his mother’s fingers were magically sucking it out from his skin. As he fell asleep, he found that she was right. He didn’t feel anything. It was like traveling through time.

—————

The case in Texas was particularly rough. Over the past five days, the team got maybe a total of eight hours of rest each. And as far as successes go, they’ve gotten better wins. As a headache creeped up on Spencer, he kicked off his shoes and curled up on the jet couch for a nap. He fell asleep pretty quickly, ready to skip through the headache until he was in Virginia again.

But a funny sensation on his right foot caused his leg to jerk in. I thought I couldn’t feel the world in my sleep. He stirred to see Prentiss standing at the end of the couch.

“I like your socks, Reid.” She said, before wiggling her fingers over his left pink-and-purple striped sock.

“Hey!” He pulled his other leg in and smushed it against the cushion to smother the feeling. He checked his watch, the jet couldn’t be landing already? “What’d you wake me up for?”

“I couldn’t help myself. Purple’s my favorite color.” She grinned at his reaction, before it faded into a frown. “Hang on, now that you’re up though, how come you always get the full couch to sleep on?” Morgan leaned over from his seat, invested in the conversation.

“Thank you. I’ve been meaning to say something about that bull.” He craned his neck, exaggerating the pain of sleeping upright.

“Reid is the youngest,” Hotch said from out of nowhere, neither against him nor in his defense. Spencer hadn’t even noticed him watching. Had they all been watching him sleep? Rossi continued for Hotch, “I suppose he assumed he got first rights to the couch for being born last. And you all let him.”

Hotch went back to the paperwork in his lap, diligent even while running on no sleep. “No, what about Ashley Seaver? She was younger than Reid,” he said. Definitely against him.

“And he still took the couch. Like a gentleman,” said Rossi.

Suddenly, Spencer felt very ganged up on.

“Is that right?” Morgan squinted at Spencer as if he stole something precious from him.

“I don’t think that’s fair,” Prentiss said. “We can’t let him get away with this anymore.”

At first, he was confused by the rare playfulness of his coworkers, especially from Hotch adding to the banter after the crazy, long week. Then he realized; everyone was sleep deprived and filled with a goofy, delirious energy. And while they weren’t able to catch the unsub, they were able to return a young girl back to her family - traumatized, but albeit unharmed - something they saw far too little of. The feeling left everyone more fuzzy than anything, it outweighed the disappointment of losing the unsub. Reuniting a family always strengthened his own, Spencer thought. Perhaps that fuzziness and fatigue was expunging all the professionalism they maintained while the case was ongoing.

And now Spencer - who was just sleeping soundly on the couch that everyone was hungry for - was beginning to feel that fuzziness himself. He faced his back towards his team as he pulled his cover up to his chin and closed his eyes.

“If you wanted it, you should’ve gotten to it first.”

At that, he heard Morgan rise and make his way toward the couch. The blanket was ripped off him dramatically. He kept his eyes closed and opened his mouth to snore lightly. His snore lasted half a second before the sound was abruptly cut off, immediately snapping his mouth shut in a toothy grimace and slamming his elbow down to his side.

“Get your ass up, Reid,”

“No.” He buried his face into the back of the couch, trying to hide his smile as if the way his elbow followed each of Morgan’s delivered pokes didn’t give him away. Reid stiffened a bit more, he focused on schooling his reactions and moving less. If he started laughing, there was no way they would stop, probably even after he gave up what they wanted.

“C‘mon, it’s time to wake up.” His resolve began to crumble when Morgan tasered both sides of his ribs. “Share with the rest of us.”

“Ahhh-ha! Stop!” He huffed out a laugh before holding his breath to stop himself. His face quickly flushed as he wiggled on the couch.

“You know, everyone else sits during the whole flight. As a courtesy to the rest of the team. Except for you-” He accentuated by digging into his ribs again, causing another yelp and laugh to slip. “-who’s just sleeping here like a baby. What’s up with that?”

“Derek-“

“Hmm?”

He couldn’t speak.

“Aww, what’s the matter, Reid? You’re not ticklish, are you?” Prentiss cooed as if nobody could tell he would be just by looking at him.

That’s all it took to crack him. Once the hysterical laughter began he couldn’t stop it. Like a defense mechanism, his brain started working in overdrive to apply logic to best overcome this assault. It took no time to figure out he could never physically stop Morgan; in terms of strength he was far outmatched.

Well, tickling is essentially the body’s response to unpredictable stimuli, so theoretically he could dull the sensations by predicting the attacks. He could trick his brain into believing he was tickling himself. He applied it in a fraction of a second.

All he did was swat at Morgan’s hands in an awkwardly gentle manner, unable to take hold of them. It really did absolutely nothing. Spencer wondered if he were one of the few who could tickle himself.

Before he could think of another solution, Prentiss grabbed one of his arms and hoisted it up above his head.

“No no no, wait wait doN’T-“

Being able to predict was proven a completely worthless tactic. Morgan tickled under his arm and he screamed. His ears finally popped and he could hear the sounds of his own bright laughter at its true pitch. His defense mechanism was shot, as if Morgan’s fingers were sucking out any ability to form a useful thought.

“Oh my god, how’d an eagle get so high up here?” Prentiss teased before breaking down herself.

Spencer wailed and curled his legs in protectively. When that did nothing, he kicked and pulled down at his arm. When that did nothing, he fell back in a whiny giggle in an attempt to garner their sympathy. That did nothing but encourage them.

“Hotch!”

Hotch finished his note, glanced very briefly at his team before returning to his work with the slightest of smiles. Spencer felt betrayed. Supervisory special agent my AAHHAA-

“Oh oh, what’s going on? It sounds like fun, let me see,” JJ turned the laptop over to show Garcia what was happening: Spencer flopping red in the face with Morgan practically sitting on him, Prentiss crouching - legs wobbly from her own laughter - behind Spencer’s head, still holding onto his arm.

“Oh geez, Spencer. How did I not know you were ticklish! Because of course you are. What did he do to deserve this? Did he cheat at Go Fish again?”

Upon seeing Garcia’s grin and his own disheveled form mirrored back at him, Spencer felt embarrassed. If anyone was going to make this a recurring experience, it would be her. He wasn’t totally against the idea, which made him blush furiously harder.

“Okay, okayokay! Y-you can have the couch. I don’t want it. I don’t want it!” Prentiss let go and Spencer squirmed out of Morgan’s grasp, falling to the floor of the jet. He stayed there catching his breath in high-pitched giggles, bewildered by what just happened. He wiped his eyes and looked up at Hotch and Rossi, who stared down at him with immense amusement.

“Thanks for the help guys,” he exhaled, exhausted. They both shook their heads with fond smiles.

“I trusted my agents could handle an internal conflict on their own,” Hotch said.

“You mean manhandle..”

He looked to Morgan, who was settling comfortably on the couch with Reid’s blanket, Prentiss cuddling next to him. He rubbed his sides and looked down at the ground, defeated.

“There’s plenty of room for all of us, big guy,” Prentiss offered her hand, inviting him to the couch. Spencer took it with a smile and sat down awkwardly with his hands resting on his thighs. She draped the blanket over the three of them.

“I’m sorry for being a couch hog.”

“I’m sure you are,” Prentiss snickered.

“It’s alright, Reid, you seem like you always need the sleep. We were just having fun. Did we go too far?” Morgan asked sincerely, arm around Emily and hand on Reid’s shoulder.

“Nah.. I-I had fun too. I mean, I haven’t laughed that hard in a while. I don’t think you guys have either actually.”

“Yeah, well, you did look really funny.” Prentiss said.

Spencer nudged her with a smile, earning him a poke which he quickly followed with a soft noooo don’t.

Morgan scratched the side of his head, mostly to teasingly get his attention. But it felt nice. “Start preparing for a lot more of that.”

“Hmm.. my mom used to do this for me.”

“Tickle you?”

“Uh, no. Stroke my hair. Whenever I got a bad headache, she would tell me to sleep, and then she would pet me until I did.”

“Do you have a headache now?”

“Earlier, a little.”

Without saying any more, Morgan patted down his (now) short hair before stroking up and down soothingly.

“Like that?”

Spencer slumped over and began fake-snoring. Morgan withdrew his hand and sat up a little straighter, which immediately woke him back up “I’m kidding I’m kidding I’m kidding please just- keep doing what you were doing.” They returned to their original positions after Morgan shot him a warning look.

Prentiss rested her head on his shoulder. He leaned his own head back against the couch and allowed himself to relax. The reality of Emily being there with all of them suddenly hit him. Countless nights he begged for her death to be reversed, to be a hoax. To be replaced even. Back then he wished to go to another reality, somewhere without the pressure and the stress, somewhere he couldn’t feel the world. But now, how lucky was he for her to be returned, for her to be truly safe and sound and laughing with them again? He would rather be nowhere else.

He checked his watch, there was two hours left of the flight. The three of them fell asleep very quickly, but rather than try to skip through time, Spencer savored the moment.

#tickle fluff #tickle fic #ticklish Spencer Reid #criminal minds #first fanfic #be gentle #am i tagging this right #tickling #spencer reid #emily prentiss #derek morgan #ticklish!reid

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moonwaterart · 1 year

Text

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I may as well post the other very short ficlets I've done so far, so if you stumble across these, I do hope you enjoy them. Here's one for Heket

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The One Who Signs

Another punch was thrown at the wall of the crumbling temple in the center of Anura. Frustration and anger boiled through Heket’s veins as news of Gusion’s fall and recruitment to The Red Crown came to her. During these times, her followers would stay out of her way as it was more or less a one way ticket to getting hurt or sacrificed in the name of The Old Faith, yet one follower watched as she tried to scream and cry as she let out her frustrations on something that would inevitably have to be cleaned up and replaced once more.

With a sigh, they walked closer once she eventually crumbled to her knees, worn out by all the activities within the last hour and the damage she had caused. Crouching to be in her line of sight, they pulled their hood back and offered her a smile, yet worn smile.

“I know this is hard to hear, Great Leader… but may I offer you my ears to listen to your woes?” They ask. When trying to reply, Heket seemed to cough and spit up the blackened ichor that was once blood. Her follower watched for a moment before offering her a rag they kept to clean up. “Ah… um, perhaps I can be of some assistance with your words? It’s not much, but my family developed a system for us to commune with one another without words. I could teach you if you would like.”

If looks could kill, the glare they received would have done them in. “It was just as a way for those in my family born without the ability to speak or listen to communicate, nothing more.”

“Then teach me…” Haggard and hushed words commanded.

“As you wish, Great Leader.”

“And this means ‘leave me alone’.’ Heket remembered that lesson vividly. In fact, going through each sign with her follower made Heket more content with learning. They were simple, but effective and this new phrase was one she would use more often than not over the course of the next few days. Her frustrations turned to rapid signing and only talking when she needed to with her siblings. Though, when she did talk, she would subconsciously talk with her hands as well. It didn’t take long until Kallamar asked what she was doing.

“One of my followers showed me how to… talk when my voice is spent. I guess I’ve been practicing without really realizing.”

“W-wow… that’s quite a gift for your follower to show you.” He commented. “Must… must be nice.”

“It is. I’m thankful to have them teaching me.”

“Perhaps… I could learn as well? It’s hard for me to hear-”

“Only if they wish to teach you, Kallamar. I have no time to do such things. Not when I have a Lamb to prepare to defeat.” With a turn of her heel, she melted into the portal that opened below her only to emerge within the haven that protected her followers. Eligos had dissented and deserted her flock and she needed to train her final High Priestess in order to take on that damned lamb. A few followers greeted her, but more or less avoided her, until she got to her most loyal follower who finished their conversation with another as she stopped by them. With a wave, they turned to leave only to stop as she was beside them.

“Oh! Leader! Good afternoon, I’m glad you're back. Was your journey a success?” They asked, signing with their hands as they spoke. Heket gave them a small smile.

‘Yes. The other bishops and I had our talk. It was… interesting. Where’s Zepar?’

“Oh! They should be back from their mission soon. I think Palilth asked for them to gather some mushrooms for tonight’s soup. Will you be joining us tonight, Great Leader?”

‘Perhaps I should. Would you be willing to teach what you have taught to my brother?’

Their follower tilted their head slightly. “One of the other bishops?”

‘Correct. He would like to learn as he is hard of hearing. He’s quite a child when it comes to things he wants to learn and I know he will not shut up about it until there is a yes, I will not make you though.’

Their follower turned their head downward as if in thought before nodding. “Well… if that would make him happy, and by extension make you happy, I’d be more than willing to teach him as I have you.”

‘Then I will tell him. Your lessons will happen before sundown and in a place of my choosing so I may watch you two.’

“I-it’s okay Great Leader, you don’t have to sit in as it’ll be stuff you have learned already-“

“I wouldn’t want my brother trying to sway my most loyal and loving follower into joining his sect, would I?” Her voice was still low and throaty, but her follower’s only reaction was to become flustered. If they were her most loyal follower… then they wouldn’t want to disappoint her, would they?

#baps writes sometimes #cotl heket #bishop heket #cotl follower #cotl x reader #cotl kallamar #cult of the lamb heket #cult of the lamb x reader #cult of the lamb

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wiypt-writes · 2 years

Text

Brothers In Arms

Part 3: Tears On My Pillow

Summary: You head to a hotel to meet Steve, but the question is, can you go through with it?

Warnings: Bad language words. Smut. Non-Con…(NSFW 18+) Contains Dark themes which may or may not be triggers.

Pairing: MOB DARK Ransom Drysdale x Reader/ MOB DARK Steve Rogers x Reader

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: Its going dark folks, you have been warmed...

W/C: 4.7k

Brothers In Arms Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Part 2: Can’t Get You Outta My Head

“I’ll be back tomorrow lunchtime,” Ransom smoothed down his tan coloured camel coat. “Where did you say you’re going tonight?”

"I have a dinner meeting."

“Aah, yes. College friends.” Ransom wrinkled his nose, “are you staying at the hotel or coming home?”

"Uh, probably there. We'll see how the night goes." You were doing your best to lie.

“Okay, well keep me posted, please. And ensure Natasha knows where you’re going.”

“I don’t need babysitting,” you rolled your eyes.

"It's not babysitting, it's protection, and it's not up for discussion."

“Fine,” you groaned.

Ransom leaned in for a soft kiss, his thumb to your chin, "I love you, Princess. I promise I'll make it up to you when I get back."

And that was all he said, he turned on his heel and headed down the steps towards his car.

You headed back up the steps into your mansion and turned to see him driving off, Carter in the passenger seat. Clearly, he was in the mood to drive today, but that was Ransom all over; what he wanted, when he wanted.

With a long sigh, you set about your day, finishing some things for work, looking over a contract or two that had been left for you and by three you were through. You down the hall to the large den, the dark wood panelling mirroring your mood as you poured yourself a large scotch.

You had to be very careful how you played the night. If Nat was your shadow, you had to either shake her or let her in on what was going on. Both proved problematic. She was loyal. Very loyal. No doubt she'd report back to Ransom what had transpired and that outcome you feared. You just needed to okay this ridiculous and dangerous game enough to spin Steve deeper until he got caught. He was bound to fuck it up, but when was the question on the table. He was as good as his brother. Nastier if anything, more vile and ruthless.

You took a deep breath, and headed through the house, finding Natasha in the study as she was reading through some paperwork.

“Natasha? You have a moment?”

"Of course," she looked up and smiled. Her red hair was pulled back off her face, eyes bright as she awaited your conversation.

“So, erm, has Ransom told you that I’m heading for dinner tonight?”

"Yeah, I'm to follow and give you the space you need with your friends but to remain vigilant." Natasha set the papers down on the table in front of her.

“Okay, well, the thing is, Ellie has had an emotional crisis so I’m thinking of changing it up and booking a suite,” you lied as the idea formed in your head, “and some in room pampering, room service…so I think I’m going to stay after all, what do you need me to do?”

"Uh, okay, well, that changes things entirely. I can stand outside or wait in the car. I have to be on premises, Y/N, you know the rules."

“I know, that’s why I’m asking. I’ll phone Ransom in a moment but if you wanna sweep the room and stuff before we check in you can, just can I ask you to do it before my fiends arrive? They don’t really know the extent of what Ran does, and I don’t want them to.”

"I think I can manage that." Nat nodded.

“I’ll get you a room as well, at least you’ll have somewhere to stay and be comfortable. You could even join us if you like?”

The last question was a gamble, and you were praying Natasha was going to remain as professional as she always did.

"If you don't want your friends to know what the boss does then it's probably not the best idea this time. We're friends, Y/N but I have a job to do and I have to draw the line."

“No, of course. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

"No offense taken," she held up a hand with a wink. "Rain check on the pampering?"

“That’s fine. I’ll go make the arrangements and then I’ll let you know what time we should leave. It’s a good hour into Manhattan so I suspect it will be about four? I’m packed anyway so…”

"Alright." She nodded with a look of dismissal.

Problem one dealt with, you now had two left.

You nodded and headed out, calling Ransom as you did. When he didn't answer, you left him a message, detailing your new plans and assuring him that Nat would still be around. There would be no doubt he was fine with the plan and so there was your second "problem" dealt with.

Now for the third.

You scrolled through your phone, looking for the number you had saved under Ellie’s name as her works number and dialled.

Unlike Ransom, this bastard answered.

"Well, hello Doll," he annoyingly cooed

“I’m not your Doll.” You spat, and Steve chuckled.

With a tisk of his tongue he spoke, "now is that any way to speak to your date?"

“Shut up and listen to me.” You snarled, “we have a problem.”

"Let me guess, that bulldog dyke of my brother's is your watch hound for the night?"

“Don’t speak about her like that.”

"He's so fucking predictable. Knows I'm out and sends a babysitter in. Fucking idiot." He chuckled darkly. "I trust you took care of it?"

“Yes. I’m booking a suite under my name, and he thinks I’m with my friends. So you and whoever is no doubt with you need to stay away until I tell you it’s clear.”

"Isn't this exciting?" He sarcastically and sadistically purred. "Secret meetings and room sweeps, using back doors and no doubt fire escapes all for a night with me?"

“It’s blackmail, pure and simple.” You replied, your voice shaking.

"We'll see."

“Fuck you.”

You hung up on his as he manically chuckled with the last words you heard being 'count on it'.

You gave yourself five minutes to calm down, with another large scotch before you headed to your room to check your case. You called the hotel, booked the rooms and then dialled Ellie, the last person you needed to speak to, and put the phone on speaker as you tossed the reaming things you needed into your bag.

"What's going on?" She could hear the distance in your voice and not because you were on speaker.

“I need a huge, huge favour, El.”

"Okay," she waited for you to explain.

“Listen, erm, I need to just get away for a night. Things with Ransom’s family are bat shit and it’s fucking my head. He’s out of town on business and I’ve booked into The Plaza for a night so I can use and abuse the spa but I’ve told him I’m with you…”

"But you're not with me, are you? Oh Jesus, Y/N, are you okay?"

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine and it’s not what you think,” you lied, “I’m not with anyone else I just want a night away from the madness.”

"Okay, I'll cover for you," she sighed. "But, you're okay? Like he's not, he hasn't hurt you has he?"

Ellie didn't know Ransom's profession, rather just that he was in business, but there were rumors and rumblings of a heavy hand in his dealings, one you'd never been on the receiving end of.

“God, no.” You assured her, “he’s never laid a hand on me, never would.”

"Alright, good."

“I’m sorry to ask you, and it’s unlikely anyone will even check.”

She gave a sigh mixed with a chuckle, "it's okay. I've got you. Just... enjoy the break, okay?"

"Thanks, I owe you big time.”

"It's all good," Ellie protested. "Talk soon, let's do brunch next week."

“Yeah, absolutely.” You assured her, abs with a quick goodbye you cut the call.

No sooner had it finished, Ransom’s number flashed up.

"Hi."

“I got your message,” he drawled, “what’s happened now? That dickhead boyfriend dumped her again?”

“I have no idea.” You sighed, “but I have no doubt I’ll find out. I take it you’re okay with the revised plan? Nat was fine, I’ve got her a room sorted and she’ll sweep the place before hand.”

"Of course, Princess," he spoke quietly, "I'll send up a couple of bottles of fizz for you all."

“It’s just the two of us,” you replied, “everyone else kinda cried off when they found out she’s having one of her moments.”

“Okay, I’ll still have the fizz sent up. Charge it all to your Amex, whatever you want.”

His gesture ate at your heart, the bile in your stomach turning your insides ill. "Okay, thank you."

“I’m sorry, baby, I need to go. I’ll call later.”

“It’s okay, erm, I’ll probably be having my ear bent by Ellie. I’ll message you though?”

“Okay, have a good evening. I love you.”

"I love you too," you said with a whisper and such promise. You hoped he knew just how much. And just how much you were trying to spare him with tonight.

**********

“Okay, it’s clear.” Natasha walked over to where you had been sat at the bar and handed you the key to your suite. “If you need anything, call me.”

"Will do, thanks Nat."

“Have a good evening,” she nodded as you left her.

You took the elevator up and headed to the relevant floor. Your bag was already waiting for you, as was a bottle of champagne. You wasted no time in snatching up one of the bottles of premium and obscenely priced bottles of vodka that lay on the room bar.

You flopped onto the bed, the sick feeling in your stomach overwhelming you. What the hell were you doing? How had you gotten here?

You took a drink of the spirit directly from the bottle and winced as it burned on the way down. The issue was, now you started to think about it, you didn’t know if you could go through with this. The first time Steve had violated you, you’d had no choice. You hadn’t known. He’d tricked you, completely. But now…now you did. Whilst not entirely willing, you had arranged all of this. The web of lies you had weaved just to get into the hotel so the bastard could have his way with you… it was gross, disgusting, and it broke you.

But that was nothing compared to what it would do to Ransom.

With a choked sob you dropped the bottle of vodka on the bedside table and shook your head. You'd made up your mind, you weren't staying. But you had to act fast as your guest was due to show up fairly quickly and you needed to get out before that.

You hadn't even opened your bag, so you quickly grabbed it by the handle, grabbed your personal bag and threw open the door only to find Nat ready to knock.

"We have to go. I was scanning the floor and Barton was down the hall. That only means one thing, Steve is here and you're his first target."

“Oh, erm, I was gonna leave anyway, I was just about to call. Ellie isn’t coming.”

"Yeah, explain on the way, we gotta go." Natasha grabbed your case and hurried you to the side elevator for staff. It was The Plaza after all.

You followed behind, not saying anything and soon you found yourself in the underground loading bay. Natasha led you through another door which opened into the parking lot and ushered you towards the black SUV, all the time her hand on the gun at her hip.

Once within the safety of the SUV, your driver was on his way out and Nat was on her phone.

“Okay, boss.” She nodded after a little while and handed you the phone. “He wants to talk to you.”

With a shaky hand, you reached for Nat's phone, "R... Ransom?"

"Sweetheart, I’m coming home.”

"No, you don't... I'm fine, it's fine. There was nothing.... I didn't even know until I was leaving."

“Not up for discussion. If he was there, it means he knew you were, which means he’s following you.”

Your stomach lurched and you swallowed, "okay."

“Have you noticed anyone, anything at all?”

"No. Nothing," you whispered. "Swear it."

“Stick with Natasha, do what she says and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

"Okay." You handed the phone back to Natasha and watched as you were leaving The Plaza and Manhattan behind.

You leaned back in your seat, and reached for your phone. You had eight missed calls and a text. With a shaky hand, you opened the message.

'Oh, Doll, big mistake.'

You sniffed, tossed the phone back in your purse and closed your eyes trying to stem the headache brewing behind them.

*****

“Any idea on how he knew where she was?” Carter asked as he and Ransom headed towards the car which was waiting to take them back to the private air field outside Washington.

“No. But I want you on it. He’s either watching her or…or we have a rat.”

“I think it might be the former.” Stark spoke loudly, making Ransom pause.

“What?”

“I think he’s watching her.”

In a flash, Ransom had grabbed Tony by the lapels of his suit and slammed him up against the car. “What the fuck do you know, Stark?”

"I have a theory and I think I know enough to give you a little looksie." Stark pressed down on his attacker's arms. "I need my phone to share and for that you're going to have to let me go."

With a final glare, Ransom let go and stepped back, his lips curled up in a snarl. Tony pulled his phone from his pocket.

“Halloween ball. You were out of town, right?” He spoke as he tapped the screen, before swiping is fingers across as he scrolled through his phone.

“You know I was.”

Tony nodded, tapped on the screen and handed it over.

Ransom frowned as he watched the footage, and felt a cold feeling of dread, laced with a white-hot lance of anger as he saw his brother on the screen. He was wearing a mask, but he’d know that face anywhere.

He saw it in the mirror every day.

“He was there?”

"Well, if it wasn't you...."

“Fuck…” he felt the nerve in his jaw tick. “So, he could have been following her…”

As he spoke, he tailed off as he remembered you coming home that night. You’d been furious, accusing him of leaving you there, even slapping him for it…

Fuck, you’d seen him…

“Drysdale, what is it?” Tony frowned.

Ignoring Tony, he looked to Carter, "I want the car there and ready the minute we land. Have Natasha make sure Y/N goes nowhere."

With a sinful stride he took to the private plane's stairs and said nothing more.

He brooded all the flight home. Why hadn’t you mentioned you’d seen his brother? Had he put the frighteners on you, because you sure as hell hadn’t been yourself tor the past fortnight. A lot was adding up but there were pieces missing and for those he needed answers.

Even upon landing, he said nothing. A pure look of intensity and purpose stalked his chiselled features as he climbed into the awaiting car with his camel coat and now leather gloves. Carter made mention of speaking and all Ransom did was peer from the corner of his eyes as he turned his head to glare. He was not in any mood for conversation.

"Natasha just checked in, Y/N hasn't left the house since her return from the city. She's kept to herself and stayed in your room."

With not even a nod of acknowledgment, Ransom turned back to stare ahead as the miles back to the estate grew smaller.

It felt like an age till they were pulling through the large wrought iron gates. As the black Mercedes pulled to a stop, Ransom flung open the door and stalked inside.

Taking the spiral stairs two at a time, he found you in the master suite, dressed down and staring out the floor to ceiling windows across the property. You turned to look at him as he moved toward you. And he saw your face pale as you clocked the look on his face.

“R-Ransom?”

“Halloween, the Ball…you saw my asshole brother, didn’t you?”

He watched as your face fell and you gave a small nod. “Yes”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

"I couldn't."

“Did he threaten you? Hurt you?”

Your lip quivered as you swallowed hard. What the hell were you going to say? Do? Steve was no doubt going to somehow, someway expose himself and what happened because you left him behind tonight. That much you already knew.

"Answer me, Y/N."

"Yes."

“Fuck!” Ransoms hand slammed the wall just to the left of your head, and you jumped a little, the tears now pouring from your face. “Why the hell didn’t you say anything?”

As you struggled for words, Ransom let out a growl as his phone rang.

“Don’t answer…” you begged, grabbing his arm but he shook you off.

“I have people looking for him, I have to.” He snapped back, reaching for the phone. His eyes still trained on you, the muscle memory made his hand swipe to answer.

“What?”

“Tut tut, Ranny, that anyway to speak to your twin brother?”

Ransom's eyes grew cold in his stare and your blood ran through your veins like ice. You knew it was Steve.

"I'm gonna kill you," Ransom threatened.

“I’m sure you’ll try,” Steve lazily drawled back, “didn’t quite manage it last time though, did you?”

“I told you before,” Ransom snapped back, “Rumlow wasn’t hired by me, I have no idea who it was. Trust me, I wouldn’t have sent someone, I’d have done it myself. Just like I'm going to this time.”

Steve sighed in amusement, "oh brother, such threats. You see, I'm not the one you have to worry about." He tisked. "If I were you, I'd be more concerned about that little bird in your nest, right now."

“If you’ve laid a finger on her…”

"Fingers, tongue.... my cock," his chuckle was sinister, "it's all the same isn't it?"

Steve cut the call and Ransom choked. In his hand pinged a message from the same number that just rang.

“Ransom, please…” you sobbed as he opened the message and then you closed your eyes as you heard the sounds of your moaning, coupled with Steve’s lewd dirty talk and grunts.

You dropped to your knees as the realization hit that everything you'd tried to hide to spare him had now come to light. There was a loud yell, then the sound of something breaking as Ransom hurled his phone against the wall.

He turned to go but you were quickly chasing after him.

"Please, please, listen to me," you sobbed uncontrollably.

Quickly he spun and with a hand to your throat he backed you into the wall nearby, "you lied to me," he snarled through gritted teeth.

There was no anger in his eyes, not the type you'd seen many times before as he delt with problematic issues. No, what you saw as he squeezed a little was hurt, trauma, pain, emotional distrust. Welling blues that burned into your memory forever.

“I thought…” you swallowed, the lump in your throat hard against his fingers as he squeezed a little more, “I thought it was you, he said it was. He had a mask on, same suit you have… I didn’t…”

"You let him touch you," Ransom breathed harshly. "Fuck you."

"Please, baby...." you struggled.

A squeezed harder. "Don't you dare."

“I thought it was you!” You repeated yourself, “he set this up… he’s been blackmailing me. Telling me if I didn’t meet him again he’d tell you and-“

“You fucking whore! That’s why he was at the Plaza!” Ransoms eyes widened as a look of disgust and hurt etched itself across his face. “You were meeting him!”

You nodded as much as you could given his hold on you, as a tear left his eye and trickled down his cheek, dropping from his chiselled jawline into his forearm.

"I'm sorry," you choked.

“Yeah, well, so am I.” He sniffed, “sorry I ever met you. You know, my parents warned me about you. Said you’d be nothing but a gold-digging slut. Turns out Richard can be right once in a blue moon.”

"No."

“And the best you can come up with is your thought he was me? Jesus, I know you can be dumb at times but that…”

"I...he... I would never," you cried.

"After all this time, you don't know the difference between me and my fucking brother?" He yelled in your face with such anger and pain.

“I was drunk, I…” you stuttered, “I’m so sorry, I love you.”

"Shut up," he growled. "Just shut up."

"Please forgive me. Please, baby, I...."

He squeezed hard this time and you felt the air constrict in your chest. "I said shut the fuck up, you little whore. You fucking dumb vicious little bitch. I'm gonna show you the difference between my cock and Steve's, yeah that's what I'm gonna do."

“No, Ransom, please…”

With relief he let go of your throat but in the same quick motion, he spun you around with force into the wall.

"You let him take you like this? Watched as he fucked you," Ransom pressed into from behind, his hand in your hair as he wrenched your neck. "You know I like watching you cum, watching your face as a I fuck you." He gripped your hair harder and pulled, "that was your first mistake."

You cried out as his hand tightened, pulling your hair so yard it yanked your head back onto his shoulder.

"You liked it when he did that huh, you like it when I do it?" He bit at your throat.

“No, I…” your chest heaved, “Ransom… don’t do this…”

"You're gonna know the difference, Princess." He uprighted you but didn't relent on your hair as he dragged you to your shared bed. With force he tossed you into the mattress and stripped of his coat. Your body was pinned between his legs as he locked you against the down duvet.

You tried to speak, to beg, plead your case again but the words stuck in your throat as he tore the black tights from your body, rucking up your sweater dress.

The buckle of his undone belt clanged as he messed with the zip and button of his slacks. Before his cock sprang from his boxers, Ransom flipped you aggressively to your belly and ripped your tights off, your thin panties going with them. There was a pause and you thought he'd given up, but his body still held you against escaping. His hands gripped your waist brusingly and pulled you over the edge of the bed, the balls of your feet hitting the luxurious carpet.

"You'll know the difference," and without warning he buried into you, a groan emitting from his chest. "You're soaked, I knew you liked it rough."

He was taunting you, as you were far from soaked. In fact, the sudden intrusion had burned and it made you scream out in pain.

“Ransom… you’re hurting me!”

"You fucking hurt me!" He growled as he pulled back and thrust with speed right back into you.

You cried out again, as his hand curled round your neck from behind, pressing your cheek into the soft duvet cover.

You sobbed as he railed you with an intensity unrivalled to anything he'd ever given you before. The slapping of skin on skin, punctuated by your noises of distress filled the room along with the odd grunt from Ransom. There was no dirty talk, no encouragement, no telling you what a good girl you were or how good you felt.

"Know the difference yet, you little whore?"

“Ransom…” you managed a whisper, as a tear trickled from your eye, and you repeated the two words you felt you’d said a million times over. “I’m sorry.”

"You're gonna be." He grunted as he pulled out and flipped you over, a mild relief coming to your body as he tore his shirt open, the buttons popping from their stitches. His tattooed skin spoke with each twitch of his built frame.

He grabbed your arms as he kneeled over you, pulling you up so he could rip your dress off over your head. His eyes were red and glassy, their color completely gone. Then your bra was snapped open at the front and you were naked beneath him, your tights mere threads. With one hand around your wrists above your head, the other stroked his shaft and rubbed that velvety head over your irritated folds. He bumped your clit and you shuddered, the sensation spreading through your body and be curled his lip up in a sneer.

“Like that, huh?” His face buried into your cleavage before he moved to a nipple, roughty grazing his teeth around it, causing you to shudder again.

"Ransom…please,” you sobbed. For a moment, something on his face softened, his nostrils flared as he took a shaky breath.

“Oh, Princess, I’d have burnt the world down for you.”

Your face scrunched up and you choked back, "I know. I love you.”

He scrunched his eyes shut, shaking his head. “Why did you have to ruin everything?”

"Steve did."

And just like that, the mere mention of his brother snapped him out of his moment of softness. His top lip curled, and he thrust back into you, both hands now pinning yours above your head. With devilish speed and pristine accuracy, Ransom pistoned into you, chasing a relentless end.

Despite everything, your body reacted to him, like it always did. You could feel the heat lurking in your belly as his cock stroked that spot inside you over and over.

"Fuck," you gasped as your insides began to tingle.

“Bet he didn’t fuck you like I can, huh?” Ransom looked at your face, “He doesn’t know you like I do, doesn’t know what you like-“ a harsh slam into you made you cry out, “what you want-“ another slam, “what leaves you begging for more.”

You came with need, a cry of his name on your lips as your body curled up to feel him against you more but he pulled away. His grip on your hands tightened as he forced himself away. His fingers released your wrists and crawled into your hands, threading those digits between your fingers and he gripped your hands painfully, as with a stutter and a choked groan he came.

His arms trembled as he kept himself above you, the distance between your bodies felt like miles despite the fact he was burried inside you.

More tears slid from your eyes and then with a sigh and a sniff, Ransom slowly lowered himself down, his face buried into your neck. You felt the wetness of his tears against your skin, and then the fingers of his right hand moved to let your left hand go.

And you gave a sob as you felt the metal of your engagement ring sliding up over your knuckle and off the end of your finger.

"Get out." He spoke with venom in your ear. He leaned back and pulled out of you, not even a slight glance back over his shoulder as he headed for your ensuite.

You lay there, in utter shock, tears pouring down your face as you heard the shower turn on.

It took everything you had, but you managed to push yourself off the bed. You dressed quickly in a pair of jeans and a sweater, stuffed a few additional things into your still packed bag and made your way downstairs.

Carter emerged from the study, and the look on his face told you he had heard at least part of what had gone down. “Miss?” He spoke to you not unkindly and you wiped your eyes and set the keys to your Mercedes SLK down on the side. “You can’t drive like that, I’ll take you.”

“I’m not going to.” You shook your head, “I’m not taking the car, he bought it. I….”

“Come on, l’ll give you a ride. Where…”

“My brother’s.” You sniffed, it was the only place you could think of.

With a nod, Carter picked up your bag and you followed him out to the black BMW SUV.

You settled in the back seat, reached into your purse and with a shaky hand you dialled your brother.

“Hey, Booger.” His soft drawl spoke your nickname and you silently cried at the sound of his voice, “you okay? It’s late.”

“Ari, I… I need you.”

**** Part 4: Put Yourself In My Place

#brothers in arms #mob ransom drysdale #mob ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom drysdale x reader #mob steve rogers #mob steve rogers x reader #dark steve rogers x reader #MOB Ransom Drysdale x you #dark ransom drysdale x you #mob Steve Rogers x you #dark Steve Rogers x you #dark ransom drysdale #dark steve rogers #mob au #Chris Evans character

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mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Myth or Movie

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Unbeknownst to the two of them, Y/N and Spencer's children have worked up a plan to get them to meet... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative/unprotected sex, someone is misgendered (nothing too bad, it’s very brief, and it’s sincerely apologized for by the person who misgenders) Word Count: 4.2k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This is my 2nd entry for Pom’s ( @imagining-in-the-margins ) Enemies To Lover’s Writing Challenge! This one was one of the prompts she provided: You and (Character)'s kids don't get along, so you have to have a talk. Turns out you... really really get along... and I couldn’t wait to tackle it! I believe my exact words were: “I’m gonna Parent Trap these bitches”... So do with that what you will lol

———

"I'm so sorry I'm late!"

Two heads turn to stare at me as I burst through the doors. I'm out of breath from running through the building, something the staff really didn't seem to appreciate, though their shouts and annoyed glances were the last thing on my mind.

As I try to catch my breath, the two heads stand, and suddenly I feel a lot smaller.

One of them I recognize— Principal Anteros. I'd met with her before over some of Sky's academic achievements, all positive things, which is why today's circumstances make being in this office rather uncomfortable.

It's also why I seem to shrink with embarrassment at my tardiness— and appearance. Waitressing has its benefits, but today's whirlwind of phone calls and a mention at meeting another parent are not any of them.

Speaking of, the other person in the room is one I've never seen before. He's taller than both Anteros and I, extremely well dressed, and probably the most intimidatingly beautiful human being I'd ever met. I can barely meet his eyes, and so I try not to think about what he's doing here—to think about having to talk to him.

I shrink even further.

"Ms. Y/L/N," Principal Anteros greets. Thankfully she doesn't sound too upset given the circumstances. "Please, have a seat."

I do, brushing off my uniform as if that will somehow help my appearance. The soft leather of the chairs, however comfortable they might be, fail to bring me any comfort at all.

"As I'm sure you've guessed already, this is Doctor Reid, Vivian's father."

Great, he's a fucking doctor? This already bodes well for me...

Regardless of my reservations, I turn to him and give a faint smile. He waves in turn, and for the time being I'm extremely glad he doesn't insist on shaking my hand.

"It's nice to meet you," he says, surely nothing but a formality.

"You, too," I say quickly, then turn back to Principal Anteros. "Your phone call sounded urgent... Is everything alright?"

As soon as I say it, I feel kind of dumb. Because of course everything isn't alright. My child's principal called a meeting with another parent, and that can never mean anything good, not to mention the fucking intimidation and awkwardness in the room right now. I almost apologize, trying to explain that that wasn't exactly what I meant to get across, but then I would have just been talking for way too long, embarrassing myself further.

Once again, I'm thankful for Anteros's ability to move the conversation along. "I'm not sure, but it doesn't seem so. I only bring this to attention because Sky and Vivian are both stellar students. They've never had any disciplinary issues or difficulties with other students..."

"No one's hurt, right?" Mr. Reid asks. I know he's just concerned for his child, but for some reason it feels like an attack on me, like he assumes my kid had something to do with it.

"No, no one's hurt. Thankfully there weren't any physical altercations. But it seems your girls are quite... loud."

The doctor looks like he wants to say something, but I'm quick to jump in before he can. "Sorry... Sky is non-binary. They use they/them pronouns."

I half expect one or either of them to make a big deal or just roll their eyes at me, as most people seem to do when I correct them on the matter, but Anteros gives a sincere apology and Reid probably couldn't have cared any less.

I still can't tell if I like him or not...

But that doesn't matter right now.

"What do you mean by loud?" I continue.

Anteros sighs. "Well, while there hasn't been any physical violence, your kids seem to have very heated arguments, usually during lunch or in the hallway in passing... We thought maybe we could resolve it here since, like I said, they're both excellent students, but then it started escalating to classroom arguments... It's a lot of screaming..."

I have never known Sky to raise their voice at anyone, not even in a situation where I probably would have. Lord knows I'm thankful they don't have my impatience and tendency to get pissed off easily...

So what happened that was so bad, it made them snap?

"You... You're sure you mean Vivian is acting out like this?" Reid asks slowly, and I can't stop myself from laughing out loud.

"Come on, she's a professional. This has been going on for weeks, in her school, I'm sure she would know if it was your kid having a screaming match with someone else..."

This time Doctor Reid actually looks over at me, an eyebrow raised, and though I very much believe what I've just told him, the way he's looking at me right now drops my heart straight down to my stomach, like he's the principal and I'm the student acting out—No, it's worse than that... I feel like he's a disappointed parent, but not with Vivian, with me.

I avoid his intimidating stare and look down at the ground. "Sorry... I'm just... This isn't like Sky, either, I don't know what to do..."

"Well, usually when we have these sort of disputes, we like to have the students talk it out amongst themselves with a moderator present. But we've tried that, and it seems that they still haven't made any progress. Now, I know your children are good at heart, and it seems like you both are excellent parents— You know your children better than anyone here ever could. So, I'm proposing the two of you take a meeting some time and try to figure out how to settle this."

Seriously? If it hasn't been made clear already, this man is a doctor of some kind, planets away from my league in any capacity, and I can just picture the two of us in a screaming match close to what I imagine our children's looked like...

Maybe we can just e-mail.

"Okay," he agrees evenly, and I'm surprised he seems this calm considering I've just practically yelled at him... "I have free time this afternoon if you want to talk it over."

"I have to get back to work, but I get done at five," I sigh, wanting to get this over with. "Are you free then?"

"Mhm."

"Good," Anteros chirps, standing and leaving Doctor Reid and I to follow suit. "Perhaps over the weekend we can get this settled."

I sure as hell hope so.

———

"Ms. Y/L/N, wait!"

I have no idea what he could possibly want from me now that we've set a time and place to talk tonight, but I'm just praying desperately that he doesn't want to take this time alone in the parking lot to get back at me for accosting him in Anteros's office...

Thankfully, his face when he approaches seems rather kind.

"You can call me Y/N..."

"Right," he says, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets and nodding. "I'm Spencer."

"Spencer... So, um... Did you need something?"

"O—Oh, I just... I know you have to get back to work so I'll make this short, but I wanted to see if you wanted to do, uh... dinner tonight?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, I just figured since we probably didn't expect for our weekend to go this way... We should make it worth it?"

"Are you really trying to turn this into a date?"

"W— No, not really, I just... You know, I thought it might be nice to... make this less like a chore, you know? A—And don't feel like you have to say yes, it was just a thought, I'm sorry if I made this weirder..."

The fact that I still can't figure this man out bothers me, but right now he's blushing, and he looks like he's trying to save himself from embarrassment, and it's so fucking adorable that I don't really care that I was just annoyed.

So I tell him, "Sure. Why not?"

"Really?"

"Yeah... Besides, Lord knows I haven't gone out for dinner in a long time."

The doctor is relieved, a smile creeping up on his lips that suddenly tugs at my insides and makes me wish for a second that it really is a date he's offering... "Okay, good. Do you want to meet at Waterstone, seven o'clock?"

The excitement starts to drain from me as he says it, followed by an incoming wave of embarrassment. "Oh, man, that... That place is kind of expensive, I don't—"

"Oh, it's okay, I'll pay for everything. I'll even wait outside for you so we can go in together if you'd like..."

Why he's being so nice to me I have no idea, but it's making my annoyance melt and my heart start to beat faster, and I really don't know how to feel about that. In fact I'm pretty sure it's weird as fuck given the circumstances.

But all I have to do is make it through this weekend, hopefully all will be back to normal, and I won't ever have to think about it ever again.

"Alright... It's a date."

———

Out of all the scenarios I'd pictured for the end of the night, this definitely had not been one of them.

I finished my shift at the diner, imagining on my drive home the look on his face when I inevitably showed up with something on my face or stained on my dress; Instead I showed up to Waterstone and was greeted with wandering eyes and showered with bashful compliments.

I expected to get into some type of argument about how each of our kids were better than the other or something, but we ended up talking through their traits with compassion, interest, and pride, all while agreeing that we just have to sit with them this weekend and explain that there are easier, better ways to sort out disagreements than screaming at each other in public.

I expected not to have much fun at all, but by the time we gathered the check and headed out the door, Spencer and I were laughing, just a little tipsy on Cabernet, our hands gently brushing and sparks shooting up my arm at the feeling.

I expected to go our separate ways and walk to my car and drive home, but instead he ended up telling me he was taking the Subway home, and I offered to give him a ride to the opposite side of town where I lived (Waterstone was right in the middle).

I expected to walk through the door, stumble straight up to bed, and sleep until Sky inevitably woke me up with them saying I've slept in too late and needed to get ready for work, but instead I ended up following Spencer up to his door to say goodnight.

And now we're at a fork in the road, and I can take one of two paths.

I can say goodnight, watch him walk in, and then go home and forget about this whole thing.

Or I can keep letting him stare at me until I find myself leaning in to kiss him. Whether or not he'll actually reciprocate is another story, but the little bit of wine tingling in the surface of my body and the dark, intense look in his eye gives me more courage than I've had since I met him.

Before I can make a move, Spencer talks, his voice small and inviting. "Do you want to come inside?" The beating of my heart quickens immensely as he takes another step forward and brings his fingers out to graze my chin. "Vivian's with her mom tonight."

Yes. Vivian's mom, who divorced Spencer pretty soon in the marriage after she just decided his job was too much to handle. He'd quit and took a teaching job, but even still, she declined his pleading to stay married and eventually admitted that she just wasn't in love with him anymore. At least she had the decency to let him have joint custody once his schedule cleared up, and it seemed like they were decent co-parents. Maybe even friends.

I think about Sky, how much they wish their dad had stayed, and how much I wish he had too. I was devastated when he left without anything more than a note. For years it took a huge toll on us, and I barely had the headspace to even think about dating anyone since then.

But here I am now, standing with this man who has also lost a spouse, who's somewhat of a single parent, and who seems kind and genuine enough that I don't think I'd have to worry about bringing him into the life of my child.

Though, I don't even know it'll go that far. I'm getting too far ahead of myself, and so to slow down I look at what's right in front of me. Right now.

Spencer looks at me like he wants to devour me. My whole body is tingling from head to toe. I want to kiss him, and I'm pretty damn sure he wants to kiss me back. He just invited me inside, which means that if I accept, we'll most likely end up sleeping with each other.

Again... Definitely not one of the scenarios I'd had in mind when I left the school today. But it's a damn good one, and he's so hot I want to cry.

My flirty switch turns on so fast, it nearly gives me whiplash. "And what are you gonna do if I say yes?"

"Depends... How badly do you want to walk tomorrow?"

My first instinct is to jokingly tell him to put me in a wheelchair, but I settle for kissing him instead, hoping that gives the same sentiment.

The way he melts into my body tells me I've succeeded. My arms fly up to his neck and pull him closer, and he holds me tightly to him, waiting for my lips to part so he can expertly slip his tongue past them.

I whine out and take a step towards the door. Spencer comes with me and fumbles with the keys in his pocket before reluctantly pulling away to get us inside.

Once we take our jackets and shoes off, he clings to me like static, drawn to me like a magnet, and I let him near without a second thought. Our lips find each other perfectly, like they've always meant to fit together. And as pieces of clothing come off on our way through the house and up to his bedroom, our limbs fit together just as well. Nothing is out of place.

Hell, I don't even remember how inferior to him I felt earlier in the day. Our jobs and lifestyles might seem like polar opposites, but for right now, the two of us are on very equal footing, coming together like it's always been meant to be.

I nearly fall apart when his fingers gather wetness from my cunt, just enough to tease me before pulling away and bringing them to his lips. I watch with a whine waiting on the back of my tongue as he slips his fingers past his mouth and sighs.

"More," is all he manages, and I want so badly to tease him—tell him how I know he can be more eloquent than that—but words are all lost on me too, when he drops to his knees and spreads me apart with ease. I have no choice but to reach behind and grip the foot-end of the bed as he works his tongue expertly against me.

Each of my sighs and whines are met with more avidity from him, taking the form of sharp flicks of the tongue over my clit, and once he adds his fingers to the mix, pumping them expertly inside me, I'm a fucking goner.

I come with a silent shout, clenching my thighs around his face and gripping the foot of the bed so tightly it feels like my hands might go numb.

Once my body loosens, Spencer gets up and kisses me, nearly knocking me over. I'm breathless and dizzy as the tang of my arousal coats my tastebuds. His hands are gentle despite the hunger in his lips, and the medley of sensations of all of these things has me weak in the knees.

"Getting harder to stand already, sweetheart?" he laughs, catching me as I fall into him. His hands clutch at my thighs and he carries me to the edge of the bed, crawling over top of me and kissing down my neck. "That's okay... I'll take good care of you."

I still can't manage to speak as he gently pushes in, the slow burn of him splitting me in two rendering me utterly incapable of even thought. I gladly welcome the pressure, especially once he's inside me all the way and lowering his body to mine. Our chests press firmly together as he pulls back and starts a steady pace with his hips. He traps me with his arms, bringing them to either side of my face. And when his fingers brush the hair from my eyes, he stares into them with intensity as he fucks me.

It's slow and hard. It's heart-pounding. It's earth-shattering. It's everything that makes sex worth having. In that moment we're two equals, so wrapped up in the mere feeling of each other that everything else is just background noise. He breathes me in and I do the same, and with each cant forward of his hips, he brings me deeper into this world we've both ultimately created together.

I want more than anything to wrap my legs around him and keep him close to me, but he's fucking me so good that I don't have the willpower. Instead, they lay spread out, lazy and open as his hips move between them. I'm warm all over, tingling everywhere our skin connects. When he kisses me, swallowing my pathetic attempts at whimpering his name, I'm positive that this is what Heaven must feel like.

Whether it's hours or only minutes later, eventually my body tenses, unable to hold back any further, and two particularly deep thrusts from Spencer send me barreling over the edge.

"There it is, sweetheart..." he praises, caressing my face with long, gentle fingers and leaving little kisses wherever they trail. His voice only seems to help me along, each warm syllable soothing the muscles that pulled taut at his mercy. "That's a good girl..."

I feel tired, calmed, and relaxed, when he pulls out only to jerk off over my lower stomach. Through tired eyes, I watch as he lets go and covers me with his release. Hearing him grunt out my name as he does it nearly wakes me up again, and it even finally brings some words out of me.

"God, you're so fucking hot..."

Well... Not exactly elegant, but the feeling gets across.

Spencer laughs and rolls over so that he isn't nearly crushing me anymore. He kisses down my neck, my arm, and he ever-so-slightly swipes the tip of his tongue over the mess he made before kissing my thigh and getting up to leave— presumably to get me something to clean up with.

Sure enough, he returns shortly with a wet washcloth and tenderly cleans me up. I manage to sit, leaning back on my elbows once he's done and smile at him. He's practically kneeling in front of me again, smiling back as his lips press featherlight kisses to the inside of my leg.

"How're you feeling?" he drawls, letting me pull him up to lay down with me.

"Really good. I haven't done that in so long..."

"Me either... I um... I hadn't really thought much about seeing other people once Lena and I got divorced... I guess I just wanted to put all my focus into being the best father I could, you know?"

"Mhm," I answer, turning to face him and interlocking our fingers. "I know exactly what you mean."

We lay like that for a few moments in comfortable silence, hands and limbs tangled while we breathe the same air and revel in the afterglow we've just created.

Suddenly Spencer laughs, and I squeeze his hand. "What is it?"

"I was just thinking... We probably wouldn't have met if not for Anteros calling us in, right?"

"Yeah..." I piece it together. "Guess I never thought of it that way."

"I just think it's funny, because in Greek mythology, Anteros was an Erote, known as an avenger of unrequited love, and he punished those who scoffed at romantic advances made by others... You and I never even thought about dating after our separations, and yet... Here we are now, because of Anteros."

Hearing him educate me on Greek mythology only serves to remind me how different we are. Still, the little story brings a comforting smile to my lips. "Well... Remind me to send her a basket of muffins or something to thank her."

"And tell her what? That you're grateful she got you laid?"

"Yeah. And what about it?"

The two of us dissolve into laughter that eventually fizzles and leaves us silent again. Our fingers are still tangled, and somehow we've snuggled in even closer.

"In any case, I'm glad I got to meet you, Doctor Reid."

"And I, you, Ms. Y/L/N..."

———

In the past two weeks since that first meeting, I hadn't received any more phone calls from Principal Anteros, which bode as a good sign.

Spencer and I decided to see each other as secretly as we could, which meant only giving vague details to our kids as to what we were doing in our spare time— It seemed weird to spring it on them if they didn't get along, so we figured it was best to wait until the situation was handled.

I tried to talk to Sky about their progress with Vivian, but they only insisted that everything was fine and they wouldn't have to worry anymore. And after relaying this information to Spencer, he informed me that Viv had said the same thing to him.

It wasn't until we both realized that they'd said the same things verbatim each time we asked, that something odd was going on.

And that's how we end up right here, Sky and I sitting on a park bench bathed in the golden October sun while I patiently wait for Spencer to 'coincidentally' show up with Vivian.

Thankfully I don't have to wait too long, because almost five minutes after we sit, I hear the familiar sound of my name falling from his lips, and it's hard to contain the cocky, playful smile that appears upon my own.

"Spencer, hey!" I call back, standing up and going to give him a hug. He pulls me in and he's nice and warm. He smells like burnt wood for some reason, and I want to breathe him in forever. Instead, I settle for a sweet kiss on the lips, both because I simply want to and also because it should baffle the fuck out of our kids.

Sure enough we pull away and look to them, and they look panicked. They have no idea what to do, what to say...

"Oh! Sorry... Viv, this is Y/N, Sky's mom."

The pure amusement in Spencer's voice makes me feel even warmer than being in his embrace. I look to his daughter and give her a wave. "Hi."

"H—Hi..."

It almost seems cruel to laugh at their predicament, but as I turn to Sky and introduce them to Spencer, they have clear annoyance written all over their face.

"Okay, Mom, I think we get it... How did you guys figure it out?"

"What, that you two pretended to hate each other so your principal would have to call us both in to meet?"

The pre-teens look at each other and sigh, truly defeated once and for all. "Yeah," they mutter simultaneously.

"Well, it surely didn't make any sense when you got in trouble for yelling at each other in the first place," Spencer points out. "And then when we asked you how things were working out, you both said the same exact thing..."

"It wasn't that hard to figure out, but we appreciate the effort," I add, reaching out to ruffle Sky's hair. They jerk away playfully, and I can't help but notice their smile as they peek over at Vivian.

"Our plan worked, though, so I call it a win," Vivian says with a shrug.

"As long as you two don't plan on causing any more disruptions at school..." Spencer looks between the both of them, and then at me, his eyes softening as he takes my hand and squeezes it. "Then yes. I'd call it a win, too."

I lean into him and laugh. "Turns out it wasn't Greek mythology that brought us together. It was The Parent Trap."

He raises an eyebrow, like he doesn't get what I mean, and before I can ask or explain, Vivian does it for me. "He's never seen it."

Spencer looks between the three of us like a lost and confused puppy, and we all laugh.

"Well, then, maybe we'll have to have a movie night sometime soon," I offer, reaching out for Sky.

Hand in hand, the four of us continue down the pathway, walking away from the setting sun while dried leaves rustle under our feet.

———

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 3 years

Text

Draw your swords, pt. 5

Summary: A very special dinner brings a very special moment for the Darkling and his wife.

Warnings: angst, sexual innuendoes, swearing, bit of fluff

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four

=================================

She felt caught in the riptide, finding it hard to stay upright. As the daughter of a general, Y/N had seen so many evils, so much hurt, yet she never buckled under pressure.

Staring at the empty spot beside her, she laid there while battling shadows in her head. So filled with rage, she wondered who she’s becoming as a part of her longed to feel his touch. Perhaps he was right, she’s a foolish girl who is trying to win a game where the rules are nonexistent.

Having stayed awake most of the previous night, she didn’t expect trouble sleeping. With a heavy sigh, she abandoned the bed they shared – it felt too intimate to remain there now. They’ve only ever kissed and it was never planned nor did it happen in the very bed she felt is so incredibly vast, so lonely and cold when he didn’t stay there with her.

Pacing the room as she saw his shadow do the night before, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder if he had trouble sleeping alone too. It was less than a full week since they married and she already cursed the smallest part of her that seemed to care for him.

Men are easy to love. A woman’s heart was made to care and love those near her. Mistaking love and trust is what a woman should never do. Love and trust are separate entities, one is given, the other must be earned.

Remembering her mother’s words eased her self-loathing. If she dared to love the Darkling, it wasn’t entirely under her control. Trusting him was different. She wasn’t as naïve as to allow the echoes of her heart dictate what her mind long acknowledged – he isn’t trustworthy.

And as the stars rise in the sky, she paced the room tirelessly. Arguing with herself, she paid no mind to the night sky she loved so much. If she had, Y/N might have realized a man with dark skies for eyes had trouble looking away from her shadow.

Exhausted, Y/N rose with the dawn. She had barely scraped up a few hours of decent sleep, tormented by his words even in dreams.

“Enter”, she yawned as Genya readily walked inside. The maids rushed to the bed, willing to change the bed sheets they couldn’t last time as Y/N had sent them away.

“Stop!” She exclaims as they reach Kirigan’s side of the bed, a slightly panicked look on her face relaying uncontrollable desires she had no chance of understanding.

Frowning, Genya licked her lips. While Y/N wasn’t sure what caused her outburst, she believed to know the root. “Leave us. You will be asked to change the sheets when Y/N desires it.”

Swallowing thickly, Y/N turned away. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be”, Genya mussed. “We have a dinner to prepare you for.”

“Yes, of course.” Y/N managed a smile, briefly looking to Genya. “I’ll be alone which gives me a perfect chance to find new allies.”

Blinking fast, Genya’s frown deepened. “I’m not sure who could ally with us in the Palace. Everyone’s charmed by our General. If you’d just work with him, they would all be with you too.”

“He works for the emperor.” Y/N reminded her.

Running her hands through her hair, Y/N didn’t know if she could ever trust him enough to tell him the truth. Her plans, her fight, it’s her life’s work. She came into that palace with intention of burning it down. The emperor must die and anyone else who’d fuel the flames of war must perish along with him. The war had claimed her mother’s life, of thousands of humans and Grisha alike, Y/N aimed to end it. And to end it, she had to destroy those who started it, those who refused to implement equality between species, as Kirigan called them. Humans and Grisha must be seen equally worthy, they must ally or they will be exterminated like vermin by surrounding enemies.

She grieved for her mother every day, even now as a decade had passed. Grief is really just love one cannot give to the other. It’s all the unspent love, gathering in the corners of her eyes, the lump in her throat and inside the hollowed heart that’s trying to beat in her chest. If her sorrow was but snow that could melt with coming spring, she’d shake it off her shoulder and be done with it. It doesn’t just disappear or heal with time, she could not just let it go and forgive. Y/N survived the loss of her mother by making a vow, one she was closer to fulfilling.

“Should I prepare your usual kefta?” Genya asked, holding the blue one over her forearm.

Shaking her head, Y/N turned to her with a smile. If she wants to succeeded, she must use all weapons at hand. Being the General’s wife is one of the weapons at her disposal.

“I was thinking about a different color for tonight.”

“How different are we talking?”

Smirking, Y/N’s eyes flickered to Kirigan’s kefta. “Black.”

“No one wears black but Kirigan”, Genya reminds her.

“Until he married. I believe I’m allowed to wear his color.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Genya sighed heavily. “Alright. As long as you allow me to make a few modifications.”

Anticipating the dinner, Y/N felt like a goddess in the kefta Genya had crafted for her. It fit her perfectly, adjusted just above the waist as it properly accentuated her curves. The closed collar wrapped around her neck, fallen stars creating a golden woven blaze as a necklace, while moondust adorned the long, skin tight lacey sleeves. The bottom acted as a floor length dress with a long slit revealing skin up to middle of her thigh.

Entering the room with her head held high and Genya on her hand, Y/N felt even more confident about the eclipsed sun stitched across her heart. It was bound to attract attention if the rest of her makeshift kefta inspired dress didn’t.

The moment she took a step inside, everybody’s head turned. The chatter died down, replaced by astonished gasps of pure awestruck admiration.

“I believe you’ve created a masterpiece”, Y/N whispers to Genya whose smile widens.

“You are what makes it so spectacular”, Genya winks.

“Don’t be modest. We both know it’s not in your nature.”

Giggling, Genya nods, “You’re right. I’m brilliant and this”, she steps aside to give her a once over again, “You are proof.”

Pursing her lips, Y/N felt her cheeks darken. Her plan was to draw attention so any potential ally she speaks to would be more inclined to accept her request, but she didn’t expect for everyone to stop and stare.

Tugging her by the arm, Genya pulled her closer. “You’ll never guess who is here”, she spoke in a hushed tone, looking to the left as the rest of the guests began speaking again and the music played softly in the background.

Following her line of view, Y/N’s heart came to a near stop as her eyes locked on his.

“Wasn’t he supposed to leave last night?” Genya whispers, but Y/N could hardly speak.

Breath caught in her throat, Y/N stared back at Kirigan who seemed to be just as breathless. She looked like a dream, a golden bird that carried all the happiness of the world on its wings.

“He didn’t”, Y/N looked away, knitting her eyebrows. “Why didn’t he”, she tried to finish her initial thought, but she couldn’t. If she spoke of the sudden ache that settled after the initial shock of his presence dispersed, she’d hate herself more. She’s weak if her feelings are hurt by a single night spent alone in a bed. She was certain now. She is foolish.

“You won’t be able to network tonight”, Genya’s frown made Y/N chuckle.

“You’ve been frowning so often since we met.”

Shrugging, Genya leaned in discreetly. “I can afford a few worry lines. I’ll just erase them later.”

Playfully rolling her eyes, Y/N smiled brightly. She would not allow Kirigan to dampen her mood. He can stay on his side of the room and she won’t spare him a single glance.

“I’ll test the waters”, Genya promised, “If I find anyone that we can work with, we can test their loyalty later.”

Glancing over Y/N’s shoulder, Genya’s eyes widened ever so slightly.

Frowning lightly, Y/N glanced at what has her so perplexed only to huff in frustration.

“Black suits you”, the Darkling compliments her. Holding out a hand for her to take, he glances at his open palm before raising his brow. He’s challenging her.

Looking around, she realizes everyone’s waiting for her reaction. As he told her once before, they may not be a love match, but their arrangement must seem successful to the unsuspecting eye.

“Dance with me and pretend they don’t exist”, his voice softened and she couldn’t believe this is the same man who so cruelly baited her, branding her as foolish earlier. How can he act as if nothing happened when she was still reeling from it? Not that he’d know, she always put care in every move she made around him.

She placed her hand on the palm of his, holding her breath as she chained her gaze to the abyss in his. There’s no going back, she thinks, nearly shuddering as he places his free hand on her hip.

“I thought you were gone by now”, she mussed. Choosing to take control of the conversation, she kept her neck straight as it secured a proper distance between their faces.

“We had a slight delay”, he said, “I’ll be gone tonight.”

Humming, she swallowed thickly. Avoiding looking at others, she remained in a staring match with her husband.

“How did you sleep?” The Darkling smirked, watching her eyes narrow at him.

“Quite well. Did you enjoy sharing your bed with someone else?” While her voice seemed cold and unattached, her words were anything but.

“Do I detect a hint of jealousy there?” Pursing his lips, he nearly laughed as she stepped on his foot. “I’ll take that as yes.”

“I’m merely concerned how it would look if word of you sleeping elsewhere got out. I prefer my pride and honor untouched and if you choose to find a lover, I should assume you’ll be discreet.”

Licking his lips, the great general didn’t laugh at her or sneer. There was no angry squinting or vile words. For once, he had a serious expression on his face that had nothing to do with the army or their arguments.

“I’m not the kind who would seek a lover while married. Even if the marriage is a mere arrangement.”

Scoffing, she clenched her jaw as he pulled her waist closer to him.

“How many lovers have you taken?”

He raised a brow, “That’s a horrible question.”

“Because you lost count?” She narrows her eyes, the lips he found himself so fascinated with formed a thin, red line.

He doesn’t respond, so she tried again, “Why have you not married before?”

Now he looked amused, “That’s even worse!”

Shrugging, she smirks, “Well, ask me a question then! If all mine are so awful, let me hear yours.”

“Do you think I’m a very good liar or a very unlovable being?” Slowly pulling her body flush against his, Darkling looked deep into her eyes. “I’ve never loved anyone and I’ve manipulated everyone who has fallen in love with me. So?” Inhaling sharply, he watched a disarray of emotions cross her face as he asked again, “Liar or unlovable?”

“A liar. Because you are lying, not just to me but yourself.” Her breathing is shallow, strained even. “You have a heart, General, but you’re cowering like a scared little boy instead of just facing the facts.”

“And what are those?” His voice is darker as are his intentions.

If they were alone, she was certain he’d be kissing her lips now. For some reason, it seemed he enjoyed their arguments. He liked it when she fought him almost like he didn’t know any other form of affection.

“That you care. You care and you hate yourself for it.” Stopping their dance, she managed a faint smile. “But don’t worry, I’m not spending my time waiting for you to accept it.”

Brushing his fingers across the left side of her face, he cocked his head ever so slightly, “Is it possible you’ve got this all wrong? From where I stand, you’re the one who cares – perhaps a bit too much? Let me remind you, this marriage is a sham. You are my wife, but I do not love you, I do not care for you and if you were killed right in this very spot, I would avenge you but solely for the arrangement to remain unsullied.”

Nodding, more to herself than him, she took a step back from him. For the first time ever, she drew back. “For once, we’re on the same page of the same book.”

The music stops. Looking to the man clinking his glass, Y/N’s lips part. She didn’t even realize it, but too often she entirely forgoes breathing in Kirigan’s presence.

Taking a deep breath, she nearly laughs. Kirigan…General…The Darkling. She even called him husband, yet she never even heard his first name. How odd is it to marry a man whose first name is a mystery to you, she thought.

“If you’ll excuse me”, she nods curtly without sparing him a glance.

Her seat at the dinner table was beside Genya, while Kirigan was placed all the way on the other side of the room. She smirked, satisfied she’ll have some peace during her meal. She never quite liked the table formation in a wide U form before, but she blessed the ones who created it on this evening.

Studying him from afar, she couldn’t deny the attraction she felt for him. It wasn’t some cosmic connection that she hoped she’d share with her husband, rather wishful thinking. Longing for him is out of the question. He may be the most handsome man she had ever seen, but it’s not at all something she’d thank the saints for. If he were less appealing, she’d at least be free of torment his looks bring. The devil is real and he’s not a goat like man as humans believed. There are no horns, no tails – he’s beautiful, a fallen angel, but an angel nonetheless.

“You’re staring at him again”, Genya speaks in a hushed tone, her smile audible.

“I’m not”, Y/N replies, “I simply looked over in a direction and he happened to be seated there.”

“Then why was that look on your face?” Genya raises an eyebrow.

“What?” Y/N asks, incredulous. “What look?”

“You have a certain way of looking at him”, she informs. Letting out an tired huff, Genya explains, “You look at him and it’s like you’re staring at the night sky littered with stars.”

“So?”

Genya looks down before whispering, “You love night skies littered with stars.”

Rolling her eyes, Y/N stared at her food for the rest of the evening. One bite after another and her plate was quickly emptied. Her stomach felt like it would burst, but she didn’t care. Most people claim they can’t eat under stress, but she was the opposite – her appetite only grew.

“He’s standing up”, Genya informed her and despite wishing she remained impassive, Y/N’s eyes shot up to where he was sitting.

With a lump at the back of her throat, she watched him as he headed to the door. A part of her hoped he’d be decent enough to bid his farewell, to acknowledge her at least. That part of her needed to be destroyed, she decided. It’s the part of her that would ruin her mission and for what? If she truly wanted to, she could have him on his back and under her. If she wanted him, he’d be hers – at least his body would. The principle she held onto was more important and so, she swallowed thickly and looked to her empty plate in order to stop her weakness from showing.

As she looked away, the Darkling looked back at her from across the room. He felt a strange tightness in his heart and once he saw she didn’t follow him with her gaze, his heart dropped. Furrowing his eyebrows, he kept his gaze on her for a while longer – her beauty was unmatched by anything he had ever seen. White looked good on her, every color did – but black fabric hugging her curves could bring a dead man back to life.

With a heavy heart and frown etched on his face, the Darkling turned his back and left the room, the Palace, the strangest, most beautiful creature he ever laid eyes on.

He carried her in his thoughts ever since. It aggravates him how quickly she’s gotten under his skin. Most of the month before their marriage was finalized was spent in petty comments about their armies or their distaste for one another. She was insufferable, maddening and entirely different from what he expected.

And yet, even then, the Darkling hoped she’d lose her patience and either leave or tell him she loves him. If she left, he’d be free of her and the shackles of an undesirable marriage, but if she told him she loves him, perhaps he’d believe her. If he knew there was ever a possibility of her loving him, he’d dare assume he might be deserving of love – because she may have dubbed him a liar, but he believes himself to be unlovable too. He never saw the point in allowing himself to feel a thing for her when it would be futile, wasted emotions on a woman sworn to hate him.

Once he was done chasing a rumor of a stag up north, the Darkling had to accept it too was a futile. Going after a legendary animal wasted so much of his time that he couldn’t even believe how foolish he’s become too. The stag must not be real after all.

Approaching Little Palace, he felt almost eager to run up to their shared chambers and see her. Even if she’d likely have a few choice words for him, he hoped he could make her blood boil just to hear her speak. He’d never admit it, but he missed someone he could converse with without dying of boredom.

“General”, Genya rushed to Kirigan who nearly growled at the distraction. However, Genya seemed distraught, panicked enough to draw his attention.

“Yes?”

Swallowing thickly, she wiped a stray tear slipping down her cheek. “It’s Y/N.”

His heart stops at the sound of her shaky voice, his jaw clenching before speaking. “What happened? Is she alright?”

“She went for a ride this morning and she hasn’t been seen since.”

Darkling’s gaze hardens as he grips Genya’s arms and shakes her lightly. “What do you mean?!”

“We sent riders after lunch, because I was worried she missed two meals already”, gasping for air, Genya’s tears made tracks, “The snow covered her tracks.”

She left me, he thought. She deemed me unlovable, unworthy. She left.

“They managed to find her mare”, Genya continues through tears, “It was decapitated and left in the woods.”

“Woods?” He frowns, wondering why she’d stray from the meadow and then he realized. He’s the one she rode into the woods with. She must have thought the woods were safe. They were at the time, only because he was with her and he’d never let any harm come to her.

“There were signs of struggle, but the snow is making it hard for us to track them.”

Releasing a visibly shaken Genya, he grunts. Biting his lower lip, he paced before her as his hand ran through his hair. She never saw him so worried, so mad before. He looked like a man walking a fine line – a line between madness and sanity.

“Call everyone”, he orders, “We must find her.”

Exhaling in relief, Genya smiled as Ivan emerged, having heard everything.

“Why would we do that?”

A pause ensues as the Darkling takes a step toward Ivan. “I haven’t made a promise in so long”, he spoke but in truth, it’s been hundreds of years since he made anyone a promise. “I promised her I’d protect her.” His voice was ragged, but controlled. “So I’m making a new promise right here, if they harm a single hair on her head, I will end them all. I will do it with a smile on face and I will bathe in their blood!”

They took her from him and he had every intention of ripping the world apart with his bare hands and for once, the thought of how far he’d go for that insolent woman didn’t frighten him. He barely knows her, he certainly doesn’t love her, but Saints help those who touched his wife.

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Part 6

#the darkling #the darkling x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #shadow and bone

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outsideratheart · 3 years

Text

When in New York (Kelley O’ Hara x reader)

Part 2

You had just finished post game media following your game against New York Liberty. You weren’t a huge fan of doing media but it made it easier considering Seattle had won.

You leave the conference room with Stewie who you had been doing the interview with.

“You seeing your family tonight” You shake your head.

“What about you?” She nods hers.

She bumps her shoulder into yours “Two New Yorkers beat New York in New York. Sounds like something to celebrate to me” She says and maybe she had a point.

You both walk into the locker room, some players have already left and some were still packing up.

“Y/N? Megan texted saying that her and a couple other teammates are at your parents restaurant and asked if we wanted to meet up with them” Sue asks.

Very few people knew about the family restaurant, you wanted to keep it a secret so that it could stay authentic. Your family was Italian and the restaurant was like a little piece of Italy in New York. The only people that knew where your Storm teammates and Megan, the honorary team mom.

You look at sue and she is giving you the look. After signing for the team she had taken you under her wing meaning that the two of you had got quite close.

“Ok, ok. No need to give me that look” You says.

After a quick shower and a change of clothes you leave the area, luckily for you the restaurant is only a few blocks away so you and Sue opted to walk saying that I would be your cool down / recovery.

“You said teammates” you says putting air-quotes around the word teammates “who’s there?” You ask.

“Alex and Kelley” she says which instantly bring a smile to your face.

“I thought that would cheer you up”

“Shut up”

You had a crush on Kelley, both Sue and Megan knew it. You met her last year when to US were playing in Seattle and Megan had invited you to a game. There was something about the defender that you really liked. You wasn’t if it was the fact that on the pitch she is a beast and off she is teddy but always had fun when you were with her.

You both enter the restaurant being greeted by your mom as soon as you come through the door.

“Mrs L/N nice to see you again” Sue says.

“Sue I have told you before, you can call me Maria” You mom says as she hugs you and sue makes her way to your friends.

“buon gioco dolce ragazza” (good game sweet girl) she tells you.

“grazie mamma” you reply kissing her cheek.

Meanwhile sue heads towards to table of soccer players.

She waves at everyone getting a mixture of hi’s and hello’s

“Hi babe” She says kissing her girlfriend on the cheek.

“Hi” Megan replies. “Where Y/N?” She asks noticing that you wasn’t behind sue.

“She’s in here somewhere” Sue says. She knew that you would probably been saying hi to your dad in the kitchen but she couldn’t tell them that.

“See Kel, you have a few more moments to get your crush in check” Alex jokes with her friend.

“Shut up!” Kelley replies.

“Hi guys” you say as to approach the table.

You notice Kelley staring at you so you take the opportunity to tease her.

“Like what you see?” You say making the defender blush.

“Have you ordered food yet?” You ask.

“No we were waiting for you. We know we are having though” Alex tells you as she hands you a menu.

“Thanks but I don’t need it” You say handing the menu to Sue who shakes her head letting you know she doesn’t need it either.

“You already know what you’re having?” Kelley asks.

“Not exactly” Sue says which confuses the others.

Looking around the restaurant you catch the attention of one of the waiters.

You let him know you are ready to order.

Each of the women tell him what they want and then it is your’s and sue’s turn.

You look at sue and she nods her head.

“dì a gianni che avremo quello che consiglia” (tell gianni we will have what he recommends) Sue says

“Certo” The waiter says.

You look at Sue and smile in approval.

“You getting very good, maybe time for a trip” You say.

“You speak Italian?” Kelley asks Sue.

“Y/N does and she has been teaching me for the past couple of years”

“Who is Gianni?” Alex asks.

“He is the chef here” You explain.

You start talking about the storm game when you mom bring across a bottle of limoncello hand you the bottle and 5 shot glasses.

“Grazie” You say

You pour everyone a glass and hand them out.

“You get table service here?” Kelley asks.

“No, I asked for it when I came in” You reply.

You raise you class and everyone copies.

“Here to us. We change the game and provide hope for the next generation of female athletes” You say and everyone takes a sip except Kelley who shots it.

“You sip it Kel. If not you’ll be on the floor an hour” Megan says.

“You would know” you tease causing you and the forward to laugh.

“I will pour you another but this here” you say pointing to the bottle “is the real stuff, not something you find in a liquor store. It comes straight from a vineyard in Italy where this restaurant makes it’s wine”

“You know a lot about this restaurant, the chef’s name and now where it makes it’d alcohol” Alex questions.

“What can I say, I have been coming here since I was a baby” you explain.

“that’s one way to put it” sue says under her breath, no quiet enough though as you send her a glare.

You look at Kelley as she takes a sip.

“Tastes better doesn’t it” She nods her head.

Your food arrives and you all say how nice it looks and smells.

“Oh.my.god” Kelley says between mouthfuls.

“I agree, this is incredible. Megan how did you find this place? Alex asks.

“Y/N” Megan replies and Alex nods remembering that you said you came here when I was younger.

Conversation is small and simple as you all focus on your food.

You thank the waiter telling him the the food was delicious as he clears the table.

“Y/N can I ask you a question” Kelley asks.

“Only if I can ask you one?”

“Why Italian and are you fluent” She asks

“I’m Italian so I had to learn in order to talk to family in Sicily”

“Prove it. Tell me something in Italian?”

“quando ci siamo conosciuti pensavo fossi la persona più bella del mondo”

“Sounds very romantic” Alex says.

“What does it mean?” Kelley asks.

“it means ‘when we met I thought you were the most beautiful person in the world’” You tell her making sure to look her in the eyes when you say it.

Kelley is at a loss for words, what is she suppose to say to that.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable” You say slowly regretting what you said, not that you didn’t mean because you did.

“I’ll go get us some more drinks” you says excusing yourself from the table.

“Kelley” Alex says trying to get her friends attention.

“Does she say that kind of thing to everyone?” Kelley asks sue.

She shakes her head “She isn’t that type of person Kelley”

“You should tell her how you feel” Megan suggests.

Kelley shakes her head “what if she doesn’t feel the same way”

“You honestly think that after hearing what she just said” Alex says not believing her friends blindness.

You walk back to the table with two bottles of red wine.

“Dessert wine anyone?” You say trying to avoid the awkwardness. “trust me, this will be the best you tasted”

“It’s what they make in Italy right?” Alex says, you nod pouring her a glass.

Out of all the woman at the table to knew that Alex was the one that drank wine. You wait eagerly to see If she likes it.

“Nice right”

Alex nods her head.

You all sip on your wine talking about everything and anything, for a moment you forget that you are all major athletes and it just feels like a group of friends catching up.

Once you are done Alex gets the attention of the waiter for the bill but he tells them that it has been settled.

She looks around the table confused but notices that Megan and Sue and looking directly at you.

“Y/N”

“What? We don’t do this very often. Let me treat my friends”

“Thank you” Alex and Kelley say at the same time.

You are just about to leave when your mom comes to the table.

“Did you all enjoy your meal?” She asks.

“It was incredible, I cannot wait to come back” Kelley says.

“I agree, I will definitely come back whenever we are in New York” Alex says.

“I’ll see you two soon ok” she says putting an arm around Sue and Megan. She had met them numerous times when she came to Seattle but her comment stumped the other two.

“Of course, next time your in Seattle you have to show me how to make your lasagne, I always eat the ones you make Y/N” Megan looks at you when you realises what she said.

It looks like your secret was about to get two new keepers.

“Alex, Kelley” your mom says now directed her attention to the other two soccer players “Any friends of my daughters are always welcome here”

“Wait, your daughter?” Kelley says looking at you confused.

“Meet my mom Maria” you say.

“This makes more sense. It is why you know so much about this restaurant” Alex says.

You nod your head.

You all make sure your way our of the restaurant. You had learned that Megan, Alex and Kelley were all staying in the same hotel as you and sue so you walked back together. Sue, Megan and Alex walk ahead leaving you and Kelley alone.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable earlier, it’s just that whenever I am near you I feel this connection and thought maybe you felt it too. I wouldn’t have said what I said if I didn't” you say

“I wasn’t uncomfortable, you caught me of guard. Nobody has every said something like that to me, definitely not in Italian” Kelley explains.

“I find that hard to believe, I mean look at you, you are beautiful” You say.

Kelley blushes again which you find adorable “ You were right before. I feel the connection too but I never did anything about it because we live so far away from each other”

“Can’t we just let ourself be happy even it it’s only a short period of time. We focus so much on the bigger picture that we don’t see what is right in front of us” You tell her.

“What do you have in mind?” She asks and you smile, you had wanted to do this for a quite a while.

“When do you leave New York?”

“Not until the day after tomorrow”

“Perfect! Have breakfast with me?”

“I would love to” she replies.

Kelley stops walking “for the record, I find you very beautiful too”

You smile holding you hand out and she takes it.

You walk back to the hotel hand in hand, not talking just making the most of each others company whilst you can.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt one shot #uswnt imagine #kelley o'hara #kelley o’hara x reader #kelley o’hara imagine #kelley o’hara one shot

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lxvislxdy · 3 years

Text

Lock and Key | Bakugou K.

Summary: It all started out as a harmless prank - Denki’s idea, to get the two of you to talk. It was no secret that you had feelings for Bakugou Katsuki, at least, not amongst your friends. Denki had meant well, sure, when he’d handcuffed the two of you together, but when the key goes missing... well, let’s just say, it’s gonna be a long 24 hours.

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki x reader

Warning(s): Swearing, that should be it

Notes: Reminder that my requests are open! Let me know what you’d like to see on my page! Hope you enjoy this cute little fic for Bakugou :) I just wanted to write something soft and lighthearted, and cute, so this is that.

You were going to kill Denki. That is, if Bakugou didn’t get to him first.

“Calm down, Bakubro! Murdering one of our classmates would not be very manly of you!”

And if it wasn’t for Kirishima, holding Bakugou back with all of his strength and giving you a sympathetic look as you were dragged along, Denki would’ve been toast. Literally.

“Look, man, I’m sorry!” Denki was saying, hiding behind Mina and Sero, “It’s just a prank, dude, a joke! Don’t kill me!”

“I’m gonna end you, spark plug!” Bakugou growled, “Get over here and get this shit off of me!”

Sero, barely holding back his laughter, said, “Aw, come on, Bakugou, I wouldn’t call y/n ‘shit’!”

For a moment, Bakugou blinks like he’s stunned, but then his murderous glare returns ten fold. “That’s... That’s not even what I meant, dunce face! I meant the handcuffs! Get. Them. OFF!”

You know, from the look Mina is sending you, that you’re blushing.

“Okay!” Kaminari scrambles out from behind the two, smiling sheepishly as he searches all his pockets, “No worries, man, let me just... let me... get the... key...”

Bakugou finally settles down, and you breathe a sigh of relief as he drops his hand, yours falling with it. You rub at your wrist lightly, eyebrows drawn together. You’d been handcuffed to Bakugou for almost ten minutes now, and your wrist was already sore from being yanked around so much.

“What’s taking so long, dunce face?” Bakugou grumbles.

“Well, you see, uhm... okay, listen, don’t be... don’t be mad, bro, just...” Kaminari laughs, eyes wide in fear, voice dropping so low you could hardly hear him, “I can’t exactly find it.”

You yelp in surprise as Bakugou activates his quirk, feeling the heat against the back of your hand.

“What did you say?!”

Everyone winces as he yells, face almost as red as Kirishima’s hair.

“Careful, dude, don’t burn her!” Kirishima says, hand on Bakugou’s shoulder.

Bakugou shoves him off, but listens to him nonetheless, and the heat subsides.

“It’s okay, Kiri, I’m fine.” You tell him quietly.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry,” Denki says, guiltily.

“Yeah, you’re about to be real sorry.” Bakugou says, “If you don’t get these off in the next five seconds!”

“Look, let’s just calm down for a minute, okay?” You say, stepping between the two. You feel Bakugou’s arm tug back against yours, as you move farther away from him, and your blush deepens. “Sorry. Anyway... why don’t we just see if Momo can make an extra key? Right?"

“That’s a good idea!” Kirishima says, optimistically. “See? Everything’s fine.”

“Yeah, why didn’t I think of that?” Kaminari scratches his head.

“Because you’re an idiot.” Bakugou mutters darkly.

Mina purses her lips, shifting back and forth on the balls of her feet. “Yeah, that would be great... Except Momo is visiting her parents, and won’t be back till later tonight.”

And just like that, Bakugou explodes again. “WHAT?!”

...

After a stressful call with Momo, involving Bakugou taking the phone from Mina not once, but twice, and telling her to ‘get her and her stupid ass ponytail back to UA NOW!’, it’s finally decided that you’ll just have to wait it out. Even Bakugou can’t say he’d rather go to Aizawa, because explaining this meant explaining the handprint shaped burns in Denki’s door.

Of course, Momo promises to help as soon as she’s back, but that’s still hours and hours away.

Bakugou, who still practically had steam coming out of his ears, sat beside you on the couch silently. Across from you, the rest of the group watched in sympathy (and fear). No one dared to break the silence, in fear he’d blow up on them again. You couldn’t say you blamed them.

“Come on.” Bakugou’s sudden command startles you.

“What? Where are we going?” You ask, following his lead and standing up (you were getting dragged along, either way).

He rolls his eyes, sighing, “I don’t know, but I’m not just gonna sit around like an idiot all day.”

He doesn’t wait for your response, marching out of the room. You look over your shoulder on your way out, a silent cry for help, and Denki has the audacity to give you a thumbs up and wink. You glare at him, sending your friends into a laughing fit.

“What are they laughing at?” Bakugou mutters, brow raised.

You flush in embarrassment, shrugging. “Dunno.”

The two of you eventually end up in the kitchen. You knew Bakugou could cook, everyone did because he regularly kicked everyone out of the kitchen so he could, but you’d never actually seen him in action. He was much calmer now that the two of you were alone, but the scowl never left his face.

After a few minutes of awkwardly trailing behind him as he gathered ingredients, you mustered up the courage to ask, “Can I help?”

He doesn’t answer for a moment, and you begin to think he’ll just ignore you, before he’s handing you a spoon. “You stir while I chop vegetables. I don’t trust you with a knife.”

Ignoring the backhanded comment, you take the spoon from him, happy he’s letting you help. You stir with one hand, resting the other on the counter beside him, so he can use both hands to chop the vegetables. It’s not easy, trying to cook while handcuffed to the angry blonde, but the two of you eventually find a rhythm.

“So what are you making?” You ask, turning to look at him. His focus is all on what he’s doing, and he looks so serious you try your best not to giggle. Does Bakugou ever just... relax? Still, the way his lower lip just barely juts out and his brow furrows, when he concentrates hard, is really cute.

“We’re making zosui.”

You’re heart does a little flip as he says ‘we’. He doesn’t mean anything by it, you know that, but you still have to turn away in an attempt to hide your smile. As mad as you were at Denki, you had to admit that being able to actually spend time with Bakugou doing something so... normal, domestic? It was nice. You’d spent an embarrassing amount of time daydreaming about a moment like this (except, in your daydreams, you weren’t handcuffed, and maybe there was kissing involved), but you’d never thought it would actually happen. The only time you got to spend time with him outside of class, normally, was if you asked for help with the homework or agreed to spar. But that was rare, these days. Bakugou normally sparred with Kirishima, anyway, and you always felt like a bother when you asked for help.

Sneaking another look at Bakugou, you find he’s already looking at you. He takes the spoon from you, gently bumping his hip into yours to move you out of the way, and you watch as he adds the veggies to the soup. As he stirs them in, he asks you to hand him the spices he’d set out beforehand.

“What, have you never seen someone cook before?” He asks.

You laugh sheepishly, “I ate a lot of microwave dinners growing up.”

The look he gives you is incredulous, borderline angry, and he scoffs. “You’re kidding. That shits terrible for you!”

You laugh, wrinkling your nose.

He meets your eyes for a moment, lips parted slightly, and you raise a brow at him. Before you can ask, his attentions is back on the soup, and he’s quiet again.

It doesn’t take long for the soup to be done, then, after he adds the rice. And you have to admit, even though you hadn’t helped much, you do feel a sense of accomplishment when you sit down to eat a meal that you made yourself.

The two of you sit down beside each other, forced to scoot your chairs so close that your thighs are almost touching. Surprisingly, he doesn’t complain.

“Thank you,” You say quietly, before digging in. “Wow! This is delicious!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” He rolls his eyes, but you recognize the slightly smug look on his face. “You helped.”

You giggle, bumping shoulders with him. “Sure, but you’re the chef, here!”

He hid it behind another bite of food, but you could have sworn you saw him smile, too.

The two of you finish your meal in silence, Bakugou waiting with surprising patience for you to finish eating, before putting the bowls in the sink.

“Thanks.”

He gives you a look, “For what?”

For being so nice.

“For teaching me how to cook!”

He shrugs, muttering out ‘whatever’ in reply.

“So... what do you want to do know?” You ask, hoping his tolerance for your company would last.

You end up back in his dorm, awkwardly huddled together at the head of his bed. He was reading, as you mindlessly scrolled through your phone. The silence wasn’t awkward, like you’d thought it would be. It was comfortable, almost calming. You found yourself getting tired, the more you sat there.

Eventually growing bored of your phone, you turned to see what Bakugou was reading, and started reading the pages yourself. You didn’t think he’d noticed, until he slipped his finger behind the next page to turn it, and paused.

“You done?” He said, quiet and soft, his cheeks tinted the slightest pink.

Your eyes widened, blushing, “Uh, yeah. S-Sorry.”

He turned the page without another word, looking at you from the corner of his eye. You tried to ignore him, pretending to read, before he sighed.

And then, Bakugou began to read to you.

“W-What are you doing?”

He stopped, narrowing his eyes. “Reading, dumbass.” He snapped. “You read slower than me, it’s annoying.”

Despite the backhanded remark, you grinned. “Oh. Okay.”

He started again, sounding significantly less irritated, and you tried to slow the beating of your heart. In all the times you’d imagined hanging out with Bakugou, you had never thought of something this sweet. You especially hadn’t anticipated his voice ever being this soft, and calming.

As he read to you, you shifted closer, eventually resting your head on his shoulder. He faltered for a minute, hiding his fumble with a cough, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge it. It wasn’t until he reached the end of the next chapter that he realized you’d fallen asleep.

And he definitely wasn’t blushing, no, not Bakugou.

Hours later, when Momo and all your friends piled into his room, he whispered harshly, “Wake her up, and I’ll kill you!”

Maybe Denki’s plan had worked out, after all.

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dollslayer · 3 years

Text

Champagne Problems

Bartender!Bucky x Reader

Summary: When your ex-boyfriend makes a surprise appearance at your sister's wedding you find help from an unexpected source.

W/C: 4,642

Warnings: NO MINORS, Smut, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, swearing, alcohol consumption

A/N: Hey! I know it's been a minute (sorry), I wrote this for @saiyanprincessswanie's writing challenge using the bartender au! If you like this please reblog and comment and check out my other fics!! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

You sighed internally before slapping on a smile for yet another group picture. Your bridesmaid dress was itchy and you already regretted spending the entire night in it, as the reception was just starting. But it was your sister’s day and you decided that if what she really wanted was for you to wear this itchy monstrosity to honor her wedding then damn it, you’d do it. So you leaned in close with the rest of the wedding party and posed some more.

When the photographer had finished with his photos you were ushered to the family table and wedged between your mother and your aunt. You mentally cursed your sister for seating you with them because they were going to spend the entire night trying to set you up with someone while simultaneously lamenting that you’d dumped your boyfriend of 4 years just a month earlier. Your mother wanted grandchildren so badly, you didn’t know why she couldn’t just settle to get them from your sister.

“Sweetheart, you and Steve were so good together though! Remember when he surprised you at Christmas with that puppy? I don’t know how you let a man like that go…” Your mom chided.

You grabbed the attention of a passing server and grabbed the champagne off their tray. If you were going to have this conversation again you needed liquid courage to do so. You downed it in three sips and your mom scoffed at you.

“Mom, we've been over this. I didn’t ask him to do that, we agreed we weren’t ready for a dog. Ugh, oh my god, anyways, we just didn’t work together. Sometimes things don’t work out, Mom. You’ll still get grandkids, just not from me.” You patted her on the shoulder but she just pursed her lips and looked past you to your aunt.

You wanted nothing more than to get wasted but you couldn’t do that to your sister. You wouldn’t get blackout drunk, but you were definitely getting drunk tonight. The reception was being held in a hotel and the wedding party had a block of rooms reserved so it’s not like you had to drive. You just had one thing to do before you did that.

The moment you’d been dreading had finally arrived, the toast. You held your freshly topped-off glass of champagne and brought your fork to it to get everyone’s attention. Someone handed you the mic and you hesitated before taking it and nervously cleared your throat.

By what you assumed could only be the grace of God you managed to deliver the perfect toast about finding the right person and soulmates and anything else you might find in a hallmark card with only minor stumbles. Everyone clapped and your brother-in-law wiped a stray tear and everyone finally dug into dinner. You just hoped that would mean your mother would be quiet about Steve for the next 20 minutes and then you could escape to the open bar.

____

You almost made it through dinner scott-free and sat back to watch your sister’s first dance. Just when you thought you were in the clear it was your aunt that threw a wrench in your plans. She was three glasses of wine deep and had that glassy look in her eye when she grabbed your elbow and pulled you closer. She spoke to you in a low voice while trying not to fumble her words.

“Listen kiddo, I know your mom is hard on you about Stevie but she just wants what’s best for you. What you two had… it was so good even I liked him! I don’t like anybody y’know that. So.. so why don’t you jus’ give ‘im another chance, make your mom happy? Couldn’t be that bad, could it? Maybe he’ll even… surprise you”

You mentally blocked out her words halfway through her speech, hoping neither of you would remember it by the end of the night. Right now you just had to get her to stop so you could get away from the table. You didn’t think you could take one more second of being shamed for leaving Steve.

You smiled sweetly and nodded in understanding towards her words.

“I know, Aunt Linda. I know. Sometimes things happen, I love mom but I’ll find someone else.”

With that you patted her on the shoulder and took off in search of the bar.

There were two bars and you wanted to go to the less crowded one. Looking around you had spotted it just past the dancefloor and made a beeline. Weaving through the now open dance floor and escaping the invitations to join your family you finally made it and leaned heavily against the countertop with a sigh.

“Rough night?” Your eyes follow the gruff yet amused voice and find that it belongs to a very handsome man with a defined jaw, clear blue eyes, and long hair that was tied back.

You smiled and rolled your eyes.

“You don’t know that half of it. Nothing like a wedding to remind you how single you are” You joked.

“Ah. Yeah, that’ll do it. That’s rough. You look like you need a drink, what can I get you?”

“Dealer’s choice. Just no vodka.” You requested.

He smirked and nodded, perusing the lines of bottles that were in front of him. He bit his lip as he concentrated on what to make and you tried not to stare. You watched him get to work on your drink and couldn’t help but notice the way you could see his muscles move underneath his dress shirt.

He turned back around and proudly presented you with something fizzy in a highball glass.

“My own concoction, I even used the non-watered down liquor. Just for you” He says with a wink.

You try your best to hide your shy smile and accept the drink.

“Thank you, how sweet of you.” You tell him.

“It’s nothin’. So how’s a gal like you single? If you don’t mind my asking. Seems pretty impossible to me.”

You're caught somewhere between flattery and embarrassment and just hope it doesn't show on your face. You take a long sip of your drink and gear up to answer him.

“Well, I just got out of a 4 year relationship, actually. He’s really sweet but he always had a tendency to steamroll my needs and just do whatever he was going to do. Eventually that shit adds up.” You sigh.

“Like for example - last year we had talked about getting a dog and I said I wasn’t ready, we’re just both way too busy and then on Christmas day he shows up with this puppy! And then I’m the villain for telling him no! The puppy ended up going to a good home but he did stuff like that all the time. It just became too much. Anyways now my mom won’t get off my ass about leaving him.” You shook your head.

“A puppy? Wow, that’s… intense. That’s a lot, I’m sorry. You finish that drink and I’ll pour us both a shot” He laughed.

You nodded in agreement and downed the rest of the cocktail. He held up two shot glasses and extended one to you.

“A toast, to… wait. I don’t even know your name!”

His shoulders shook as he laughed and he answered you.

“I’m James but you can call me Bucky” You made a face at that.

“What kinda name is Bucky?” You asked before giving him your own name.

“Whatever, I’ve got two shots of tequila, you want one or not?” How could you say no?

“A toast,” You continued, “To you and your weird name, Bucky.”

He laughed and you clinked your glasses together, then against the counter before downing them in one go. You tried your best not to make a face and looked up at Bucky to find him extending you the lime chaser, which you took gratefully.

“Hoo… I could use like, 3 more of those to get through tonight. So, how’d you get into bartending?”

“I needed somethin’ to put me through school and I figured this beats stripping. Though, with some of the customers we get sometimes I’m not so sure”

You laughed at that and Bucky went on to tell you anecdotes of all the crazy people he’s had to serve, disastrous weddings, and the time he got a lapdance from the bride herself. You hadn’t even realized how much time had passed but you were enjoying talking to him, forgetting your mission to be drunk.

The two of you kept swapping stories and were getting to know each other a bit more. He let you vent about Steve and just listened, it was refreshing to talk to someone and not be told what it is that you should be wanting. When you pictured the night you didn’t picture yourself confiding in the bartender tonight but if you were honest you were enjoying yourself. It beat awkwardly dancing with your family and enduring more disappointed remarks from your family.

You had hoped you could hide out at the bar and spend the entire night unscathed when the double doors to the ballroom opened. Your heartbeat in your ears as time slowed down around you as a blond head of hair made its way through the archway. Your laughter died in your throat when Baby blue eyes found you across the room and you froze like a deer in headlights. No. Nononononono this isn’t happening.

Time has somehow come to a halt while simultaneously hurtling forward since you can’t get yourself unstuck from this moment yet fail to realize that Steve is now standing right in front of you. His hair is swept back perfectly and he flashes you that million dollar smile of his that shows off his dimples perfectly. You scold yourself for checking him out but damn did he always clean up nice.

“Hey, sweetheart” he says shyly, as if he’s not crashing your sister’s wedding to get with you.

“What…? What are you doing… here?” You ask quietly, trying to avoid a scene.

Before he can answer you your mom comes up behind Steve and squeezes his shoulders tight, all with a big, bright smile on her face. Of course. How did I not see this coming?

“You made it!” She exclaimed as she leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“Of course, sorry to have missed the ceremony but there’s still plenty to celebrate, right?” He asked with his signature boyish smirk.

Shock was still in full effect on your features as you stood stock still. But that shock was soon giving way to anger as you slowly pieced together everything that was happening. Your mom had brought back Steve to try and get you back together and Steve was steamrolling you again.

“I… I, can’t. I can’t-” You started

“Sweetheart, how many of those have you had? You need some water.” Steve motions to the drink in your hand and you feel the anger running through your veins about to take over. You have to move this out of the room. Now.

“Why don’t we move this to the hall?” You suggested quietly.

You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you started moving towards the exit but you did spare one last panicked glance towards Bucky. He looked confused and his brows were quirked in a way that made him look upset, almost. You sent him a pleading look before turning back around and preparing yourself to deal with this shitshow that had slowly unfolded before you.

Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Hold. You got this. Your hand begins to push the door open when Steve’s much larger one covers yours and gets the job done. An action that you once would’ve thought was sweet, one that you would’ve made you swoon, even, is currently pissing you off.

You two made your way to the hallway and you looked around before you started in on him.

“Okay, what the hell, Rogers? Crashing my sister’s wedding? Really?! I don’t give a shit if my mom put you up to this I-”

“Sweetheart, please. She thought you might be having second thoughts and maybe us seeing each other would… patch things up. We just want what’s best for you, sweetheart” Steve attempted to console you, reaching out to try and rub your arm but you pulled back.

“No! I am so sick of you running me over! You never listened to me or what I had to say and this is exactly why I broke up with you, Steve! You’re being so fucki-”

“Hey, babe, everything okay out here?” Bucky’s voice surprised you but not as much as his lips pressing a kiss into your hair and his arms wrapping around your waist.

You had to crane your neck to look back and up at him. It took all of two seconds for you to piece together what you’d hoped was the truth. Bucky raised his eyebrows at you as if to say “come on” and in all your desperation you went with it. You supposed that his formal uniform made him pass for a regular guest.

“I, ah, yeah, yes. Steve here was just leaving, right?” You asked him.

Steve raised his eyebrows in a stunned expression, mouth slightly open in disbelief. His hand reached out towards your shoulder but Bucky pulled you back gently.

“Doll, are you serious? Who even is this guy? Does your mom know about this?”

“No, she doesn’t. It’s… new…” You told him.

“Right,” Bucky cuts in, “It’s new so we weren’t telling anyone just yet but she figured I should at least be here for the reception”

“Seriously?” Steve scoffs, “Man bun? What does he have that I don’t? C’mon, you know what you and I have is real.”

“What you and I have is over, Steve. You never listened to me, always pushed me further than I was ready for. We’re done, it’s over. I’m sorry for whatever Mom told you”

Steve took a harsh breath inwards and you watched him try to decide whether he should walk away or blow up. Based off of the veins popping in his forehead, he was opting to blow up.

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re up to but-”

“She said it’s over, punk. Move along” Bucky cut in. He took a protective step in front of you and pushed his shoulders back, squaring up to Steve. Steve seethed quietly and you two exchanged very tense glances.

“I’m telling your mother about this. I doubt she’ll be happy to hear you brought some random person to your sister’s wedding.” Steve spat.

He walked past the two of you and bumped shoulders harshly with Bucky. Bucky’s jaw tensed and his grip on your waist tightened but he didn’t retaliate. Instead he took a step back to get a proper look at you.

“You okay?”

“Why did you do that? You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but you looked like you could really use the help.”

“Well… thank you. I appreciate it, more than you know. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you weren’t there.” You laughed to yourself a little and added, “We’re not even together 5 minutes and you already have all my emotional baggage”

Bucky laughed at that and shook his head.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’ve got some crazy exes too. So what now? You going back in?”

You became a little flustered at that but moved past it with a sheepish grin.

“No,” You shook your head, “I think it’s best for everyone if I just go up to my room and avoid a whole scene.”

“Well at least let me walk you up. I wouldn’t put it past that creep to follow you.”

“What about the bar?”

“We’re overstaffed and the party’s winding down anyways. They’ll get on without me”

“Alright then” You accepted and started off towards the elevators.

You two were standing in the elevator waiting for the doors to close when you spotted the doors to the ballroom open. Your mother was looking around, her face a picture of anger. Lucky for you the doors closed before she could look in your direction and you let out a sigh of relief.

“You know as far as fake boyfriends go I’d say you’re pretty good”

“Just good? C’mon I had that guy on the ropes.”

“Yeah alright,” You relented with a grin.

You exited the elevator car and made your way down the hallway until finally you reached your door. You fished your keycard out of your wallet and turned to Bucky.

“Hey… do you wanna… maybe come in? Hang out? I know you’ve got work but if you’re overstaffed maybe…” You trailed off. There was a beat of silence and you felt regret instantly, thinking you’ve asked too much of him. “Y’know what nevermind, you don’t have to, I’m sorry I-”

“I’d love to hang out with you, if you’re okay with that. Plus it’s probably better I wait to get back until the wedding’s over. Can’t really show my face as your boyfriend and then get back behind the bar, can I?” He said with a soft smile.

“Suppose you’re right,” You swiped the card and cracked open the door.

You stepped inside and felt like you could finally breathe again. You kicked off your heels and went to turn on the lights. You reached back to get the zipper of your dress but couldn’t quite get there.

“Will you get my zipper?” You asked Bucky. He nodded and came closer to you.

You could feel his warmth radiating from him when he was this close. Your nostrils filled with the heady scent of his aftershave. He smells so good. He unzipped you halfway and left the rest for you.

You thanked him and grabbed your change of clothes and headed to the bathroom. Relieved to finally be free of the itchy monstrosity of a bridesmaids dress you sighed and put on a tank top and pair of shorts. You realized the tank top showed a little more of your cleavage than intended but you shrugged it off and exited the bathroom.

Bucky’s eyes landed on you and he took a sharp breath in but tried to play it cool. It half worked, you caught him staring a little bit and giggled to yourself. When you looked at him again he was undoing his tie and the first two buttons of his shirt. Wonder what he’d look like if he unbuttoned just a few more… You stopped yourself in that line of thinking and joined him on the couch.

“I think your phone’s gonna zap itself into an early grave with the way it’s been going off” Bucky said as he pointed to your phone on the table.

You picked it up to find you had several missed calls from your mother, one from Steve, and one very long text message from him that was already inducing a headache. You opened it, forgetting you had read receipts on. Oops. You weren’t going to read this now in front of Bucky, so you shut it off and put it aside.

“So how are you feelin’?” He asked.

“Better now that I’m out that damned dress. As for my family, they'll get over themselves. I don’t know why who I’m dating is such a big deal to them anyways.”

“You do look more comfy now that you’ve changed. If you don’t mind me sayin’ you’re just as gorgeous now as you were all dolled up”

You felt heat flood your cheeks instantly and eked out a thank you. You and Bucky talked for an hour more or so and in that time you’d found yourself nodding off with your head on his chest. On instinct he brought your whole body closer to him and put his arm around you. If you were less sleepy you’d be embarrassed but right now you didn’t care.

Bucky had moved slightly and inadvertently jolted you awake. You shot up and realized that you’d cuddled your way into Bucky’s side and now the embarrassment was catching up with you. You instantly scooted back to give him some space.

“Sorry, I uh, didn’t mean to cuddle you” You said while avoiding his gaze.

You felt a hand on your thigh and finally looked up to find him smirking at you.

“I didn’t mind it. It’s getting late though, I should get back.”

You were slightly disappointed but nodded your head. You rose and followed him to the door. He went for the handle but turned around when you grabbed his hand. He stepped away from the door and was in your personal space. You looked up at him with a shaky breath.

“Thank you, again, for what you did. It was really sweet of you.” He smiled down at you and brought one hand to your face. Oh God, I didn’t prepare for this. Your heart was beating just a little harder as you looked into his clear blue eyes.

“For you? Anytime. I had a really fun time with you tonight.”

“Me too.”

With that his other hand came up to cup your face and he kissed you sweetly. It wasn’t until you kissed him back that he pulled away.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to, I don’t wanna make you uncomf-”

You grabbed him by the shirt collar and brought him in for another kiss. This time more demanding but just as sweet. He let out a small moan and you swear you could’ve melted. His tongue explored your mouth while his hands moved their way down your body and brought you even closer to him. You could feel that he was hard and it only made you want him more.

Without breaking the kiss you started to move backwards towards the bed until finally you were just at the edge of it. You broke apart for air and searched his eyes only to find his pupils blown wide in lust. You cupped him through his pants and he groaned. He was big. Maybe even bigger than Steve.

“We don’t have to do anythin’ you don’t want to do,” He breathed out. You shook your head and kissed him again.

“I want you, I’m sure.” You panted out.

“I don’t have a condom”

“Doesn’ matter, I’m on the pill” You told him. With that his hands were up your tank top and you’d helped him to remove it. He worked on his shirt next and while he fumbled with the buttons you took off the rest of your clothing.

Bucky was every bit as devastating as you’d thought he’d be and you let out a genuine sigh. His toned muscles rippled throughout his arms and torso and you watched him remove his boxers and you’re not entirely sure your jaw hadn’t dropped. He noticed you gawking and chuckled as he leaned down to join you on the bed.

“See somethin’ you like?”

He didn’t give you the chance to answer though, he pushed you backwards onto the bed and kissed you again, this time trailing his kisses all the way down your body. He stopped and took his time to admire each of your breasts, licking and biting your nipples. You’d gasped in surprise and pleasure. He moved his way down finally to your pussy and looked up at you.

“Can I? You could only nod and let out a shaky breath as you sat up on your elbows and watched him get to work. He kissed and caressed your thighs until finally his fingers were prodding at your entrance. He groaned at how wet you were and pushed two fingers in. You let out an obscene moan and your hands went into his locks. His tongue lapped at your clit before he sucked on it, all the while pumping his fingers in and out of you in search of your G-spot.

You’d pulled his hair out of his bun and guided his tongue where he needed to be. Finally getting the right angle you were whimpering in pleasure, back arched almost to a point of pain. He’d finally found the spot he’d been looking for and your eyes shut closed in pleasure.

“Please,” you begged, “Please don’t stop I’m so close”

You pushed his head harder against you and his fingers sped up. It was only a matter of moments until your toes were curling in pleasure and you writhed on the bed in the aftershock of your orgasm. Bucky continued to lap away at you until you pushed him off. He came back up to eye level with you and had a wolfish grin.

“Who knew you’d make such noises? God it was so hot”

You pulled him in for another kiss and reached down to grab his cock. You pumped it a few times before you moved down to return the favor when he stopped you. You looked up at him with brows pinched in concern.

“Don’ worry about me, I just wanna feel you”

He moved you beneath him and you spread your legs apart for him. You were still sensitive in your post-high when his tip brushed your clit but you didn’t mind the bolt of pleasure. He aligned himself with your entrance and looked you in the eye as he pushed all the way inside of you slowly. You let out an involuntary moan, trying to accommodate his full length.

“You good?” He asked.

“I’m good, you’re just...big” He smirked at that.

“Can I move or do you need a second?”

“No, you can move, please move.”

One hand on your hip and the other on your breast he started thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace. You swore you could feel every bump and ridge of him with every inch he put into you. His pace picked up and he kissed the column of your neck, finding the one spot that drove you crazy. Your small mewls turned to full moans and he began fucking you harder.

“‘M not gonna last much longer” He told you. You didn’t say anything in response, just brought him in for another kiss and grabbed a handful of his ass to push him further inside you. He chuckled at that and took the hint.

He was going the hardest he had so far and you were holding on for dear life and loving every minute of it. His panting breaths were heavy in your ears and you reached down to toy with your clit so you’d cum together. His thrusts were getting a little sloppier and your hand moved faster, quickly approaching both your peaks. He let out an almost pornographic moan as he came, He fucked you through his orgasm and not a moment later you came for a second time. Your bodies melded together as you rode out the last waves of each other’s orgasms.

Finally Bucky stopped and held himself with one hand, trying to catch his breath. You were slightly dazed, trying to compute how your night had ended up like this. Bucky rolled over onto the bed and you felt the mess between your thighs. You looked over to him with a hazy smile.

“So, I know we’re doin’ things a little backwards here but, maybe I could take you out some time? If you want?”

Your smile grew even wider and your heart felt so light in this moment.

“I’d like that”

You didn’t know what tomorrow would hold or how to even begin cleaning up the mess with your family. You’d deal with it all in the morning, for now you’d just bask in the afterglow with your fake boyfriend and be grateful for chance meetings.

#missys writing challenge #bucky barnes x reader #bartender!bucky #fake dating #marvel fic #marvel au #marvel x reader #smut #bucky barnes fic #fluff #slight angst

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solarwonux · 3 years

Text

84. “I can tell you’re stressed, let me fix that.”

roomate!junkook x f!reader

genre: smut

w.c: 3.2k

warnings: smut, fwb, Jungkook and his tattoos, tattooartist!jungkook, dom!jungkook if you squint, spiting, cum eating, oral sex (m receiving), a brief mention of voyeurism, briefly edited, also Jungkook is kind off fluffy, this couple is weird af y’all.

note: hello, Idk what I did but I’ve done it lol. This is also a drabble that will eventually be part of a bigger story that I have half outlines lol, so I hope you enjoy this preview. I hope you like it please let me know your thoughts. Enjoy.xx

MASTERLIST || PROMPTS

Fourth time’s the charm.

Jungkook thought as he made his way to the front door of the tattoo shop. He pulled on the handle rather harshly making sure it was closed. Last week he had forgotten to lock the door, resulting in a drunk stranger walking in demanding a tattoo. Thankfully, the stranger’s intrusion triggered the security alarm, waking Jungkook in a fright. He ran down the steps of his apartment - the one located above the shop, half naked, carrying the bat you and him kept by the front door, his heart pounding against his chest.

To say the least he was terrified. Scared that something would happen to the expensive tattooing equipment. Scared that Yoongi would fire him and therefore kick him out of the apartment, scared of something happening to you. His nerves subsided when he found the drunk stranger, passed out on the couch in the waiting room.

The equipment, his job and you were all safe.

Ever since then he had made it his mission, even writing it down on a highlighter yellow sticky note as a reminder; to check not once but four times if the front door was locked.

Jungkook sighed, giving the door one last pull, making it rattle against the locks, before deeming it locked. A fifth time wouldn’t hurt.

He turns around, walking past the waiting room and the reception desk. He does one last look over, mumbling underneath his breath, checking to see if he had done everything he needed to do on his to-do list before turning off the lights. Quickly, he pushed aside the colorful paint splattered curtain that hid the front door to his apartment to the general public. He pressed in the code, waiting for the lock to click, going over the appointments or lack there off he had the following day.

As of late, Jungkook, Yoongi, Jimin and Hoseok hadn’t had many clients come into the shop or request an appointment via instagram. He blames the rival shop that opened a few blocks away, and their stupid flash event, where they tattooed people for free. Of course they weren’t intricate pieces, small basic ones that you would pick out from the generic tattoo binder. But it still caused a dent in their clientele.

That night you came home after work to find the four tattooists, on the couch, shooting glares at the shop door, with a large bottle of whisky in between them, and their man-size ego down in the slumps. The solution was simple, at least it was in your head.

“Hold an event like theirs, maybe shirtless. I’ve only seen Jungkook’s abs because he loves walking around the apartment half naked but I’m sure you guys have a promising pair.” You suggested with a shrug, earning groans and complaints from the four artists on the couch.

Yoongi stood up first, holding a hand out as an attempt to regain his balance from the sudden movement. “I’m not degrading myself or my art for clients. I’m also not giving away my talent for free.” He slurred, pointing an accusatory finger in your direction, “and my abs are better than Kooks.”

“Alright, it was just a suggestion.” You held your hands up in defeat, taking a step back. “I’m going to bed, enjoy your pity party.” You smiled at them before making your way to the front door and disappearing.

In hindsight, maybe you were right. Except for the half naked part, that’s dangerous and goes against all tattoo etiquette. But maybe holding a flash event and offering tattoo’s half off was not a bad idea. It would surely bring back their clients and make way for new ones. He would have to bring it up to his coworkers tonight when they came over.

Jungkook sighed, stopping at the top of the stairs facing the final door that led to his living room. He could hear the loud poppy music you were playing behind the door. Living with you wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be when Yoongi first offered you the vacant room. You were clean, organized and relatively respectful of personal space, but he hated your music. It was generic and just way too bouncy and happy, it was a good thing you gave a great head, if not he would’ve begged Yoongi to kick you out long ago. Before he got attached.

He wasn’t a dick he just thought with his dick ninety nine percent of the time and right now it was very much needing a stress release. Jungkook punched in the final code and opened his front door, revealing you in nothing but a tight pair of leggings and a sports bra, sweat droplets running down your body as you followed along with the exercise video on youtube. You looked very much like you would look after the two of you finished fucking and it made his cock stir in his jeans.

“Did you lock the door?” You said in between breaths, squatting down, finishing your last rep of squats. Jungkook bit his bottom lip, nodding in response. His hands were down by his sides, itching to squeeze your ass, to pull you against him and take you on the couch. It wouldn’t be out of pocket either. He knew you would give in the second he gave you that lust filled look of his. The one that was desperate and needy and practically begging for your touch.

You stopped pausing the video and turned to look at him, hands on your hips, chest heaving in a poor attempt to catch your breath. Jungkook knew he was fucked. “Are you sure you locked the door?”

“Yes I checked five times tonight, have you had dinner?” He blinked rapidly, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his jeans hiding his hardening cock as best as he could.

“An hour ago.” You reassured, unpausing the workout video and positioning yourself in downward dog.

Jungkook looked up at the ceiling, taking deep breaths following your haggard ones and counted to ten. He couldn’t take it anymore; he needed you. Needed your mouth around him until he was painting the back of your throat white. Counting to ten once wasn’t enough to calm him down. It wasn’t until he was halfway through his third recount that he felt your arms circle around his waist, a faint kiss left underneath his earlobe, that he knew he was done for.

“I can tell you’re stressed, let me fix that.” You whisper leaving opening mouthed kisses down his neck tonguing the spot between his clavicle and neck. Jungkook’s eyes opened wide, his lips parting in an inaudible sigh.

“Fuck baby please.” He caved, taking your head in his hands and pushing you away before leaning down and capturing your lips with his, in a wet, messy and needy kiss. He didn’t care that your lips were salty due to the sweat, they felt like heaven against his.

You moaned into the kiss feeling the wet muscle of his tongue swiping against your bottom lip asking for access, in which you so rightfully gave him. His hand left your cheek and traveled down your neck until it was groping your boob through your thin sports bra. You pulled away to catch your breath for a few seconds, whimpering as his palm worked against your hardened nipple diligently before kissing him again, teeth clattering against one another.

He pulled away pushing your sports bra up releasing your boobs, his index fingers and thumbs pinching your nipples and pulling on them gently. “Jungkook, w-what do you want?” You moan, closing your eyes as he rolled your nipples between his sweaty palms. Not only did Jungkook love touching your ass, he also loved playing with your boobs, claiming they were the best pair of boobs he had ever seen in his entire twenty six years of life.

“Get on your knees baby girl, want to see your lips wrapped around me.” He mumbles against the crown of your head while he continues to knead at your boobs.

You nod kissing the outline of the tattoo that was peeking against the neck of his white t-shirt. You send him a wink. A deep hum leaves his lips as you slowly kissed your way down his clothed chest, until you were face to face with his jean cladded bulge. You looked beautiful, your eyes glossy with need and your mouth watering as you couldn’t wait for the weight of his cock against your tongue.

He puts his hand on the back of your head and pushes your face against his jeans, he was so hard he could feel himself pulsing with need. It didn’t help that your fingers were walking up his thighs at an agonizing pace, while your mouth was now kissing him through the fabric, satisfied hums leaving your lips. “You’re so fucking hard Kook.” You pull away finally unbuttoning his jeans, your fingers brushing against him while you unzip his pants slowly.

“You’re such a tease baby girl, almost makes me think that you want to get punished tonight.” He tilts his head, pushing his hips into your hands as you palmed him over his boxers, while your other hand pushes his jeans down, leaving him in only his t-shirt and black boxers.

You look up at him smirking, leaning in to kiss the tattoo decorating his thigh. You had gotten off on it many times before, it was your favorite pastime when you were needy and bored. “Maybe I do, take your shirt off.” You demanded, biting down on his skin making him jump.

He grabs your face, squishing your cheeks making you face him, “Be careful I’m not feeling very nice today.” The sinister look behind his eyes makes you shudder, “open your mouth,” You smile, parting your lips sticking your tongue out before Jungkook leans over, a glob of spit hitting your tongue making you moan in delight. “What do you say?” His grip on your cheeks is hard.

“Thank you sir.” You mewl, hooking your thumbs underneath the waistband of his boxers, wasting no time in freeing him. His cock was pretty, you had once told him that and it made him double over in laughter. No one had ever called his cock beautiful. Maybe big but never beautiful but you were a character and he should’ve expected a comment like that from you.

“Good girl, now go on, this is all you’re getting tonight so you better enjoy it.” He wraps his hand around himself, spitting down onto his length using it to lube himself up before guiding it to your slightly parted lips. He knew you loved to watch him touch himself, sometimes if you weren’t home and he was needy he would sit on the couch fucking his hand knowing you would walk at any minute and help him finish the job. Or sit in front of him on the coffee table, legs spread wide touching yourself, moaning his name like his fingers were inside of you instead of yours. If Yoongi knew the dirty escapades that happened behind the walls of the apartment above his tattoo shop he would never step foot inside again. Thankfully he didn’t know, yet.

You stick your tongue out and lick his head, rolling your nipples against the palm of your hands. The sight was award winning and Jungkook wanted to so badly get his camera out and capture the moment. To add to your shared collection. “So fucking sexy baby girl, always so good for me.” He tapped the head of his cock against your tongue before you close your lips around him, running your tongue underneath the head of his cock.

Jungkook’s hand came behind your head, guiding you further down his cock sending a thrum of arousal up his spine. You hollow out your cheeks looking up at him with watering eyes. He moans, gripping your ponytail, giving you an experimental thrust making you gag around him. It sounded like the beginning of a beautiful melody, not the ones that belonged to your shitty pop music but the one that would keep you up at night lost in thought.

“Fuck, your mouth feels like heaven.” He thrusts again, while you tug on the hem of his shirt. “Want to see me, look at my tattoos while I fuck your mouth?” He grunts, quickly discarding his shirt once he hears the needy moan that escapes your cock filled mouth. He knew his tattoos were your ultimate turn on. The reason you had gotten on your knees before him the first time after living together for a full year. He couldn’t say no, not when the only thought running through his mind was the stain your red lipstick would leave behind on his cock.

Calm him a douchebag or compare him to a hormonal filled teenager, he didn’t care. He was a man after all. One that hadn’t had sex in two years after his last girlfriend cheated on him with his brother.

Frankly, he needed an ego boost and you were there to give it to him, so he caved.

You pull off of him breathing heavily, a thread of saliva connects your lips to the head of your cock as you try to catch your breath. The sight was anything but underwhelming and enough to make him cum, but Jungkook hated his cum going to waste. He was healthy and young and it should go to good use.

“I-I want you to use my mouth, please.” You croak before dragging your tongue up and down his shaft. “Want you to cum in my mouth sir.” Mumbling, you tease his head with the tip of your tongue making him groan.

“Such a dirty mouth, it's a good thing I’m making good use out of it.” He says, a cocky smirk evident on his face. You nod happily, humming with please as you take him into your mouth again, sinking further, hollowing your cheeks moaning around him as you watch his face scrunch up in pleasure. His abs contract as he tries to control himself, at least until you give him the go ahead. And you do with a slight tap of your fingers against his thighs.

He growls, thrusting his hips into your mouth, guiding your head up and down, gagging around him. His cock feels hot and heavy against your tongue, making both of you moan simultaneously. “Always letting me use you, what would our friends say if they walked in. You know I invited them over for drinks, right?”

You whimper around him, closing your eyes at the thought of getting caught with him, balls deep down your throat. You hated that he had caught onto your slight voyeurism kink as it was only a matter of time where he threw all tattoo etiquette he knew and lived by out on the window and fucked you in his workshop, with only a thin curtain separating you and the rest of the shop.

His thrusts get more desperate. His orgasm was approaching quickly as he twitched inside of your mouth. You dig your nails into his thighs, creating crescent moons as you feel your lungs start to give out. He mutters a low fuck followed by a quick apology before he pulls away. You gasp resting your hand against your chest, your eyes are filled with tears, bubbles of saliva painting your chin. Jungkook swears he’s never seen a sight as beautiful as this one and once again he’s cursing himself for not giving himself enough time to grab his camera.

“Can you go more or do you need a break?” He whispers, eyes filled with concern while he caresses your cheek with his thumb.

You shake your head, “Just give me time to regain my breath.” With a soft smile you leave a chaste kiss against the tattoo decorating his hip. It was part of a bigger piece, one that adorned the entire right side of his body, but nevertheless for some odd reason it was your favorite one.

Jungkook nods, wrapping his hand around himself, muffled curses escaping his beautiful lips. “I’m so close, baby girl, just let me cum on your face.” He all but begs, gripping his cock tightly and thrusting his hips into his hand.

You pout, a sound of protest leaves your swollen lips making Jungkook roll his eyes. “You can blow me again later, open your mouth baby.” He tucks his lips in between his lips, hips casting into his hand desperately. The pool between your legs grows, overflowing as you watch the mesmerizing sight in front of you. God, he was so fucking sexy.

You open your mouth sticking your tongue. Jungkook throws his head back moaning your name in a sweet incantation, ropes of cum hitting your tongue and cheeks, while you moan along with him.

Jungkook opens his eyes, riding out his orgasm, painting your chin watching as you drag your tongue into your mouth swallowing his salty substance, humming in satisfaction. “J-Jungkook.” The needy way you say his name makes his cock twitch and he has to keep himself from getting hard again.

“You look so pretty baby girl, so fucked out and pretty, only for me.” He whispers, collecting the cum that was dripping down your chin with his thumb before bringing it up your lips, coating them. “So filthy too, thank you baby.” He leans down, running his tongue against your cheek collecting his cum before kissing you slowly and sensually, pushing his tongue inside of your mouth, coating the inside with his cum.

Jungkook hates his cum going to waste. You whimper, snaking your arms around his neck pulling him closer, sucking on his tongue. He grins against your lips and moves away, chuckling as you continue to chase his lips with yours. “I need you Kookie.” You sigh, a pout forming on your swollen lips. “Please just fuck me, use me. I don’t care anymore.” You let out a sob, your pussy throbbing begging to be touched.

He helps you up, circling his arms around your waist, nosing your hair as he sighs. He wants to give him, lead you to the couch, but the guys were going to be here at any minute and he couldn’t have time to please you the way he wanted to.

“Let’s go shower, I promise the second the guys leave I’ll eat you out like a starved man.” He suggests, leaving a light kiss against your forehead. He didn’t feel as stressed as he was earlier, but that’s all thanks to you and how easy it was for him to get lost in your world.

“Is that a promise?” You tilt your head curiously, toying with the hair resting against the back of his neck.

“I always keep promises, baby girl.”

#kpopscape #kdiarynet #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #jungkook scenarios #bts scenarios

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lovelyyy-luna · 3 years

Text

halloween night

pairing: (fezco x fem!reader)

fandom: euphoria

type: fluff

warning: mentions drug drop off’s and having a joint

word count: 1277

date: march 22, 2021

masterlist

Halloween was always such a fun time when you were younger, but since you weren’t a child you wanted to actually do things that normal people your age do around this time of year.

You got together with your friends and dressed up ready to party.

“Come on Y/N, you would look so hot in this,” Kat whined.

“I'm not sure Kat this doesn’t really feel like me.”

“Ugh, that’s the point of Halloween, Y/N. You aren’t supposed to be yourself, you’re supposed to be what you secretly want to be.”

“Um, I don't think I secretly want to be little red riding hood.”

“Hello you are going to be SEXY little red riding hood,” she laughs and then you start to relax and laugh along with her.

You finish getting ready and your group heads out to the party.

Walking down the sidewalk you felt a wave of nostalgia seeing all the little kids all giddy and probably high off sugar.

You reach the house and you go in. the music thumps throughout the house and you can feel the bass in your chest.

You get two drinks in you and you decide to go out for some fresh air. The cool air nipped at your face and sent chills down your arms. You lean against the house trying to keep warm.

Then a familiar face comes from the side of the house. Fez.

“Hey, Y/N. Why aren’t you in the party?”

“Got a little rowdy in there for me. Why aren’t you in the party?”

“Oh, I’m just here for business. Halloween is one of my busy days.”

“Oh, I bet. Why didn’t you dress up? It’s Halloween!” you chuckle.

“What are you talking about? I'm dressed as a drug dealer.” he laughed and had a half-lit joint and handed it to you. You inhaled and held it for a few and then exhaled while rolling your eyes.

“So uh, do you want to get out of here? I have a few more drops to do, but maybe we can go back to the shop and watch a scary movie?” he asked.

“Really? I mean yeah I’d love that. Let me just let the girls know.” you left to find your friends.

You only found Maddy, “Hey girl! Isn’t this party awesome so many cute guys right?”

You can tells she was drinking, “im leaving w-”

“What? No, you can't go! I met some guys and they think you’re really cute.” she says poking your chest.

“Thanks, Maddy but I'm going to hang out with Fez.”

“Ooh really? Well, have fun! Try not to get pregnant!.”

You playfully shove her and go back outside.

You find Fez on his phone and you stand in front of him, “ready to go?”

He shut his phone off and nodded his head and walked to his car while you followed.

You got in the car and he grabbed his bag full of product to double-check he had everything for the next drop.

The car ride was mostly quiet. The only sound was the radio on low and since you were driving in a residential area you were going slow and can hear the sound of the kids still out trick or treating.

He finished the last two drops and you headed to the shop. He unlocked the door and both of you headed inside. Ash was nowhere in sight. But you found him in the back of the shop passed out with candy wrappers surrounding him. Even though he was in the dealing business he was still a kid.

Fez put a blanket around him and then headed back to the front of the shop. “Do you want anything?” he asked.

“Um sure.” you look around and grab a bag of skittles. You and him sit behind the counter and he pulls out his laptop and pulls up Netflix and puts on a scary movie.

The shop was a little cold and you scoot a little closer to Fez resting your head on his shoulder but he didn’t mind.

The movie was getting kinda creepy and some scenes caused you to jump and Fez laughed at you. “Do you want me to put something else on?”

“No, I like this movie.”

Both of you finish the movie and he gets a call on this phone and he heads to the back to take the call.

You sit there waiting for him to come back. He comes back out and is very annoyed.

“Everything okay Fez?”

He sits back next to you. “No Mouse needs me to do six more drops next week but I don't have enough product.”

“Can you tell him that?”

“Only if I want to get beat up or some shit.”

You chuckle, “Fez you always figure it out in the end.”

His head dropped down and was cradled in one hand and you grab his other hand trying to soothe him.

“Sorry for bringing down the mood.”

“You didn’t Fez. um, how about we go for a walk so you can clear your head?”

He nods and you both walk to the door and he locks it behind him.

The air was still cool and it was nice out. There was still a chill and you got goosebumps. Fez noticed and took his jacket off and told you to put it on. You didn’t want to argue with him so you do what he said.

The walk was quiet and then interrupted by Fez stammering to ask you a question, “Uh, um Y/N, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“What did you think of today?”

You looked at him confused. “Like what do you consider what we did today? Okay, let me start over. Us hanging out, do you consider it a date?”

Your face started to burn up, “um well let me see if it hit all my dating criteria. Was it just us most of the night? Yes. Did we have good food? Skittles are always a good call. Did I have fun tonight?”

You stop in your tracks and he does as well and he stood in front of you. You can see the fog of his breath.

“Yes, I had a lot of fun tonight.”

He smiles and goes in to kiss you. But just like any cheesy typical romantic moment, your phone starts to ring.

You both sigh and you answer it. It was Jules, she didn’t know how to handle all the girls completely plastered. You tell her that you’ll be right over.

“Im sorry. Do you think you can drop me off at Kats?”

He nods and you walk back to the car.

In the car you listen to whatever was on the radio, quietly singing along to it. You were lost in the song not noticing Fez looking at you every couple of seconds smiling.

You pulled up to Kat's house and just sat in the car. You didn’t want to leave, you wanted to finish what was almost started.

You get out of the car and walk by his side of the car. Through the window, he grabbed your hand. “Y/N?”

You bend down to the window, “yeah Fez?”

He pulled you in close and kissed you deeply. His hand slipped through your hair.

“Y/N! Hurry up! They are acting up!” Jules hissed at you.

You both laugh and part ways.

“Hey Y/N! When you are done babysitting your friends I’ll come pick you up for a second date.” he smiled from the car

You were flustered and nodded your head and went up to Kat's room.

♡please like and/or reblog♡

wanna be tagged? (X)

#lovelybean #euphoria #fezco #fezco x reader #fezco x you #fezco x y/n #fez #fez x reader #fez x you #fez x y/n #angus cloud #angus cloud x reader #angus cloud x you #angus cloud x y/n

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sombreboy · 3 years

Text

Expensive doll⇢jjk & pjm

[ masterlist ] Serves as an afterstory for our series Mused Obsession, but can be read on its own.

Written together with @chimoona as JM and @sombreboy as JK

Synopsis: In celebration of their one year anniversary, Jungkook dresses Jimin up in lingerie & makeup as his picture-perfect doll and ruins him in every way he desires.

⇢Explicit (18+) ⇢Pairing: Jungkook & Jimin ⇢Genre: smut, mxm ⇢Word count: 15.7k ⇢Ch.warnings: Profanity, JM dressing in lingerie and wearing makeup, messy kissing, degrading petnames and dirtytalk, breathplay, bj, praise kink, JK's fetish for crybaby JM remains intact, body worship, foot fetish JK literally slorps JM's petite little foot and it is v erotic join us feet hoes, some biting, mentions of blood(from a sharp stiletto lol dw), ok hold up and stay w me here JK rides JM but he is in no way a bottom, this is some top ridin' stuff to drive Jm mad and let me tell you it works, then JK puts little JM back in his place where he belongs stuffed with dick, rough fucking, in fact its so rough that JM can't hold his pee im not even sorry-- it was hot, idk what else if you've read any of my stuff you should just kinda know what you're up for. xo

The chime of the security alarm strikes the quiet mansion as Jungkook shuts the door behind him, kicking off his shoes in a hurry. He hugs luxury shopping bags close to his chest, trembling with excitement. He'd been holding onto the bags at work to ensure Jimin didn't see them for days, which felt like months—especially today, to finally come home to his favorite person in the entire universe and spend their first official anniversary together.

It's been an entire year since Jimin proved his love and dedication to the photographer, and life couldn't be any better than it is now. They're unstoppable, thriving as the biggest names in the industry. With a lot of fame—a lot more on Jimin's end—comes a lot of work and less time together, except for when they manage to crawl into bed at the end of the day. So, Jeon Jungkook wanted to make tonight extra special. He'd missed having Jimin truly just for himself; not just as a boyfriend, but as a model and his muse.

"Baby, I'm home." Jungkook calls out as he eyes the rooms, listening to where Jimin could be. He knows the model had the day off, so the younger man had given him a little white lie—he wouldn’t be able to make it home early. Yet here he is, giddy like a child and ready to surprise his beloved butterfly.

"Come to me~" He adds cheerfully while walking towards the stairs, searching for Jimin when he hears the small thuds of his lover's light footsteps.

"K-kookie?" Jimin calls from their bedroom, rubbing his sleepy eyes after a long nap. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Jungkook arrive.

Thinking he had more time to get dressed and ready for their night together, he's caught, fresh from restful sleep, wearing only an oversized t-shirt and tight black briefs. The night was planned to a T...in Jimin's mind. A brand new suit hung in the walk-in closet, designed and tailored specifically for his body. He knows how the young photographer likes to ogle when the fabric of his pants hugs his plump cheeks daringly, almost too tight for a public setting.

But tonight, there will be no public outing. No distractions from the outside world, getting in the way of their time together.

As high-profile as the two men have grown over the last year, they've found it hard to take a leisurely night out on the town without being spotted by a fan of their work or an industry mate trying to cut into their fun. It's been a rollercoaster, but it's been the thrill of their lives. Even then, it's necessary to plan nights of relaxation and indulgence. So, Jimin set out candles and dipped ruby ripe strawberries in milk chocolate, planning a romantic night with just the two of them. He even chilled a bottle of overpriced champagne—a gift from Namjoon, hand-delivered for the happy couple. It was assumed that since Jungkook was working late, the ambiance of a well-kept home and a willing partner was all he wanted anyhow... Until, of course, Jimin glides down the stairs and spots his lover with armfuls of bags. Designer bags.

"Welcome h-ooome," he yawns, still finding his voice, "And happy anniversary, baby." He leans in and stands on his toes, pressing his body into the bags held at Jungkook's chest to give him a sweet kiss. "I missed you a lot...and I cleaned up too, but I guess I fell asleep at some point. I was going to get all pretty for you, so just pretend I'm dressed up right now."

“You’re gorgeous, baby.” Jungkook smiles into the kiss, returning it softly. He pulls back to drink in the fresh state Jimin is in. No makeup, barely dressed... It's like the visionary’s plans were fated to happen. “And this is perfect for what I have planned for you. A clean canvas, so to speak.” The young photographer adds as he hands over the bags to his lover. “Take off everything you’re wearing and put this on, nothing else. And bring the small bag with you to the studio.” He leans in closer to allow the hot breath of every spoken word to fan over Jimin’s cheek, whispering his next words. “I’ll be waiting for you. Okay? Now go.”

Accustomed to following the photographer's orders, Jimin doesn't waste a moment scurrying to the bathroom and peeling off his shirt on the way in. He kicks off his underwear and sits on the closed toilet seat to skim through the first bag's contents. The second he runs his hands over smooth silk ribbons and lace, his heart leaps out of his chest.

Lingerie. Women's lingerie, he notes internally as his fingers skim the fabric with a timid touch. It feels small in his hand, and he already knows it's not meant to cover much. Jungkook has always been an appreciator of visual art, and in the back of Jimin's mind, he always knew this moment would come. The female form can be voluptuous and sensual—soft to the touch and comforting when held close.

Without taking the lingerie out to inspect it closely, Jimin knows this look is made to illuminate his feminine traits—to hug the small of his waist and accentuate the curve of his hips, prominently displaying some of his lover's favorite parts with exaggerated flair.

As a former full-time model, Jimin doesn't think twice about indulging this new request from Jungkook. He's been half-naked in front of strangers in very scandalous clothing, it's only right he indulges his partner with the same courtesy, under his exact specifications.

He sets the smaller bag aside and removes the clothing, gasping at the bright red shade the younger man had chosen. It looks like fresh blood as he tugs it onto his small body—ribbons drip down his legs to capture the matching set of pure red stockings. When he slips them over his legs, they stop at the feet, hugging them tight and showing the delicate curve of his arches.

A slender garter belt cinches high around his waist and rests low on his hips, made of a thin weave of lace that opens up at the belly button to show off the cute dip of his tummy. Not even fully dressed, he feels pretty...desirable. With each new addition, he feels his confidence grow, matching the opulent fit his love has chosen for their special occasion. Jimin grasps the silk ties that dangle off the belt and loop them into the stockings, holding them tight against his body and matching the two pieces as one. He takes his time to billow the ties into eye-catching bows, adding more of a feminine flair to his long slender legs.

He opens another bag and clasps his hand over his mouth, pulling out an accompanying bralette, so fair and petite. It's soft on his skin. Everything feels so soft and erotic, like it was crafted to draw moans from his mouth before he's even touched by warm hands. The gentle graze of the lace over his nipples makes him bite his lower lip to push back building arousal. When he crosses his legs to finish clasping the bralette behind his back, he feels the rub of new lace against his cock, only drawing his attention to the fact that women's underwear does not provide enough room to hold him fully. If he gets harder, which he's certain he will, it will be impossible not to poke out and dribble over the rouge fabric.

Once Jimin empties the bags and slips every bit of clothing onto his body, he steps back to admire the full look. Even in the dim bathroom mirror, he finds every little bit of his form jaw-dropping as it's prettily wrapped in red. But no look is complete without a matching set of kitten heels, which he slips onto his red silken feet. He immediately notices how the added height accentuates his plump cheeks, out in the open, skimmed down the center with a cheeky thong.

"Woah..." The model takes a few strides across the bathroom floor to get a feel for the new footwear. A few clumsy trips over the tile to get started, but after a couple minutes, his confidence is through the roof. He can stride effortlessly and sway his hips in a subtle yet seductive manner.

"O-okay." He psyches himself up, licking his thick lips in a quick swipe while he drinks in a final look of his fit. He grabs the smallest bag, still unopened, and exits the bathroom to find Jungkook waiting for him in his personal studio.

Meanwhile, Jungkook just finished setting up the finishing touches to his studio and waited for the most important centerpiece of the night. His favorite camera sits on a tripod next to his large armchair, which is to be his spot to admire his creation. He presses record before he forgets to, and knowing how he will soon see his lover in the new lingerie, there'd be no time to think about whether or not the camera captures it all. What he didn't expect, however, was to find the fresh chocolate dipped strawberries, paired with a bottle of champagne. He immediately noted that this wasn't something he had in his own collection, so he figured this was Jimin's preparation for the night.

"So sweet to me, always.." Jungkook sighs dreamily when placing the strawberries and the bottle on the small table next to his chair as he takes his seat. His lover always finds little ways to show his affection; always considerate of Jungkook in everything he does. It's cute, and even if the elder man's plans might not be what he initially thought, Kook is sure that this will surpass anything he had in mind.

"He should be here soon..." He leans back in his seat, still wearing the suit he'd worn all day at work. His strong, tattooed fingers wrap around his tie and tug at it to loosen the fabric a bit. He rolls up the sleeves of his white dress shirt after discarding the suit jacket to let it be thrown on the floor behind the chair. His breathing slows down when he listens intently for the powerful sound of heels coming from the bedroom, echoing in the hallway. Although he knows what to expect, he still doesn't know just how it would look-- how his Jimin would pull off the look. The thick swallow in anticipation causes his adam's apple to bob, already excited as his heart beats harder in his chest.

Jimin bottles his nerves and clicks his heels with slow steps, echoing deliberately on the hard floor until he reaches the studio doorway.

"Don't laugh, okay?" He smirks at his own words, still hidden around the corner of the doorframe, knowing there's no way on earth Jungkook could find this fit humorous. "I'm coming in..."

One step forward, and he's basked in the low light of the photographer's setup. He swallows hard at the first sight of Jungkook, even when he's dressed the same as when he left him. The loosened tie captures his attention, and he swallows again at the thought of holding it while he glides his silken legs over his lover's lap to ride him roughly. The anticipation of what Jungkook has in store for Jimin is overwhelming.

Jimin gives the photographer a moment to gather himself before he walks forward, placing one heel in front of the other and sashaying his hips with each step. The camera blinks red to indicate it's recording, and Jimin doesn't let it distract his attention for a second. He moves in a slow weave, looking up at his partner under a tempting hooded gaze--long eyelashes beckoning him closer. When he reaches the center of the studio, he stops for further instruction, standing with confidence and poise.

"You chose well, baby. I love it." He gives a slow twirl, pivoting on his slim heel to show off the back, pausing to give the younger man a good look. "...do you like it?"

“I really like it.. I knew you’d look perfect in this.” Jungkook drinks in the entirety of his lover, his heavy gaze not leaving a single inch of the model's body unseen. The lingerie is perfect, covering just enough—but doesn’t hide anything. His hungry eyes travel down the blonde model’s back; from his slender back to his plump ass, not to mention how the posture from the heels make it stand out even more. “Did you bring the small bag?” He asks, beckoning Jimin to come closer with a wave of his hand, itching to feel his delicate body beneath his fingertips.

Jimin nods yes, stepping towards his lover. "I didn't peek, I was good." He says it in an innocent tone, as if he doesn't look like a goddamn succubus in fuck-me heels. A brilliant red strap of his bralette slips down his shoulder, which he takes his time slipping back into place. Even if he feels a bit out of place in this new look, he pulls it off with grace and seduction.

Jimin hands the bag to Jungkook. "I'm sure whatever it is, it'll make this moment even better." He kneels at the photographer's feet in a natural subservient position, resting his elbows on the man's thighs and peering up at him for further instruction.

"Yes." Jungkook says softly while taking the bag in his hands, giving Jimin an approving smile. While his face remains unbothered, the strain of his half erect cock proves that he's anything but. The visuals of the elder in such sinful fabrics drives him crazy, and eager to ruin them in every way he pleases. "You're such a good boy to me. Always trusting me with your everything."

Jungkook digs into the bag, pulling out a small, high end lipstick. He puts the bag to the side, grabbing Jimin's chin with his free hand while popping the lid off the lipstick with his thumb, leaning forward in his seat to get a proper look of his lover's bare face.

"Pout." He instructs, twirling the little stick to slide the blood red lipstick from hiding, bringing it close to Jimin's plump lips. When the blonde does as told, he gently swipes the crimson color onto the delicate skin of Jimin's lower lip. His cock throbs at how effortlessly it stains his pretty mouth, and he keeps adding more; layer after layer until he's satisfied with the deep, bloody red adorning one of many favorite features of his man.

"You look like a doll already, so pretty.." Jungkook sighs, a mixture of his adoration and sexual frustration building at the sight. But he's patient, and leans back a bit to inspect his work, moving his hold on the smaller man's jaw to rub his thumb over Jimin's lips, staining the pad of his finger in the process.

A moan presses passed Jimin’s pursed pout. All he’s ever wanted since he met the mysterious man is to be everything for him—there, at his feet, living to serve his deepest desires. To give a taste of his commitment to the role, he swipes his pierced tongue over the finger in a slow motion.

“I can see how hard you’re getting, Kookie...” He takes the thumb between his stained lips and circles his tongue around it, releasing with a light pop. “...seeing me like this, dressed in the underwear you chose...” He peers down at the slick thumb and admires the prominent stain—a perfect shade to match the rest of his ensemble. “...bet you’d love to admire every inch of your creation.” Jimin circles his tongue around the digit once more and pulls it into his mouth, humming his pleasure into the photographer’s skin. He brings a hand up to palm his lover’s stiffening length through unbuttoned pants.

"Mm, you know exactly what I like." Jungkook purrs, glancing down for a moment to watch Jimin's delicate hand touch his hard length, now prominent through the fabrics keeping it hidden. His gaze travels back to the model's face. Seeing Jimin's doe eyes look up at him with such submission, admiration... love. It drives the photographer mad with desire.

"There's so much I wanna do to you." He breathes out, his sentence ending with a quiet moan as he bucks up into Jimin's small palm. When his lust takes over, slowly and steadily, his impulses grow more reckless. "Or make you do, for me.." He adds before swiping his thumb over the lipstick once more, dragging the pad of his digit further past the corner of the model's mouth. A stripe smeared in red adorns Jimin's cheek like a small chelsea smile-effect. Jungkook's hand moves back down to wrap behind Jimin's neck, covering his nape with the warmth of his palm as he leans forward to draw his lover in for a messy kiss, aiding in the destruction of the pretty lipstick he'd just applied.

A red mess is created between the two, their lips coated with splashes of the color and the taste of chemicals mixing with their saliva. But Kook doesn't care—instead, he enjoys every second of it, forcing his tongue between Jimin's parted lips to claim his mouth.

"Look at you..." Jungkook murmurs when he pulls back, the thick string of saliva connecting their tongues breaking off when he speaks, watching it fall to stick to Jimin's chin. "Your makeup got ruined, what a shame.." The faux concern in his tone is evident in contrast to the pleased fire in his eyes. He takes the lipstick, grabbing the blonde's jaw a bit harder this time to reapply, not bothering to wipe off the already smeared makeup around the lips. "Baby... Take my dick out while I fix this, I'm aching."

Jimin pants, left breathless from the younger man's kiss. "Mm--ah...okay." His hand resumes gentle strokes over the clothed length, just feeling for a moment while he distracts his mind from his own growing erection. The press of his pink swollen cock head tests the integrity of the lace, making it bulge out noticeably. When his hand slips into Jungkook's pants to pet him bare, he can't bite back the whimpers of need that brush his partner's fingers.

"Y-you really are aching." Jimin's mouth salivates, murmuring the words to avoid messing up Jungkook's artwork. "Fuck...so big, baby." The blonde model uses one hand to tug down his lover's pants and underwear while the other maintains a languid pace over his silken skin. He takes a pause to bring his messy lips close, wetting Jungkook's shaft with an audible spit that dribbles down his chin. He's never been perfect at following instructions when arousal fogs his mind. At this moment, he needs to hear the slick sounds of cock in his hand. He needs to feel the warmth of blood pulsating under his touch, stiffening and dripping for more.

"May I taste you, sir?" He reverts back to his role, asking sweetly, nipping the bottom lip and smudging the lipstick even more. "Please."

“How can I refuse when you ask so sweetly?” Jungkook looks at his creation, already seeing the blonde mess up the lipstick with his spit and nipping of his lips. It both pleased him and annoyed him, but the heavy arousal weighing on him clouds his judgement and makes him more forgiving towards Jimin’s light disobedience. It’s to be expected, and seeing his lips messy and smeared with red while sucking his cock is all the photographer could think of, for now. “If that’s what my baby wants,” he sighs, reaching out to smudge the other end of the corner of the model's mouth, finishing the joker-like smile on his cheeks.

Kook leans back in his seat again, moving his hands to rest on his thighs. Kook’s gaze is focused on Jimin, drinking in every feature, observing every little movement. He zeroes in on his messy lips, and feels a moan scratching at the back of his throat at the sight. He can’t wait to see his lover turn into a broken mess, one step at a time.

“Suck it deeply.. take all of it. No teasing.”

To test the waters, Jimin gives a light swipe along the bottom of Jungkook's shaft, drawing his pink muscle up to the tip and swirling it around the leaking slit in tight circles.

"Mm, uhm—ahh..." Jimin becomes vocal, humming around the thick length as he pops it in and out of his plump lips, watching it twitch with delight each time he strips Jungkook of his building pleasure. Jungkook said not to tease, but the pretty little blonde craves to feel each shudder of arousal. Each touch from him is live-wired to the younger man, and Jimin feels powerful by causing it to happen. Plus, as an added perk, he knows the slow and drawn-out pace will cause more trouble for him in the long-run. And...what's life without a little pain? He anticipates it. He knows, as nicely as he's dressed, his partner can easily turn him into a crying mess without any regard for the flashy fine clothing. No amount of silk and lace can conceal his inner need to be lovingly destroyed.

With a lasting swipe of his hot tongue across the ridge of Jungkook's tip, Jimin pops it into between his rouge lips, already smearing a bit of the lipstick over the smooth skin. He bobs his head to wet the throbbing cock, spilling his saliva down the length of it with little to no regard for the mess it creates. He knows, better than anyone, the messier he is, the better.

"Ah, mmh—I told you, no teasing..." Jungkook huffs with furrowed brows, focused on how well Jimin takes his girthy length all the way, dragging his tongue against the smooth skin, watching himself get covered in saliva and faint marks of the lipstick.

"Always making it difficult for me, looking so sweet and innocent..." Jungkook licks his lips at the sight of the elder's messy mouth, makeup smearing past his lips and drooling down his chin onto his length. He's sucked the photographer's cock countless times, so he knows exactly how to do it, and his gag reflex had become close to nonexistent. But, that doesn't mean it's not there, one just has to use a bit of force. "But you're anything but innocent, aren't you? Sucking me off like a cockhungry whore." The photographer bites back a moan, unable to keep his hands off of Jimin for too long before he's already weaving his fingers through his lover's blonde curls to get a good grip. He's gentle at first, just feeling the motion of Jimin's head bob up and down his length, wet sounds and whiny, muffled moans filling the room as no other sound is audible inside the isolated space.

"So be it. If you want my cock that badly, then keep sucking." Jungkook tugs at Jimin's hair, forcing his head to move harder and faster. His generous length makes space in the model's delicate throat, forcing the continuous pool of drool to seep from Jimin's mouth to add to the mess, not allowing him to get off to breathe except from his nose.

Jimin crosses his ankles and rests his bare butt on top of the heels. They clack together as he bends forward and bobs his head steadily, opening up his throat to feel Jungkook's wet tip guide the way. Inch by fleshy inch, his lover's cock fills the space within him. It causes his own cock to peek out of the slim red lace and poke Jimin's abdomen as he bends deep. The blonde swallows around Jungkook's fat cock and holds still, warming it as deep as he can possibly bear, forcing himself to wait until he feels lightheaded.

When his lungs burn for breath, he withdraws slowly, tonguing the prominent veins that bulge along his lover's shaft. "Mmf...g-ah—ack!" He chokes on the last couple inches and holds his small palms in the inner curve of Jungkook's thighs for balance. "...Mine. All mine...tastes so yummy," he emphasizes, swiping a bead of precum directly from the leaking slit. Lost in his own little world, feeling pretty yet needy for friction, he wraps a hand around the shaft and strokes it up and down quickly.

" I-I'm your whore, sir." He looks the part—plump lips and cheeks stained with red, stringing long strands of his spit to the younger's twitching head. To the outside world, he's nothing but the most well-kept, straight-laced individual. Here? He lets go entirely, making his body available for use without a care of how someone else perceives him. The only opinion that matters is the man before him.

Jimin looks down and notices a strap of his bralette had fallen down, only matching his role of sultry temptress...quickly morphing to messy slut. He purposefully lets the other strap fall, looking up at Jungkook with beckoning lashes.

"Am I doing well?"

"Mm.. Could do better." Jungkook lies, towering over Jimin's small frame on the floor. His long, raven curls fall forward, framing his sharp features. Being in this position, seeing everything from above, makes him feel so utterly powerful. And Jimin's big, glossy eyes meeting his own only adds to the fire that awakens every single hormone in his body.

In reality, Jimin is doing well. In fact, he's doing an amazing job at driving the photographer mad. His cock twitches delightfully in the model's hands, his abdomen tightening in excitement and heart fluttering beneath his heaving ribcage.

"A job well done isn't without your pretty tears, baby." Jungkook says softly, taking deep breaths to keep his voice from wavering too much in pleasure. He strokes his fingers through his lover's bright, silky curls, coaxing him to take him back into his mouth. "Choke on it, but don't make me cum... Just enough to make your eyes sparkle for me."

Jimin chokes on nothing but a quick gasp. "O-of course." He shrinks under Jungkook's commanding gaze and rubs his thighs together, wishing he had permission to adjust his now fully erect cock. To solidify his subservience, on top of his now glassy eyes, he takes another step and clasps his hands behind his back. No ties or cuffs are necessary, although he'd enjoy being bound tight and abused for being a tease—it was the plan all along.

"I love you," he whispers, swallowing down a fresh wave of emotion and looking up to let Jungkook admire the first tear roll down his cheek. The wet droplet catches the makeup and slips off his chin to seep into his bright red lingerie. Jimin holds eye contact and sticks out his tongue, showing off the pretty piece of jewelry at the center, right where Jungkook placed it nearly a year ago. He gives a couple testing kitten licks, then hovers his pout over the tip, plunging the full length down his throat without a testing suck. No more teasing, he tells himself, gagging around the fat cock.

Just as Jungkook demanded, Jimin strips himself of breath until he's crying for relief. Hands still clasped tight and out of the way, he's given himself no way of escape, showing his true resilience and commitment to the task he's given.

“Oh, my Jimin..” Jungkook sighs in pleasure, watching how his hefty length disappears into the welcoming warmth of his lover's throat. The flesh contracts around him when the model gags, squeezing tightly to draw more low moans and grunts from the photographer. “You’re doing so well now.” He praises, brushing his thumb beneath Jimin’s eye to catch a few tears. He’s convinced that although there’s a million types of makeup to make one look perfect, Jimin looks his prettiest when his skin is glowing from the shine of his tears. The way his submissive stare from below is sparkling like little stars, just for Jeon Jungkook. The way Jimin will endure anything to please.

“Nobody is prettier than you.” Jungkook bites his lower lip at the sight below, and grows impatient. He keeps a tight grip on his lover's hair, cock deeply buried in his throat while he stands up from his seat. “Nobody could ever compare to you, butterfly.” He hisses, feeling the heat of his words creep onto his cheeks while meeting the elders glossy eyes. He withdraws his hips slowly, only to thrust forward and lodge the head of his jeweled cock as deep as possible. He sighs, lip quivering at his lover's compliance. It’s too exciting, his body is practically shaking with itching, aggressive longing to destroy Jimin further. Patience, he reminds himself. It is their special night, so he wants to ensure Jimin feels like the most desired human in the universe.

The warming praise gives Jimin the courage he needs to slide his lips up the rigid length, gliding his wet ribbed tongue in gentle sweeps. His throat burns from the intrusion, yet, it's a familiar sensation and it does very little to detract him from bobbing his head and building up the photographer until he's at his brink. Slick, slobbery sucks and the occasional gag and gasp for breath becomes the playlist of their evening. Even the model becomes affected by his own desperate sounds. He wiggles his plump butt in a subtle motion to take his attention off the desire pulsing in his veins. He sucks and tongues, staring up at Jungkook until his vision blurs with a wave of new tears. Jimin rests back on his heels to catch his breath, letting the throbbing cock flop out of his mouth and into his hand, holding it firm and continuing to bring his lover close to the edge without immediate relief.

"Fuck me." The second the words leave his swollen lipstick-smeared lips is the moment he cracks, just a little. Hot tears fall down Jimin's cheeks--hand stroking the soaked length until he's trembling to be touched. "I n-need you, Kookie."

Within what seems like a split second, Jungkook dropped to his knees on the floor in front of Jimin; framing his small face in his large palms to draw him in for a messy kiss. He can taste everything-- the mixture of lipstick and saliva, sullied with the taste of his own cock lingering on the model's tongue. But the highlight of it all is the salty topping of Jimin's tears, a clear result of his effort and submission that he worked himself so hard that his body rejected it-- and yet endured to fulfill the photographer's desires.

"Haah, you need me?" Jungkook chuckles when he pulls back from the heated kiss, lingering close to softly press his lips over Jimin's damp cheeks. His own are stained with a faint red, transferred from the elder's pillowy ones.

"Sure you're not tired of this cock?" He smiles as he continues to kiss away Jimin's tears, tongue poking out to lick his cheek as his hot breath fans his face. While he does so, his hands let go of Jimin's face to smooth down his slender form, snaking behind his back until they settle on his ass, mercilessly squeezing the flesh between his fingers. "After you got a taste of Joonie, maybe I won't be enough?" Jungkook's wolfish smile doesn't falter, knowing this will tug at his lover's heartstrings. His kisses travel south, leaving red sucks and bites to blossom on the model's fair skin in it's path down to find a spot by his collarbone where he sucks harshly, certain that it'll leave a possessive mark behind.

"Joonie?" The tears on Jimin's cheeks glisten under the studio lights. His quivering bottom lip juts out in a pout as he naturally leans into the breath of Jungkook's suckles. The hot, tongued, needy markings become painful. Jimin huffs out a low moan. "Hyung was big...but he doesn't taste like you...fuck--" He takes Jungkook's face between his hands and returns the kiss, mashing their lips together messily, parting his mouth and giving him a longing taste of what he desires most. The model draws back slowly, making sure thin strands of their combined saliva string between their tongues, obvious for his lover to admire.

"You're more than enough..." Jimin whispers, letting a hand drop back to Jungkook's swollen cock, still dripping wet with his spit and precum. "I only beg for you, baby. I only want you...playing with me...fucking me...using me until I c-cry." He scoots forward and lets the length drop from his hand, then lifts his knees to straddle the photographer's lap on the floor. While the move may be a little too desperate, he doesn't have a single shred of care in his small body. He aches to feel his love's large hands tug at the lingerie, to feel the way his dripping cock strains against the material, and how it hugs his tense thighs. More than anything, he wants to rock his plump cheeks over Jungkook's shaft, until he's shaking to rip off every bit of red satin and lace from his skin. Jimin pleas in a cracked voice. "Will you make me cry, Kookie?"

"How can you say it so sweetly, as if you aren't crying already..." Jungkook admires the disheveled man before him, lips swollen and messy with smeared makeup. The loose bands of the bralette hang down Jimin's small biceps, adding to the vision in the photographer's mind. "You know how I love it when you beg like this." The younger's strained voice breaks into a low, needy growl when aggression fuels his sadistic desires to go further. Jimin knows this is just one of his ways to show his affection, this is how he's always been, and will continue to always be. Jungkook's greedy hands knead at the flesh of Jimin's ass, nails scraping the fabrics of the lingerie, tugging so harshly that it struggles to not break in his grasp. He spreads the model's ass, keeping the lingerie in the way of his tight entrance as his rigid length rubs against it.

"I don't want you to cry..." Jungkook presses Jimin's ass down, rubbing his cock between the soft cheeks of the model's ass. He looks at his face, never wavering the intense eye contact he initiates while one hand withdraws from it's hold to scavenge the floor next to him, grabbing the opened lipstick. He leans forward, one arm snaking around Jimin's small waist to keep him in place, thick length snugly pressed beneath the blonde's weight while the other hand resumes to add another layer of lipstick, fixing the mess without cleaning up what's been smeared. "I want you to scream so loud that you cannot make a single sound," He smiles, pressing the lipstick harder against his lips, adding a second layer, watching the product crumble a little. "I want you to choke on your own cries, because you can't think of anything else but me."

One last swipe, and Jungkook moves on to draw a little heart in the middle of Jimin's chest, filling it in meticulously. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek in focus, before he finishes and looks back up at the elder. "Now..." He sighs, feeling the painful aching when his cock throbs against the damp lingerie separating himself from being inside of Jimin. He nudges his chin in the direction behind him towards the armchair. "Get up."

The soft pink curve of Jungkook’s lips tempts Jimin to lean in and sully his fair skin with the clumpy lipstick. But he refrains, because he trusts the vision of his photographer—always. He looks like sin—dressed as an upscale whore, made a hot mess by the various layers of makeup applied between spit-slicked kisses and mouth fucking. He would have never chosen this look for himself, and that’s part of the thrill. It’s fresh and exciting, knowing only he can fulfill this erotic vision; being the only muse fit for the occasion, or any other.

“Yes, sir.” Jimin stands to his feet, a little wobbly as he adjusts to the height of the heels. The chair feels miles away the farther the small model steps away from his partner. Yet, the mystery of what could come next makes his heart thunder in his chest. He rubs his lips together to smooth the luxe lipstick, rubbing beyond his natural lines to make his pillowy plush pout look even fuller. Jimin sits on the chair, prim and proper with his legs crossed, pointing the tip of a slim heel in Jungkook’s direction.

“How would you like me?” He asks innocently in a sweet tone, as if he isn’t dressed in women’s lingerie, practically dripping with precum, hard cock straining against the lace.

“Like that, just like that...'' Jungkook stares up from his position on the floor, crawling forward on all fours like a predator slowly approaching it's prey. A new spark of various emotions swirl in his gaze, ranging from admiration and affection-- drowning in the crazed hunger that seeps through his blown out pupils. Having the Park Jimin looking like a hot mess made his cock stir painfully as he tucked himself back in his underwear, leaving the pants undone. It wasn't his turn yet, and as they both know-- the reward of patience will be immensely satisfying.

"Can you imagine if anybody else saw you like this? Every media source would explode, the internet would be on fire." Jungkook sighs dreamily from the mere thought of it. What makes it so good, is the fact that he remains the only person... Well, out of two, in the world to see the famous model and designer turn into a submissive plaything. "You'd lose everything... And for what? To please me?" Jungkook shakes his head, chuckling in a mocking manner as if it's unbelievable that Jimin would go such daring lengths of risking everything, time and time again, just to keep Jeon Jungkook happy.

Just to be his whore.

"And that is why I love you... You know exactly how I like you." The photographer says softly. His gaze drinks up the view above him, from Jimin's messy pout, down his clammy, heaving chest, to his crossed thighs hiding the pretty little cock that is most definitely screaming for relief.

"A needy whore. A compliant whore." Jungkook murmurs to himself when his gaze finds the heel pointing at him. His hands greedily reach out to grab Jimin's delicate ankle, kissing and biting at the stockings covering his soft skin. His free hand grabs the shoe, slowly sliding it off to place it on the floor with unexpected care. He looks up at the blonde again, his dark stare softening at the small gasps continuously pushing past Jimin's swollen lips. Kook kisses travel further down, his own breaths becoming heavy and shaky at how feminine Jimin's small foot looks, covered with the see through fabrics, holding it in his hand like it's the most precious thing he's ever seen.

"A doll." He smiles, closing his eyes when he indulges, flattening his tongue to lick a long, slow, stripe from Jimin's heel to his toe.

“S-shit...” The wet pink muscle tickles Jimin’s sensitive arch, but the pressure of it makes it more enjoyable than he anticipated. Every square inch of his body has been worshipped, marked, pleasured, pained, and all the rest of it—every sensation imaginable, Jungkook has inflicted it with purpose. Even as he pleases his own carnal impulses, he dangles new kinks in the model’s face, tempting him to grasp them tight.

“What are you—“ He knew the second he slipped on those tantalizing stilettos that there was a greater plan in store. The dagger-sharp, pointed heels could easily be used as weapons. After a year with Jungkook, he’s learned how much weaponry and danger makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Jimin moans delicately.

“Do you like my feet, puppy?” The glide of Jungkook’s tongue can be felt through the sheer fabric, seeping the moisture of his spit down to the skin. “Want to taste more?” Sitting on his makeshift throne makes him feel power and strength. He’s well aware that in a heartbeat he can be rag-dolled in any position the younger man desires, but he’s placed in a position of command with his partner at his feet. So he lifts his other foot off the floor and places the sharp point of his shoe onto Jungkook’s thigh, digging it into the muscle just a bit. “Tear the stockings, please.” Jimin’s voice shakes. “R-ruin them. Take it off, with your teeth.”

Jungkook's grasp around Jimin's ankle tightens when he feels the pointy heel dig into his thigh, drawing a low moan from deep within his chest. He gazes up at Jimin through his dark lashes, crooking an eyebrow.

"What was that?" his wicked smile is hiding behind Jimin's foot, which he kisses the sole of between his words. "I thought I heard the doll speak, I must be mad..." Jungkook purposely put Jimin in this position, knowing exactly how it'd make him feel to see the photographer on his knees. The bratty side to the model always knew how to spur-- or in this case, literally step on his nerves to get what he wants. It all serves to the buildup of a bigger purpose; the more riled up Jungkook becomes, the harder Jimin gets fucked. And he knows it too well. Just how long it'll take before he gets what he wants, is the big question.

He looks up at his hot mess of a lover again, saying nothing as he silently obeys his wish when he bites down on the fabrics, carelessly dragging his teeth against the fair skin as he does so. He pulls back, ripping the expensive material off like a kid that's too excited on Christmas to care about whether the wrapping paper is torn to shreds. He nips at the broken fabrics, slowly sliding it off from his lower leg and down to slip it off his foot, audibly spitting it out from his mouth to lunge back in. His hands withdraw to settle on the other leg, still covered and dressed with the heel that so deliciously stings into his muscular thigh. He strokes it gently, so carefully it must tickle more than anything, while wrapping his plush, lipstick stained lips around Jimin's toe, sucking and tonguing it shamelessly with low hums in satisfaction and hot breaths through his nose.

It is overwhelming to even think about the erotic visuals he's capturing on camera, so much that his cheeks flush with heat, and his thick bulge twitches with every little stroke of his tongue that snakes around and in-between the model's petite toes.

"Gah--fucking...shit--ah!" Jimin chokes on a whine as his first digit slips into Jungkook's hot mouth. Each delicate nerve ending sparks to life and ripples tingly pleasurable goosebumps up his legs. He clamps his thighs shut and adjusts the heel, scraping into the fabric of his pants, testing the limit of Jungkook's flesh. Mind over matter, the small male wriggles his butt in his seat, internally battling the conflicting tickly sensations vs his overbearing arousal. With just a single toe suckled between his favorite pair of messy lips, his mind numbs and his limbs tense to claw for leverage. Feeling this, and seeing it happen--admiring the way Jungkook's long lashes close gently as he indulges in the moment. Jimin grips the chair arms in both hands and tears his sharp nails into the upholstery. Jimin mewls, straining to keep quiet, allowing his partner to focus on his indulgence.

“Mm--ah, ah, god..." He closes his eyes and simply feels the movement of the wet muscle, licking between his toes, around them, sucking them into his mouth, until they're glistening in his saliva. "M-more--more..." he whispers, slapping a hand over his begging lips. He broke the stocking, slid it off of him with his teeth without any regard to the price or quality of the fabric. No moment of hesitation to argue against the command or counter with something more enjoyable for both of them. Spoiled, is the word Jimin thinks of...he's pampered in this position, given exactly what he needs, like a prized porcelain doll.

"M-mooore," he whines from behind his hand, biting hard into the soft skin between his pointer finger and thumb, muffling the garbled sounds and using pressure to distract. His eyes seek the recording camera before letting a tear slide down his ruddy cheek, swiping his small tongue over his rouge pout and swallowing hard. "Baby, f-feels--mmf...so good. Looks so pretty..."

With a wet pop, Jungkook withdraws his lips from Jimin's cleaned up toes. His eyes open slowly as he does so, looking up at the overwhelmed man above, shaking with his arousal and inner battle to stay still and receiving the reward. Who the reward is for remains a mystery.

"So greedy... Didn't know you loved having your filthy toes sucked so much." He hums, glancing down at the wet patch of precum staining his underwear, a clear result of just how much he enjoys it as well. "What else do you want?"

Jungkook doesn't look at Jimin while asking, but keeps his attention on the slender legs in front of him. He grabs the model's ankle, uncrossing his legs to spread them wide, scuffing closer between to where he can access and lean his cheek against Jimin's inner thigh, so close but so far away from the aching, pretty cock that's barely covered by the soft lace.

"You're really digging that heel into my leg, baby... Ouch..." He sighs, feeling his length throb with every movement that twists the heel into his flesh. He purposely chose sharp heels, feeling his mixture of bad temper, impatience and lust fill him with every hot breath pushing past his lips. He snakes a hand down between his legs, slipping past the waistband of his boxers to squeeze his cock tightly, staring up at Jimin with doe puppy eyes, rubbing his cheek against the clammy skin of the blonde's thigh. "It hurts, hmm.. Ah.." He closes his eyes again, kissing the skin softly, seemingly gentle-- until his lips curl into a small smile, parting his teeth only to bite down on Jimin's flesh, leaving a possessive mark behind.

Jimin's nails tear away from the upholstery and grasp Jungkook by the roots.

"Sss--ow, fuuck." The fresh mark lays very close to the tattoo on his thigh, still brilliantly colorful with dark shading, like he got it weeks prior. A bruise begins to bloom between the embedded dips where Jungkook's teeth sunk in. It's hot and tender and ignites the rest of his skin to an even coat of blush. Without noticing, Jimin drags his heel down gradually, brought to attention when it clacks onto the floor in front of Jungkook's knelt frame...Tempting…

"Oh, baby. It hurts, huh?" Jimin coos as his fingers naturally soothe the sensitive skin of his lover's scalp. He notices a new hole in Jungkook's pants where his heel punctured through, straight down to the skin. On the fine tip of the heel is a subtle patch of blood where he scraped a little too roughly. "Poor puppy..."

It's a rare occasion to have the photographer in such a submissive state, but he seems to enjoy it more and more once Jimin inflicts a little pain. So that's exactly what the model does, to give back the pleasure and revel in the pristine imagery of his lover on bent knees to please. "Lick it," Jimin says in a quiet voice, bringing his heel to his partner's lips. He clears his throat and states it again, louder and with confidence, wrapping his other leg over Jungkook's shoulder and pulling him closer to the sharp point. "Just like you did my toes, clean this pretty heel."

"Mm? That's what you want..." Jungkook squeezes his cock tighter, blocking the blood flow until he feels his pulse thunder through the swollen tip. He tilts his head to the side slightly, giving Jimin a good view of the way he leans in and opens his mouth wide. His tongue snakes around the sharp heel, scooping up the droplet of his own blood to coat his wet muscle in a thin layer of red. His raised eyebrows serve as a silent question of whether or not he is doing it right... And by the way Jimin's big eyes are quivering as they meet his own, he's more than certain of the answer.

Jungkook hums lowly, a deep moan caught in his throat when he tugs the waistband down to set his cock free from hiding once more, openly massaging his slick length to the way he keeps licking the heel, from the sharpness to the sole, a flattened tongue dragging up like a dog lapping up their favorite meal.

"That's g-good...so good." Any mortal man would go cross eyed from the sinful sight. Jimin is made tougher than most, strong from being with Jungkook, but he's easily bent and broken from the simplest sights. Anything from the younger man melts the model's mind to horny mush--trying on a new pair of Versace shades, or hitting a high score on Overwatch, or sloppily sipping a bananamilk until the container runs dry. This visual, however...is quite complex. The blonde sweats lightly, swallowing tight and combing his fingers through Jungkook's shaggy raven locks, getting lost in the action. He isn't even directly touched, and yet, he feels electric shock waves of pleasure from simply watching Jungkook thumb over his dripping cock head and lap the razor sharp edge of his stiletto.

"Keep touching yourself," he whimpers, gaze hungrily following the younger man's slippery pink tongue slide over the last unsullied strip of heel. "A-and...gah...don't cum." Jimin wrenches his eyes shut and moves his other hand down to touch himself too. His hand grips his needy length tight through the sheer fabric and he bucks upward to chase the friction. In the process, he jolts the heel between his love's lips and gives the plump bottom pout a swift cut. "Shit, puppy, I-I'm..."

Jungkook grunts, flinching slightly from the unexpected. He looks down, seeing as blood drips from his lip to the floor into a growing puddle, deep enough to give a burning sensation in his delicate skin. Deep enough to fuel his various emotions..

"You got too greedy." He mumbles, not bothering to wipe it off as it creates a red string of liquid running down his chin when he looks up at Jimin. His doe eyes fade into the familiar dark stare that the model knows too well. Jungkook could only hold his faux submission for so long, his generosity for the night of giving Jimin the sense of power running out quickly.

"But you just can't control yourself, can you?" Jungkook gets up on his feet, placing his hands on the armrests while towering close over Jimin, face inches away from the mess of a man. "What am I gonna do with such a slut... Getting so excited you can't even sit still in a fuckin' chair." He hisses, swiping up the blood on his lip with his tongue, mixing it with his spit. He grabs Jimin's jaw tightly, forcing his mouth open, tilting his little head back while he hovers over him. "Guess you'll just have to reap what you sow, little whore." He murmurs against Jimin's lips before he parts his own, letting the bloody mixture of his saliva drip into Jimin's lips, seeping into his mouth. He keeps a tight grip on the model, not letting him move or reject the offer the photographer gives him. Kook shimmies out of his pants while he does so, slowly climbing on top to straddle Jimin's lap, caging his small frame onto the chair.

The model nods rapidly, brushing the bloody mixture between their painted lips.

"I'll take it all." A string of Jungkook's red saliva trails between their parted mouths as Jimin arches up and steals a couple desperate kisses. "Anything you want to do t-to me." Whether he believes his own words or not is a big mystery. When he says anything, he forgets just how unpredictable and harsh his love can be when provoked. But in the moment, it feels right, especially when the heat of Jungkook's bare cock is felt so close to where he wants it most.

Jimin reaches his arms around Jungkook's torso, feels the muscles of his back tense and release while he finds his footing. He breathes in through his nose to smell the gentle cologne and musk of the photographer, and the very faint but nostalgic and calming scent of his shampoo. Jimin flicks out his tongue and tastes the rust that lingers atop the lipstick, closes his teary eyes to center himself before the pain takes hold. Perhaps there will be humiliation, or both, simultaneously.

"Anything, huh..." Jungkook looks at Jimin through mischievous eyes. His cock lays heavy against the model's clammy stomach, twitching at the new idea running through his mind. Normally, this is not something he would desire.. But this is a special occasion, and the action would fit the punishment and sate the unusual urges coaxing him to do what he does next. Jungkook leans in to kiss Jimin, keeping one palm on his lover's messy cheek. Jimin's lipstick moistens up, once again staining the photographer's mouth in their hot kiss-- a distraction from the way his other hand snakes behind him when he lifts his hips up, grabbing the elder's aching cock. He doesn't do much to prepare more than spread the slick precum along Jimin's length before guiding the swollen tip to his ass, stopping when he slowly sinks down on it until just the head slips in, drawing a hot gasp to push past his lips.

"Do not move." Jungkook whispers, kissing down the blonde's jaw to his neck, taking a few deep breaths as he sinks down further until Jimin's entire length is buried inside. Kook stays still for merely seconds, not allowing himself to adjust properly before he heaves himself up halfway, only to fall back down. The sound of his plump ass flattening against Jimin's thighs mixes in with the quiet grunts in pain and pleasure coming from him. It isn't his favorite thing to do-- preferably on the giving end, but that doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy feeling Jimin writhe beneath him in various ways. Supposedly, Jungkook remains on the giving end, whether it's his cock or his ass that is the gift.

"Mmh, 's tight... Right?" He settles his hands on Jimin's chest, tilting his head to the side as he sits up straight to watch the man below from his higher view. His hips show less mercy as he gets used to it, finding a slow rhythm, "And your cock isn't even that big..." he shakes his head, feeling the heat on his cheeks in the form of a lustful blush when he finds an angle that brushes his prostate, grinding his ass down to chase that feeling over and over. "Just shows how much of a cockwhore you are for being able to take one as big as mine, ah shit.."

Jimin's sweaty palms clamor over Jungkook's back and move down to grip him hard at the hips. His eyes roll to the back of his head as his small body is engulfed by lean muscle and a hot grip around his cock. "Kookie, you--" This is the last thing he expected to happen--watching helplessly and breathing labored breaths as Jungkook's taut rim rides him rough. The sensation is more than expected, and much more than he remembers. "I can't, baby, it's too...much--fuck--" Nails pierce slicked skin as Jimin thrusts up to chase the hot clenching hole. Each time Jungkook pulls up, he whimpers at the loss and uses his wavering strength to pull him back down with an audible smack. The weight of the photographer is much more than he can bear, but he digs his heel into the ground to hold what little balance he has left, so hard he's sure the pin-point could snap at any moment. "So tight...around my cock...hahhh." Jimin's breaths grow weaker and thinner, gradually winded from the smack, smacking against his reddened thighs. "I--I--" He bites onto Jungkook's arm to hold steady, watching the room wobble in his peripherals. "Might c-cum in--gah!"

"Hah... I t-told you not to move." Jungkook's shaky, strained voice came out as a hiss between breathy gasps every time his ass collided with Jimin's firm thighs. Jimin's series of disobedient actions didn't bother Jungkook as much as they normally would, as this is a special occasion after all-- especially when he willingly put himself in a faux submissive state just to allow Jimin to indulge in a different way for the night. "Now you'll have to deal w-with, iiit-- fuck.." He clenches Jimin's hard cock tight when the latter bites onto his arm, the rush of the pain making him fuck himself rougher on top of the model. "Now you started it, so fuck me harde-er! Don't stop.." Jungkook growls lowly, shamelessly moaning and watching his own cock rub and drool against Jimin's stomach. With one hand firmly on Jimin's chest, the other smoothes up his neck to wrap around it, applying just enough pressure to put his lover in a deeper haze, ensuring that although he's not sure whether or not he's allowed to cum inside, he will have no other choice but to do so-- Jungkook wants him to lose any self control, and fill him up with shame and fear in his eyes of doing something he wasn't permitted to.

The straps of Jimin's bralette slaps off his shoulders once again, the small cups of it sliding around his chest the more his bouncing partner rubs against it. The momentum and chafe of the fabric teases his sensitive buds and makes them stiff, red, and swollen. So he lets the rest of the fabric fall down his body until his chest is bare, dewy with sweat. "Yes--hah ahh...s-sir." His own confirmation tapers to a pathetic whine as his breath weakens. Jungkook's grasp pins him by the neck, into the chair. The only freedom he's granted is the weak thrust of his hips to fuck the younger man from below, which he does to the best of his ability, growing weaker by the second. He won't stop, even if it means he blacks out from exertion, which feels closer than he likes to admit. Jimin pants heavily and digs in his fingertips. "I'll fill up this p-pretty hole." He speaks with delirious lust lacing his tone, just the way he would want to hear it. "Is that what you want, baby? Fuck, you're so t-tight--ahh! Can't wait..."

Jungkook leans in closer, slowing down his harsh thrusts only to replace them with slow, deep grinding. He licks his bloody lower lip, nodding while staring down at Jimin's heavy, zoned out gaze. He's losing it completely, and yet he tries too hard to please and do as told, and it warms the photographer's heart-- and it makes his cock leak profusely with the immense need to cum. So, therefore, he needs Jimin to break so he can finally give back what he's been holding for what feels like hours. "Yeah, fill me up well baby. Cum in me as deep as you possibly fuckin' can." The younger says with his low, lustful tone, still keeping his hold on Jimin's throat without loosening or tightening it. He inches closer to kiss his face, hot breaths huffing to warm his lover's skin with every grunt and moan that leaves his lips when he feels Jimin's hard cock prodding at his prostate with every fluid motion of his hips. "Cum," Jungkook repeats, deliberately clenching down on Jimin's cock, licking his cheek possessively, "Claim me with your filthy cum."

"Anything you want--ah!" Jimin's eyes screw shut as he rocks his thrusts up into Jungkook's wanting hole. "Feel my cock dragging in and out? Feel how n-needy I am to spill every fucking drop inside you?" His mind truly turns to mush, like a fever dream, losing any semblance of here and now. Only indulging in the very millisecond in which his body trembles to feel everything, all at once. "It's all for you, baby." He pontificates his oath with a harsh thrust from below, scraping his nails until the tender flesh of Jungkook's sides, drawing blood in his wake. "Fuck my cock...bounce on i-it...gahh!" The model becomes a shell of himself, as if he's boneless, thrusting his release in labored spurts, into his young love. "Moan for me, Kookie. Tear at this expensive lingerie and tell me I'm the prettiest man that's ever fucked you raw."

Jimin’s sudden and harsh words takes Jungkook by surprise— he expected the elder to fall apart one way of the other when he came inside, but what he didn’t expect was the spark of dominance that laced his voice and transferred to the way he clawed at the youngers skin. “F-fuck, ah— ow, mmhm...” Jungkook bites back his moans, to no avail when his sides are tortured by the models sharp nails, unable to hold back his pathetic whines when he feels his insides become filled with filthy, thick gushes of warm cum. “God, Jimin— J-Jimin, it hurts...” He gasps, letting himself and allowing a glimpse of actual submission to shine through his shivering body. His hands don’t know where to be, so he does as told and grabs the bralette in his fist and tugs, using his strength that’s spurred by pain to rip it off his lovers chest, while the other hand keeps him steady by grasping into the backrest of the chair. “Shit, I didn’t know you could say such things... that’s so hot, baby.” Jungkook huffs when he gathers himself slowly, unmoving while Jimin’s cock pulsates inside of him. He sighs and whines from the painful stretch of taking it without preparation, overestimating himself and yet relishing in the uncomfortable feeling. Jungkook glanced down at his bloody waist when he lifts himself from Jimin’s lap to let the latters length slip out, a splurt of cum seeping out with it. He hums in both delight and disgust, not used to the feeling of being on the receiving end..

“You did well baby.” Jungkook reaches behind him, catching a generous amount of Jimin’s cum to coat two of his fingers before bringing it to his mouth, licking it clean for the elder to see. The coy mischief returns to his gaze, leaning close to press his swollen length against Jimin’s stomach to let him know playtime’s far from over. “My turn. You good?” He places a kiss on Jimin’s scorching lips. “I can fuck you harder than that. Show you how it’s done..”

The photographer's proposition snaps Jimin back into the moment--eyes wide and dark, needing to feel exactly what he's inadvertently promised. As if the mere mention of fucking his needy hole is enough to make the blonde bend in any which way necessary to prove Jungkook's point. "Prove it," Jimin goads, unaware of the power that laces his tone. "I'm tired of being your porcelain doll...make me your filthy whore." The model wriggles from underneath the photographer until he's free from his caging clutch. Once he's able to maneuver solo, he flips himself over and juts out his plump ass, resting his ruddy cheek against the upholstery of the chair.

“Huh... maybe I spoiled you too much.” Jungkook drinks in the view below, standing up on his feet to properly watch the way Jimin arches his back to offer his body willingly— or rather, demanding his body be used like a disposable toy. A shiver ran down his spine as he replayed Jimin’s words over and over. A challenge, that he knows the model is aware that he can beat without even thinking. He must be so lonely, that the mere thought of having his unused hole filled drives him mad with need, and the temporary dominance got to his head. Kook likes it, the power in Jimin’s voice that is so rare when they’re alone.. but more than present when he is working. It’s like he brought home his persona of professionalism, and now Jungkook would get to corrupt this mask as well.

“I’ll make my pretty doll into the filthiest and prettiest of whores. I’m sure of it.” He murmurs while he reaches behind him to slowly drag his fingers in and out of himself, gathering the remainder of Jimin’s release onto his digits. He spreads his lover's cheek to get a good look of his tight rim, pink and unused like a virgin anew. Kook licks his lip, feeling the hardened texture of the dried cut on the skin. He brings his slicked fingers to Jimin’s ass, giving him little to no warnings before slipping his two digits inside, knuckle deep. “I’m just giving it back. It came from your filthy, whorish body.. but you don’t mind. This is where cum really belongs.” He says, loving the sound of his own voice a bit too much. He loves the way Jimin’s hole clamps down on his fingers as he speaks, and the way his hole becomes wet and slick, coating his fingers more and more with his juices with every in and out drag. He curls the pads of his fingers slightly, finding that one spot that he knows drives Jimin mad— especially if the abuser of it is his hefty cock.

"Mm--g-god. Please, yes." The model looks over his shoulder to provoke Jungkook to give him more. This is just the way it needs to be to provoke--to find that spot again, plumping up his full lips with a whiny pout. "Put my cum where it belongs, please, baby." Jimin presses his hips back to match the thrusts, wrenching his eyes shut to chase the high, feeling even hotter knowing the reason his tender hole is stretched so easily is because of his own cum. He rides Jungkook's fingers, nipping his lip and beckoning him closer with small kisses, placed anywhere he can reach. Through it all, he makes sure his back remains arched so his glistening pink entrance is visible. He knows how his partner salivates at the clear sight of his fingers disappearing and reappearing, hugged by his tightening rim, hearing how needy his butterfly is for his touch. "Finger out every bit and put it inside." The messy tear-streaked blonde spreads his legs wider on the chair, leaving as much room as possible for Jungkook to fit. "T-then fuck me full of more."

"I would've asked you to beg for it, but you're already so good at that.. You really are perfect." Jungkook makes his point with a particularly deep thrust with his double digits, twisting and scissoring to ensure that his lover is comfortably gonna be able to take something much bigger than his mere fingers. "Looks like your cum is the perfect lubricant, just feel how easily I got your pretty ass gaping for cock." Jungkook groans audibly to show how much he likes the view when he withdraws his slick fingers, wiping them clean on Jimin's clothed thigh, staining it with cum. "Can't wait for you to see it how I see it. It's so hot, so cute." He adds, spreading Jimin's cheeks with his thumbs before tugging at his hips, bringing him closer to let his heavy cock rest between, gathering the slick. He slowly drags his length up and down, prodding tastefully at Jimin's eager entrance before finally giving in, sinking the swollen head of his cock inside, followed with a quiet gasp from the photographer.

"Shit, even after all of this, you're still so tight..." Jungkook digs his nails into Jimin's hips, grabbing a fistful of the thong into his hands to tug him down to take more of his length inside, pushing past the thickest part of his girth. He watches the way the elder's pink rim is stretched past it's limit and then some, the sweet pink slowly morphing into a blushed red. "Your body drives me mad, baby. Almost lookin' like a woman with these on." He crumples the material in his hand, tightening the fabrics so that it presses against Jimin's spent cock. He gives an experimental thrust forward, and decides to give little time to adjust before he begins to roll his hips forward, slowly but steadily. He will break his butterfly, and making him cum a second time would be the perfect reward.

Pressure builds rapidly in Jimin's abdomen, causing his muscles to twitch and spasm. His walls clench down on Jungkook as he presses in deep, practically forcing his way in, claiming the space he's worked hard to make. Jimin can still feel the phantom stretch of the photographer's fingers as it's quickly replaced with thick, vascular cock. It's almost painful, which is a new sensation for the willing blonde. He's always made sure to breathe through it all, relax his body and mentally prepare for how rough Jungkook may or may not like it at that moment. It's a roll of the dice, and today, anything is possible.

The tight weave of red lace chafes against the model's fair skin as Jungkook thrusts pick up in pace, threatening to tear if tested enough. As much as Jimin loves the feeling of being as pretty as a girl, he doesn't blink an eye when the remaining heel falls to the floor. "S-slower...just...y-yeah, that's--" Jimin's words break into confused pleas, easing into the scene, calming his body enough to receive his partner, inch by inch. "You feel bigger today, Kookie," he gasps, rubbing his cheek into the upholstery of the chair's back and sullying it with his salty tears. He chokes on a quiet sob and presses his hips back to meet a new thrust, "I almost can't t-take it."

"Fuuuuck, say that again." Jungkook growls through his lustful, breathy words. He snaps his hips forward, rougher and buries his cock deeply to be as close as physically possible to his pretty lover. The photographer adores Jimin's choked words, and rarely does anything beat when he cries in pain due to the mere size of his thick length claiming it's space in the model's slick flesh. "Does it hurt?" He says with a noticeable grin that transfers to the tone of his voice. He grinds his hips forward while staying inside, ensuring the jeweled head of his cock is lodged deep inside, throbbing in excitement every time he feels Jimin clench around him with every audible sob. He drags out the moment, using the blonde to warm his cock properly, still grinding deeply inside. His hands greedily roam up and down Jimin's slender back, tracing his fingers on one of his favorite hidden features of his model-- the prominent, yet delicate line where his spine lies beneath his fair skin, moving prettily with every writhing movement of his torso.

"You know how much I love it when you endure pain for me.." He sighs, smoothing his tattooed hands down his lover's thin waist until they settle on his lower back, pushing down to force a stronger arch. "Feel that baby?" Jungkook licks his lips at the sight, intentionally flexing his cock inside to make a point of how impossibly hard he is, rocking his hips back and forth lightly to create the start of a momentum. "I said," He drags his length out further with every stroke, only to plunge it back in harder and harder, "Do you," And harder, "Feel that?"

"Yes...yes, fuck!" Jimin's cries are cut short by the heady penetration. The jolts burn his cheek against the chair, but not enough to distract from the sting of his abused hole.

Sounds of slapping skin rings in the model's ears--the force of Jungkook's pelvis colliding with his plump ass, deafening. "You--You're so big, I--" Jimin presses his ass back into the next deliberate thrust and swallows a yelp, morphing it into a sharp whine. He's incredibly tender from cumming already, full to burst once again. Only this time, there's more pressure built inside, like every ounce of fluid he could possibly possess is begging to be let free. "You'll make me cum too sooon." Jimin wriggles and writhes, but only for a bit, internally reminding himself to be good. Be a good boy for his Kookie. Stay still. Keep calm. Hands lay flat on the blonde's back, littered with faint marks of possession from months before. They scarred as a reminder, marking Jimin, helping him realize his one true place in life is right where he is in this moment--beneath Jeon Jungkook, moaning, whimpering, begging for pain and receiving adoring love and devotion in return. "More," he echos, softly at first, "Harder, fuck me h-harder..."

"You're whining so prettily, baby." Jungkook praises, getting a proper grip of the model's hips to use the strength in his arms to aid the pathetic attempts of Jimin trying to meet his thrusts. The harsh slapping of their skin coming together grows louder when he picks up the pace, indulging hungrily in the elder's hot, tight, insides over and over with his cock. He wishes so badly that he could stay like this forever and repeatedly claim Jimin's body and make him lose his mind. "Asking for more, when your frail body shakes so... Fuck, it only makes me want to hurt you more." He groans when a particularly rough thrust causes Jimin to clench down, his petite body jolting and his muscles quivering while struggling to stay in position-- trying his absolute best to be good. Jungkook's hunger for more grows, and with it, he fucks Jimin harder, digging his fingers into his slim hips to keep him in place, pulling him back on his cock when he's momentarily jolting forward with every forceful thrust. "Remember what I told you earlier? How I want you to scream so loud you cannot make a sound..." The photographer glances over at the camera, knowing it gets a full proper view of Jimin's face pressing against the chair while he can't see it as well from his perspective. He wonders what kind of expressions he's making right now..

He knows he'll be able to rewatch the content later, but he wants to see more..

Jungkook leans forward a bit, still fucking Jimin, heavy audible breaths of his hard labor pushing past his lips while he reaches around Jimin's small torso, lifting him on his knees. He hugs him close, pressing his muscular chest against Jimin's smaller frame, stomach perfectly melting together with the slender slope of Jimin's back. "Maybe I do prefer it if you scream loudly, though..." He buries his nose in Jimin's neck, kissing and biting his tender skin, one hand on his waist and the other smoothing up his stomach until he settles on his chest. The calloused pads of his fingers finds Jimin's nipple, reddened and sensitive due to the previous friction from the lace, making it real easy for him to find the reactions he's looking for when he pinches it hard between his fingers. His hips never cease to fuck generously, adamant to overwhelm every sense in the elder's pretty body.

With each filthy remark from Jungkook, Jimin yelps pleas of encouragement. The rough pinch simply drags it out of him, quick and loud. "M-more...harder! ...just like tha-aaat, shit..." He doesn't need guidance to say what comes next, meaning it with every short breath in his body-- "I'm a failure," he squeaks, "Cumming inside you so quickly, it's just--ahh!" You just f-felt so tight...and it's been so long, I..." Jimin grasps the hand that balances his flat chest and draws it up to grip tight around his neck, helping to push him over the edge--so close, it's almost alarming. Jimin squeaks, "...I'm gonna cum again. Fuck, I might...I don't know...I..." He loses his train of thought, not that there was much of one to begin with. Sobbing of praise and self depreciation are all his muddled mind can compute when he's fucked this well--now adjusted to his lover's large swollen length. "You fuck me too good...much better than I fucked you, I'm so s-sorr--mmmf--AH!"

Jungkook's pierced tip glides against his prostate, rubbing him raw, making his eyes flutter and skin tingle with the peak of his high. This is new. It's not normal. The gradual sensation he longs to feel is much more urgent, nearly bulging his abdomen to let free. "Wait, wait!" His small hand taps on Jungkook's arm to release him, struggling to pull away. His muscles spasm in a quick alert, and he knows all too well what's about to come next. "It's too much, I'll--" Before Jimin can finish his sentence, hot spurts of urine stream down his thighs and soak the chair he straddles. The second it starts to trickle out of his exhausted body, he can't stop it. Thrust after punishing thrust, spurts are fucked out of his shaking form until he's putty in the younger man's arms, quivering out what must be a form of orgasm. His cock pulses as his prostate continues to be abused, and all he can do is cry and whimper from embarrassment. "I'm sorry, I'm s-sorry--hic. Kookie, I couldn't s-stop--hic"

"Are you embarrassed?" He smiles, "Can't even hold it in when getting fucked." Jungkook peeks over Jimin's shoulder to watch his smaller lover's body quiver and squirm, unable to hold in anything when the younger fucks it out of him without mercy. "Always love to make a mess, do you? Then acts so innocent.." He teases, hugging Jimin closer while he squeezes the blonde's throat tighter, leaning his delicate back against his muscular chest to allow Jimin to feel some leverage. He slows down the grinding of his hips when he's fucked out every single drop possible from the model's cock, just pathetically red and throbbing.

"I still didn't cum..." Jungkook sighs, stopping his movements. He keeps himself buried deep, the grip on Jimin's throat moving to his chin to guide their lips to meet in a messy, drooly kiss. He delicately pulls back to crook an eyebrow, internally beaming with pride at how utterly fucked out Jimin looks. "Move onto your back, lay in your own filth." He suddenly commands, letting go of the elder's weak body to let it fall limp onto the chair, letting his length slip out of his stretched gape. Impatient, he's already aiding him when he notices the light struggle and quivering muscles from oversensitivity-- grabbing his hips to help him to flip on his back.

"Humph." Jimin's hiccups weaken once he's on his back, sinking into the tepid pool of urine that seeps out of the cushion. He stares up at the younger man with saucer eyes--adoring stars swirling in his gaze, slowly coming down from his orgasm. The apples of his cheeks blush an endearing shade of pink, even more as the moisture spreads across his back. It's an ever-present reminder of the mess he made, all over Jungkook's studio chair--the one he sits on to do his work, and the one he reclines in to watch Jimin pose during their private shoots.

"It's wet," the model whines, wriggling to find a comfortable spot on the chair. His nose crinkles at the audible squish the fabric makes when he adjusts his posture, saturated in him, possibly ruined and unusable. His blush dissipates just a bit, because this is the state Jungkook longed to see him in. Perhaps the visual of an alluring male model in feminine lingerie was what intrigued the talented photographer. But, just like the mirrored room, everything must come crashing down until only he can build it back up in just the way he likes.

Jimin loops his arms under his knees and exposes his tender hole to his partner, offering himself as a toy to be played with. "Do you like this, Kookie?" He pulls back a bit more, earning a wet squish from the cushion below. "Seeing your butterfly, like this..."

“Good boy." Jungkook praises, nodding in approval while a long, slow swipe of his tongue coats his lips in the glossy shine of his spit. His predatory stare darkens at the mess he's created-- the vision he's been craving finally coming to life. "I love it, you're perfect." The aching, swell sensation of blood pumping through his body is prominent in his cock as he gives himself a few tempting strokes, placing one knee on the edge of the wet cushion and the other keeping leverage on the floor while caging Jimin's body beneath him. He lines up the thick, jeweled head of his cock with the model's gaping entrance with one hand, placing his other palm on Jimin's thigh to dig his fingers into the soft flesh, aiding him in holding his legs back.

"You've done so well tonight, baby.. There's no better look for you than this.. My spoiled, expensive doll.." Jungkook's dark eyes squint as he smiles softly, a contrast compared to the way he drives his hips forward to bury his cock deep once more, welcomed by the stretched, slick flesh that hugs him tightly in the form of muscle clenches. Even when spent, Jimin does what he can to please. "My messy whore." He quickly builds up the momentum, using the full potential of every silky inch of his rigid length as he drags it in and out, harder and harder, until Jimin's petite body once more begins to jolt upwards with each and every powerful thrust. "S-shit, I love your body, I can't get enough of you like this." Jungkook spits out between grunts, thriving in the wet sounds of his cock plunging into the model, along with the squishes of his small body forcibly rubbing against the wet chair.

The photographer grits his teeth, chest heaving with every shallow breath and muscles flexing to fuck into him harder, harder to release every bit of primal desire to use Jimin to chase his impending high. "G-gonna cum soon," Jungkook's hazy eyes never waver from Jimin's face, watching it distort into his favorite expressions, a mixture of pain and pleasure. "Want me to cover your pretty face with it?"

Jimin doesn't have the power to speak, lost in the trance of Jungkook's cock railing into him at a powerful rate. His aching ring of nerves pulsates with sensitivity, so sore and spent that any words spilling from his rouge bitten lips would be desperate pleas to slow down. Positively not an option. It's their anniversary. Today is a special day--the most monumental day in Jimin's life to date, above any major career move or step in the spotlight. A year ago he may have placed himself before the pleasurable and painful touch of the photographer's hands on his flesh, but that part of himself has been far from erased. Now, in this studio, in their little private world, Jimin naturally folds at the simplest suggestion from the young visionary.

"Cum on my face, baby," he whimpers, holding his knees to his chest for stability. He nods rapidly to confirm, it's exactly what he wants. "Paint your whore--fuck. Cover me in you, I n-need it...all over my skin. Record it, up close. Please, pleasee." His voice squeaks, caught off guard by how badly he truly wants this. More than anything, he knows how beautiful the final scene will look--him, covered in tacky red sinful lace, sticking to his small body with cum, sweat, and spit. Smeared with lipstick. Prettied up and ruined for one man only.

Jimin knows exactly what the photographer wants to hear, and it's obvious by the way Jungkook's eyebrows furrow in concentration, gaze burning into the vision beneath him.

"I love it when you beg like that." Jungkook praises yet again, giving the model another punishing thrust before pulling out, leaving the gaping, needy hole empty for tonight. Normally, he would never pass on an opportunity to stuff Jimin full of his cum-- but tonight, his vision took the top priority over any carnal instincts. He had this vision in mind for forever, and it is finally becoming his reality.

"Look at me." Jungkook commands while taking a step back, tugging at Jimin's bicep to pull his spent body to slide down to the floor on his knees in front of him. He hooks the pad of his finger underneath the blonde's chin, tilting his head back to look up. His other hand works his slick length quickly and roughly, ready to burst at any given moment-- he's held it so well, and he knows he will cover his doll's perfect face with everything he's got. It'll be the ultimate visual of his fantasies; Jimin, the picture perfect man in shambles, ruined makeup and covered in various body fluids willingly, merely to serve and keep the photographer satisfied and happy. Maybe even excited for the rewards that come with compliance. "Pretty... So pretty, and all mine, hahh.." Jungkook hisses through labored breaths, clammy chest heaving as he looks down at Jimin's lips, rubbing the jeweled tip of his cock against them, stroking his cock purposefully to make a show out of the way his tattooed hand effortlessly glides thanks to every little ounce of slick fluids his lover provided. "Keep looking at m-me...fuck, I'm gonna--gah, cum." He moans louder to let Jimin know how much he's enjoying this, and the visual from both their perspectives must be otherworldly. Both men are utterly devoted and obsessed with the other.

Just as Jungkook's hip move to fuck into his hand, they stutter when his orgasm hurls over the edge without much of a warning. A drawn out, deep groan rumbles from the back of his throat, and it feels like his eyes would roll to the back of his head if he didn't intentionally keep himself so focused on watching the way thick, hot ropes of cum began to paint the model's delicate features one by one. His hand squeezes his cock, thighs tensing and relaxing between every twitching throb of his orgasm. He spits curses and praise, moans and whines, not stopping until he's made sure Jimin's skin is an entire mess, glazed with his release.

Silken droplets of pearly cum slip down Jimin's cheek and tickle the pert pout of his lips. Slowly, he licks away what he can, peeking open an eye and giving a longing look of devotion. The salty release tingles on the tip of his tongue, which he savors with a low hum. He doesn't need to ask to know how much the photographer enjoys this sight. He knows that from this angle, he's a masterpiece, commemorating a year of servitude in the most filthy way imaginable. The low glow of the recording camera reminds him of his duty, to show off his final look--a far departure from the stunning, sinful vision he admired in the mirror. Heels are scattered on the floor, stained with a light streak of blood. Stockings are torn ragged, and bralette is askew and hanging loose. With no way of truly knowing, Jimin assumes he must look a complete and utter wreck. Still, remnants of lipstick stain him in misplaced splotches, smearing down his lips and onto his chin. The ruddy makeup appears to be even brighter and remarkable under the luminous sheen of cum that slips off his chiseled jaw. Jimin lifts to his knees and palms at Jungkook's thighs to draw him closer. "Come here."

Jungkook mindlessly follows Jimin's quiet order, stepping closer before dropping to his knees in front of him, meeting his hazy eyes on face level. He can't do anything but admire his work as if in a blurry trance, and the boiling adoration in his gaze is evident.

"I'm here, baby." He says quietly, glancing over at the camera. He had gotten his shot, the visuals of everything he'd been hungering for now captured in an eternal digital memory. A sense of pride and content fills his chest as he looks back at Jimin, reaching out to swipe his thumbs underneath his makeup smeared eyes. He takes another longing moment to just look, slowly inching closer until he finds the model's pillowy lips with his own. He kisses him gently once, twice before pulling back.

"You did amazing. I got the perfect shot, and you looked so gorgeous." He rubs Jimin's bruised neck slowly, examining the purple and red marks, "Did you enjoy it a lot? I had this planned for a while.. And it came out even better than I anticipated.."

The blonde closes the distance again to kiss Jungkook tenderly. A shaky hand cups the photographer's face while the other mindlessly holds him at the waist for balance. The room shifts subtly, and Jimin breathes into the motion, tilting his head to follow the natural part of their mouths moving as one.

"Mhm," he hums again, indulging in the comfort and warmth of Jungkook's touch. He needs it after, always, to feel like a precious doll again. Like clockwork, they come together into a slow comedown, feeling their united heartbeat as the tips of their fingers brush against damp skin. "Happy anniversary," Jimin smiles into a sweet and short kiss. The tentative hold on his neck draws the model in more and he allows the younger man to indulge in his creation. He allows it until the warm ropes of cum begin to tack to the round apples of his cheeks, and the slight discomfort of his muscles begin to set in.

"So sticky and wet now, Kookie. Just how you like," Jimin smirks, pleased he could once again fulfill his love's vision. "I may need some help getting out of this though." Jimin hints at the soaked, ruined lingerie that still clings to his torso.

"I'm so happy. Thank you for taking me so well, baby." Jungkook places one last rewarding kiss on Jimin's sticky cheek before he gets up on his feet, bringing his lover up with him to lift him up into his strong arms. He holds him close, walking over to the camera to turn the recording off and heads towards the bathroom. "Let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed, I have another surprise for you." He smiles through his statement, placing Jimin on the toilet seat to wait while he draws a hot bath. He turns to Jimin, reaching behind his torso to unclasp the bralette and discard it on the floor, then resumes to tug at the panties to get them off. Every action of his is tender now, the aftercare more than important to ensure that Jimin is properly rewarded for doing so well and taking every rougher part of him-- so he deserves the affection as well. "Come." He coaxes lowly, undressing properly as well until the tub is filled, and takes Jimin's hand in his to guide him into the water, seating them with Jimin's small frame practically in his lap. A soft sigh pushes past his lips from the relaxing warmth surrounding them. "Wash your face off first, don't want your eyes to get irritated."

Jimin cups the warm bathwater in his hands and stares at the faint shadow of his face cast over it. He pauses a moment, adjusting to the comfort of being supported from behind--feeling small and cared for, then brings the water up to cleanse. The warmth soothes over his soft skin, and after only one splash, he can feel the layers of grime shluff off. His palms tinge a faint red. Lipstick rubs away, followed by other various bodily fluids, some of which need a couple passes before it is completely removed. The work to remove it only makes Jimin appreciate the work Jungkook put into planning such an unexpected night.

"I never get tired of this," Jimin coos, bring another palmful of water up to wash over his face, "Taking baths together...it's one of my favorite things." Baths--such a normal and almost childlike experience. It's something that brings the small model pleasant ripples of nostalgia, like it was only yesterday they first shared the simple experience of cleaning one another. It's centering, to wash away the filth of the day and watch it slide down the drain until it's gone completely. Jimin reclines into the tender embrace of his love and allows him to rub soapy water over his body, moaning gently the cleaner he feels.

"One year," the blonde sighs, closing his eyes, "What would I have done if I never met you?" He tilts his neck to get a good look at the younger man. "Life would be so...boring."

"Indeed." Jungkook agrees, the toothy grin on his face just as childish and endearing as when they first met eye to eye in his studio. He looks back at Jimin with just as much-- if not more admiration swirling in his doe eyes. He cranes his neck to kiss the elder's forehead, gentle hands smoothing over his petite body to rub off tonight's events. "But it was fate." He adds, hands moving up to comb his fingers through the blonde curls after adding his familiar shampoo into his palms, massaging his tender scalp with the comfort of his scent.

"Sooner or later, we would've found each other." A moment of silence follows, all that is heard is Jungkook cleaning Jimin's hair while the latter basks in the aftercare.. until he speaks again. Whether Jimin heard it or not, remains a mystery.

"I would've made sure of it."

#fic: expensive doll #Mused Obsession #jikook smut #jimin smut #jungkook smut #bts mxm smut #bts mxm #bts smut #sub jimin #dom jungkook

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maswritingblog · 3 years

Text

The Arrangement - Part Four

Summary: After their first failure, Lucy and Marcus continue with the schedule as planned and hope for the best.

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY!), Oral (f receiving), mentions of trying to conceive, mentions of fertility, pregnancy tests (in case that is triggering for anyone) Unedited because I literally finished it and wanted to post it, so sorry for any mistakes.

A/N: Here is the next part! I hope you all enjoy it and I once again apologize for the long wait for this chapter. It’s a long one, coming in at about 7k words.

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Lucy’s phone chimed on her desk beside her, pulling her attention away from the email she was composing. She had been needing a break, her eyes starting to get tired from staring at her computer screen all morning. She took the opportunity to draft the email and sat back in her cushy office chair, unlocking her phone to view the notification.

Ovulation day!

The two words were framed by little flowers from the theme for the dumb cycle tracking app she’d downloaded a few days after she had started sleeping with Marcus. She hadn’t realized it was her ovulation day and she cursed inwardly; not only was it Tuesday, she also had to work late tonight, so spending an extra night at Marcus’s wasn’t an option.

Dammit. She sighed heavily, placing her phone back on her desk as she thought for a moment. She couldn’t afford to not stay late tonight, but Marcus couldn’t afford to lose one of the best days they had. That really only left one option…but she wasn’t sure if Marcus would agree to it, or if she was up for it either.

She debated it for a long few minutes before she decided it was a risk she was willing to take, and she grabbed her phone to send Marcus a message.

Meet me in the parking garage in five minutes. Level 8.

She hoped she wasn’t being too crazy, that he wouldn’t think she was out of her mind when she revealed her plan. Honestly, she was out of her mind for even thinking about doing something like this at work.

Marcus’s reply came back almost instantly. Everything okay?

Instead of answering, she dropped her phone on her desk and pushed her chair back. She made sure her computer was locked and secured before slipping out of her office and heading towards the elevators. She tried not to look into Marcus’s office on the way, though she knew he must be confused about the situation.

She wanted the mystery to work in her favor.

Level eight of the parking garage was one of the levels that didn’t get much traffic. It was where the extra government vehicles were parked and agents would use them occasionally when they couldn’t use the ones assigned to them. The secluded level would be perfect so long as there weren’t any agents needing a temporary vehicle.

Lucy rode the elevator to floor six and got off, walking quickly to the SUV she’d been issued for her team but didn’t get to use that often. It might as well get some use now, even if it wasn’t exactly what the big-wigs had in mind when they’d handed her the keys.

Driving up to the eighth floor, she moved down the two rows of matching black SUVs and finally parked at the end of the row on the left side. She only hoped it was far enough away that nobody would notice anything.

She tried not to think about the fact that she was slightly turned on by the idea of doing this. Maybe it was the thrill of getting caught, of the consequences of being found doing something so inappropriate on government property.

Stepping out of her car, she walked around to lean against the back end as she waited for Marcus. It only took another minute before the elevator dinged and he stepped out, looking around with a look of confusion on his face before he spotted her and headed her way.

“Lucy? What’s going on?” he asked, coming to a stop in front of her, his brown eyes searching her face for any kind of answer.

For a brief moment, she almost wanted to chicken out. It would be easy to change her mind, even if she would have to come up with an explanation as to why she had dragged him to the parking garage in the middle of the work day.

“So, it’s Tuesday,” she started slowly, trying to decide how to approach the situation.

He nodded slowly. “…yes…”

Lucy laughed lightly, more at the situation that she’d put herself in more than anything else. “It’s Tuesday, and I have to stay late tonight to work on the briefing for tomorrow. But the thing is…I’m ovulating. Today’s the highest chance for pregnancy according to my stupid app, so I didn’t want to miss the chance to try.”

As she rambled, he seemed to put it together. His eyes widened nearly comically and he glanced around the parking level as if someone would be lurking in the shadows watching them.

“You—you want to do it here?” he asked, voice laced with surprise. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.

She nodded quickly. “I know it’s crazy, but this could be the day and this is the only time we’ll have to try. We don’t exactly have time to drive anywhere offsite, and I’m not about to do it in a bathroom or a supply closet where anyone could walk in. I figured this would be the best place since nobody really comes up to this level.”

Marcus sputtered, seeming to lose all ability to speak. “W-What? How—How?”

She wondered if he was flustered because he thought she was nuts, or if he liked the idea. She had to admit that the prospect of getting caught had an affect on her in a way she hadn’t realized before; perhaps it had something to do with breaking the rules.

“The back seats lay down, leaves a good amount of room in the trunk. But we don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable with it; I just won’t be able come over tonight and I didn’t want to miss an ovulation day.”

He was silent and she couldn’t figure out what he was thinking. Sometimes she felt like she could read Marcus like a book, and sometimes she felt like he was locked in a safe and she didn’t know the combination. As he eyeballed the back of the SUV, she wondered if she had truly lost her mind when she had thought this was a good idea.

Finally, he gave her a pointed look. “Are you comfortable with this? I don’t want you to think you have to do this just for me.”

Of course, he was being a gentleman about this. Of course, he was putting her comfort above his. It was so on brand for him, and yet that didn’t stop her from being surprised by it. She appreciated it, while also wishing he would think of himself more often.

She chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m the one suggesting this, remember?”

Marcus paused in thought for a moment, his eyes moving from the SUV to her multiple times before he finally nodded. “Yeah, okay.” He agreed.

She wasn’t sure why she was surprised, maybe because she thought public sex was a line he wasn’t willing to cross. If she were being honest with herself, it wasn’t a line she had ever imagined crossing either. Desperate times called for desperate measures, though, right? Something told her this wasn’t what the person who had coined that phrase had in mind.

“Okay.” She echoed, moving to one of the back doors and motioning for him to go around to the other side.

Pulling the door open, she reached for the lever to lower the seat on her side and watched as Marcus did the same. With the back row lying flat, there was plenty of room for the two of them to lay down, which seemed like the best way to not be spotted should anyone actually come to this level. Climbing in was a bit awkward, but they managed to get the doors shut behind them. Kneeling in the back of the SUV, they stared at each other for a beat.

“So, how do we do this?” Marcus wondered, asking the same question she had been mulling over in her head.

She didn’t know why she had to have the answer for everything, but it could have something to do with the fact that she had initiated this encounter. She had been confident about this idea when she’d come up with it, but now she found herself blanking on the next step. Perhaps she didn’t have it in her to be this spontaneous?

“I didn’t really have this all planned out…” she admitted slowly. The awkwardness felt like the first time all over again, and it almost made her laugh.

Marcus nodded. “Okay, so I don’t really want to be caught buck naked at work, so I’m thinking that we stay as clothed as possible.” He suggested.

It was something she could agree with. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best. So, pants only then?”

“Pants only.”

Lucy reached down to work on her belt and he did the same. Once her pants were undone and she’d pushed them down her thighs slightly, she sat fully and started pushing them down her legs. It wasn’t the easiest task in the back of the SUV and she found she had to lay down a bit to even get them to her knees.

Marcus’s hands were gently pushing hers away then and he pulled the tight slacks down her legs.

“If I had known this was gonna happen, I would have worn a skirt today.” She joked, slipping her shoes off so he could pull her pants off and push them out of the way.

“Definitely would have been easier.” He teased as he slotted his hips between her thighs and leaned over her to press his lips to hers.

His belt was hanging open, the cool metal pressing against the skin of her inner thigh and making her jump slightly. Their tongues tangled and she wanted to run her hands through his hair the way he liked, but she didn’t want to make it obvious what he’d been doing away from his desk. Instead, she reached down and finished opening his pants for him, lowering the zipper and slipping her hand inside to palm him over his briefs.

Marcus groaned into her mouth, pressing his hips into her hand as his teeth nipped at her bottom lip and then her chin before his lips returned to hers in a heated kiss. He rolled his hips against her palm and she squeezed him gently, pulling another groan from his throat, followed by his hand grasping her wrist in warning.

Lucy chuckled against his lips, beginning to squeeze again only to be surprised by his next move.

The grip on her wrist tightened and he yanked her hand from his pants, pinning her wrist down next to her head. He pulled away to stare down at her, his chest heaving as his eyes narrowed playfully at her.

“What?” she asked in feigned innocence, stifling a laugh.

For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something, but instead he simply shook his head at her with a laugh of his own. He released her wrist and supported his weight on his hand next to her head, the other reaching down to begin pushing his pants and briefs down.

Taking it as a cue, she reached down to do the same with her underwear, sliding them down her legs as best she could as he pushed his down to his knees.

“Can’t believe we’re actually doing this.” He commented as he situated himself between her legs again, his erection bobbing against his stomach where he’d pulled his dress shirt up out of the way of any potential messes.

She wanted to ask him if it was as exhilarating to him as it was to her, but she thought that maybe he didn’t see it that way, that he’d find it weird that she did. She’d discovered a lot of things about herself since they’d begun sleeping together, a lot of things that excited her despite the fact that she’d never considered them in that light before. Perhaps she was more depraved than she realized.

“We don’t have to.” She reminded him, just in case he was having second thoughts. She wasn’t sure if he was given the way he was already so ready, the tip of him already leaking. Despite his body’s reaction, though, she wanted to give him the chance to back out.

Marcus’s met her gaze, and his voice came out soft despite the way his eyes had darkened with lust. “I want to.” He reassured her while silently asking if she still wanted this as well.

There was a long beat of silence as she stared up at him. She admired his handsome features, the way a lock of his perfectly styled hair had fallen onto his forehead and the way his nose curved down towards his plump lips. That single dimple that she found so endearing.

It still baffled her how he didn’t already have a beautiful wife and family.

She found herself unable to respond verbally, so she reached up to pull his mouth back down to hers.

He got the hint, pressing his body down close to hers as he reached down to position himself at her entrance. He slid his tip up and down her folds a couple of times, gathering her wetness before pressing into her slowly. He eased in until his hips were flush against hers, both moaning in unison as their lips parted, their foreheads pressed together.

There was no going back now; Lucy’s knees brushed against his sides as she hitched her legs up further on his hips, pulling him deeper inside her with a soft sigh against his mouth.

His hips drew back slowly and then he slid forward again, repeating the movement a few times. As good as he felt, as good as the slide of him inside her walls made her feel, she knew they didn’t have the same amount of time they usually did and anyone could come up to this floor at any time.

“We have to hurry.” She gasped as he filled her again.

He pulled almost completely out of her and paused. For just a moment she thought he might stop, but then he thrust forward, driving into her hard and fast, wasting no time before he did it again, and again.

Lucy clung to his shoulders, hands fisting in the material of his shirt as she held on, small and breathy moans escaping her each time he filled her. She knew his shirt might be wrinkled by her hands, but at least he could cover it with his suit jacket if he needed to. For now, all she needed to be focused on was the pleasure rolling through her with his movements, and the hope that the risk they were taking would pay off in the end.

The rhythm they had created had the SUV rocking gently; if anyone saw they would definitely know what was happening inside.

Marcus was hovering over her, supporting his weight on one hand as the other hooked under her right knee to press her leg closer to her chest. The new angle had him driving deeper inside and brushing against her just right; the slap of his hips against hers as he worked at a bruising pace only echoed by their sounds of pleasure.

One of Lucy’s hands scrambled down from his shoulder, desperate for purchase. She gripped at his side where his shirt was raised, nails biting into the skin as she rolled her hips up to meet his.

Marcus groaned above her in response to the scratch of her nails and as he thrust forward again, he took a moment to grind his pelvis against hers.

“Oh, fuck.” She gasped, reaching up to cup his jaw and pull his mouth back down to hers.

Their tongues tangled as they moaned into each other’s mouths, hips working together to get them closer to their release. Just as Lucy felt herself approaching the cliff, the ding of the elevator startled them.

They both jumped, freezing their movements as Marcus hunched over her as if he was trying to shield her semi-nude body from any prying eyes. His head lifted slightly to peek out the window and Lucy waited with baited breath for someone to catch them.

They would surely be fired if they were caught having sex at work.

Marcus’s brown eyes were locked on whoever had arrived on the parking level. The sound of voices filled the concrete structure and Lucy thought for sure things were going to end badly.

Unexpectedly, Marcus slowly rolled his hips against hers, causing her eyes to flutter involuntarily.

“Wha—?”

“Ssshh.” Marcus shushed softly, eyes not leaving the window as he pulled out slowly only to fill her again at the same pace.

Was he really doing this? As he rocked his hips again, it seemed he was.

His eyes never left the window as he moved slowly over her. She could hear voices on the parking level, although they were several vehicles away. Each push and pull of his hips had him brushing up against the sensitive spot inside her and it only served to drive her closer and closer to the edge.

Although she tried to stop it, she couldn’t completely hide the small moan that escaped her as his hips ground against hers. She knew she needed to keep quiet for both their sakes, but it just felt too good.

Marcus gently shushed her again, the tips of his first three fingers pressing delicately to her lips to keep her quiet.

God, there was something about the need to keep quiet that had her so close.

The soft thudding of car doors shutting echoed through the parking garage and Marcus used the opportunity to snap his hips against hers just a little harder, pulling another whimper from her throat as her eyes fluttered closed.

An engine started before the vehicle could be heard driving down the ramp exiting the level and Marcus pulled his hand away from her mouth, driving his hips forward as he returned to the pace they’d set before the interruption.

Lucy tried to ignore the way she missed his fingers over her lips, choosing to drag his mouth back down to hers for a heated kiss, lifting her hips to meet his hard thrusts as one of his arms wrapped around her to hold her body against his.

“Fuck.” Lucy gasped against his mouth, feeling herself once again on the precipice. One of her hands fisted in his shirt again, while the other seemed to have a mind of its own and slid around to grasp a handful of his backside as if it would help guide his movements. She couldn’t think straight, all she knew was how good he felt, and then she was tumbling over the edge with a string of moans.

Marcus buried his face in her neck, working her through her orgasm with a groan of his own at the way she pulsed around him. His arm tightened around her, fingers digging into her ribcage as his thrusts become shallow and deliberate as he desperately chased after his own release.

Lucy’s hand left his shirt, reaching up to smooth through the hair on the back of his head as if she was encouraging him to let go. Her nails dug into his backside as she gently tugged on the soft locks of hair, eliciting a moan from where he was tucked into her neck.

A little encouragement was all it took and he was there, warmth blossoming inside her as he filled her with rope after rope. He moaned slowly, nuzzling against her neck as he came down from his high.

They laid there like that for a minute or two as they cooled down, tangled up in each other despite the fact that they didn’t have the luxury of their normal wind down time. Even though they needed to get back to work before anyone noticed they were both missing, neither of them moved. Perhaps it had been the fact that they had almost been caught or that they had done this at work, but it had made this time more exhilarating, and in turn had exhausted them.

Regardless, Lucy didn’t mind a little extra time with his arms around her.

After what felt like five minutes or more, she rubbed both her hand up and down his back slowly. “We have to get back to work.” She spoke softly, her voice raw.

Marcus nodded against her throat. “Mmhmm.” He mumbled, arm squeezing around her tighter for several seconds before he slowly pulled back to look down at her, his eyes darkened with something other than lust.

Lucy’s fingers brushed over his cheekbone and she glanced at the fogged over window over their heads. “We totally missed the opportunity to recreate Titanic.” She noted with a chuckle.

He laughed lightly, brushing her hair off her forehead. “Maybe next time.” He offered, still slightly out of breath from the exertion.

Lucy raised an eyebrow at him. “Hmm…are you trying to get caught with your pants down regularly?”

“Well, I was thinking we’d park somewhere more discrete, but if you wanted to do it in the middle of the road, that’s fine too.”

She shook her head at him, rolling her eyes playfully. “As thrilling as it was to almost lose my job, I think we should stick with discretion in the future.”

It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. “Oh, it was thrilling for you, huh?” he teased.

Another eyeroll. “Getting less thrilling by the second.”

He snickered, leaning down to press his lips against hers in a chaste kiss that quickly turned heated.

She allowed it for a few seconds before pushing against his chest. “Okay, okay, we gotta get back to work.” As much as she would have enjoyed potentially going for another round, she knew they could both only be away from their offices for so long before it became suspicious.

“I know, I know.” He sighed, taking a second before he slipped out of her and rolled onto his back, beginning to put his clothes back together.

Lucy reached for her underwear, pulling them back on before moving for her pants. It was a bit awkward trying to redress in the back of the SUV, but they quickly got themselves presentable.

“Okay, I’m gonna drive this back to where I originally parked and you can go back to your office. That way we don’t show back up at the same time.”

He nodded as he opened the car door and climbed out. “That’s probably a good idea. Don’t want anyone getting suspicious.”

She rounded the back end of the car and reached up to fix his collar before smoothing her hands over the wrinkles on his shoulders from her hands. “Well, I think they’ll probably figure it out when I get pregnant.” She shrugged nonchalantly.

Marcus paused, eyes widening slightly as he took in her words. Lucy didn’t seem to register what she’d said, adjusting her own shirt as best she could using the reflection in the car window.

“When?”

She turned at the surprise in his voice, finding his face open with awe. “That’s the whole point of this, isn’t it?” She teased him with a chuckle. Inwardly, she too realized that she’d said when instead of if. Maybe it was just positive thinking, or maybe she just knew it was going to work out for him. As good a guy as Marcus Pike was, he deserved to have a family and surely whatever deity reigned above would see that.

“Y-Yeah,” he swallowed hard. “I guess it was just different hearing you sound so sure about it.”

“Look, I know I’ve been sort of a Debbie Downer the last few days—”

“—No! It was rough when things didn’t work out, I understand why you were upset. I was, too. It’s just nice to hear you feeling positive again.”

Lucy grinned at him, stepping closer and resting her hands on his hips. “Well, that would be the endorphins, probably. You know, from the mind-blowing sex we just had?”

He couldn’t help but laugh in response, nodding his head in agreement. “Well, I suppose you’re right.”

“I always am.”

Stretching onto her toes, she pressed her lips against his in a chaste kiss before she stepped away. If she let it go any further, they might end up in the SUV again.

“Okay, get back upstairs before someone notices.”

“As you wish.”

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

Peeing on a stick always felt so weird to her. She’d had her fair share of pregnancy scares in college, so it was nothing new, but the act of trying to land as much urine on the tip of a stick as she could was always odd. Having to stop several times to use multiple tests was just as strange, but soon she was standing in front of the bathroom sink with three pregnancy tests in front of her.

Two minutes and she’d know. Two minutes and her life would either change for the better or continue to be stressful for the short amount of time Marcus had left before his surgery.

“Are you sure it’s not too soon?” the man in question asked from where he was sitting on the edge of his bed.

She’d opened the bathroom door after she’d peed on the sticks, not wanting to wait for the results alone.

“I don’t know, these tests say you can take them as early as ten days after unprotected sex.” She said, studying the box again. “I mean, we’ve done it plenty of times since the SUV, but something about that time felt like it worked.”

“Probably just those endorphins.”

She gave him a wry look, rolling her eyes even though she knew he was probably right. She couldn’t explain it, but something about that time felt right. And, yeah, maybe it was just the rush she’d gotten from almost being caught or the fact that it had been one of their best moments together, but she still needed to check. Besides, the only harm that could come from a negative result would be disappointment, and she was already chalk full of that.

“It’s been two minutes.” Marcus said softly, breaking her from her thoughts.

She took a deep breath and stepped closer, leaning down to check the tests. Her shoulders slumped.

They were all negative.

When Marcus spoke again, his voice was closer, in the room with her. “Maybe we did it too early.” He offered softly.

Lucy sighed heavily, scooping up the tests and dropping them in the trash can with a loud thunk. This was the first time they’d tried actually taking tests—the first failure had come in the form of her menstrual cycle—and she had hoped for the kind of excitement that happened in movies all the time where the couple takes the test and see the positive result and cry in each other’s arms; that was a sham.

“Hey, hey,” He seemed to pick up on her mood shift immediately, his hands moving to rest on her shoulders. “It’s probably just too early. Don’t worry, we still have plenty of time.”

“Plenty of time? Marcus, you only have like forty days before your surgery. I thought this would be easier. Like…I know that people struggle with this stuff all the time but we’ve also been having a lot of unprotected sex. How could one of those times not have taken?”

He maneuvered her body to face him, his hands returning to her shoulders where he continued to squeeze reassuringly. “Sometimes it just takes time, remember? Don’t get so stressed out, it doesn’t help.”

“It’s hard not to be stressed when your clock is running out.”

There was a long silence between them before he perked up. “Let’s go out tonight. Blow off some steam, have some drinks. It’ll be good for the both of us.”

Lucy shook her head. “We’re not supposed to drink, remember?”

He rolled his eyes. “One night won’t hurt us, I promise. We both need to relax a little.”

For a moment, she thought about it. What could it hurt to have some fun for one night? If the stress was already ruining things for them, then alcohol could only help, right? If it loosened her up and made her less stressed, that had to help a bit. Perhaps it was a good idea.

Finally, she caved. “Okay, okay. Let’s go out.”

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

Lucy couldn’t contain the giggle that escaped her as they stumbled into her apartment a few hours later. She was lingering somewhere between tipsy and fully drunk, feeling good after a night drinking away her worries; they weren’t supposed to drink while trying to conceive, at least according to all the research, but it had been nice to unwind after feeling so stressed out. Stress wasn’t good for conceiving either, so she figured alcohol wouldn’t hurt this once.

Marcus, who was equally feeling the effects of the alcohol, locked the door behind them and ushered her into the kitchen. He immediately went for the cabinet he knew housed her glasses and pulled one down, filling it with water from the faucet and taking a gulp before handing it to her.

Even wasted he was a gentleman.

Their eyes locked over the rim of the glass as she drank and she slowly lowered the glass to the countertop, eyes never leaving his. The silence was palpable, the tension in the room so thick she could cut it with a knife if she wanted to. She reached for him and he met her halfway, their mouths meeting in a searing kiss.

His hands were all over her as hers bunched in his shirt, their tongues tangling, and Lucy was reminded once again that she wasn’t as good at keeping things casual as she would have preferred. She wondered if he felt the same or if this was easier for him.

He trailed kissed down her jaw and neck, nipping at her skin gently and soothing over the spots with a flick of his tongue as she panted, a whimper escaping her as he sucked lightly on that sensitive spot beneath her ear.

He didn’t stop there. He pressed kisses to her collarbone and then her chest, moving lower until he was kneeling in front of her. His hands brushed against the skin of her thighs and slipped beneath the hem of her skirt, his eyes turning up to meet hers as he pushed the fabric until it was bunched around her hips.

She gasped as his lips pressed against her inner thigh, light as a feather as he trailed kisses upwards. In all the time they’d spent together, they hadn’t done this—they’d been more focused on getting straight to the point—and she felt like her heart was about to explode out of her chest.

Fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her panties, his eyes on hers once again as he began to drag them down her hips and thighs until they fell to pool around her ankles. She stepped out of them, kicking them aside as she gripped the edge of the counter in anticipation. She was already soaked.

His hand gripped underneath her left knee and he lifted the leg to hook it over his shoulder. His eyes finally left hers as he began trailing kisses up her leg from her knee until he reached the spot she wanted him most. There was a moment of pause as he seemed to take her in, before he leaned forward and dragged his tongue through her folds in one smooth stroke, ending at the bundle of nerves, which he circled slowly with the tip of his tongue.

Lucy gasped, one hand leaving the counter to thread her fingers through his hair. Her eyes fell closed as she relished the feeling.

He certainly knew what he was doing as he got to work, and before long she was moaning breathlessly as she clung to him. She canted her hips slowly against his mouth, and she wasn’t sure which she liked more: his tongue on her clit or when his tongue trailed further down and his nose rubbed against it just right.

Her right leg was shaking as it tried to support her weight as she verged on the edge, her body was on fire. She wanted to ask how he’d gotten so good at this, but she didn’t want to think about the women in his past too much either.

His tongue flicked her clit once more before his mouth closed around it and he sucked lightly. It was all it took to send her over the precipice with a whine. Her fingers tugged on his hair and she struggled to stay upright, and he gripped her hips to keep her standing as he lapped at her center and slowly brought her down from her high.

“Shit.”

Marcus chuckled against her, pulling away to look up at her once more; his face was shiny from her wetness, and he licked his lips before wiping his face on the back of his hand as he stood.

She reached for him, pulling his mouth back to hers for a kiss, tasting herself on him. That had definitely sobered her up. She could feel his hardness pressing against her hip and although her legs were shaking, the release sent a thrill through her and she reached down to quickly undo his belt.

Perhaps he was still feeling the effects of the alcohol, or maybe going down on her had sent him into a frenzy like some kind of shark, because he gripped her hips and turned her around to face the other way. As her hands landed on the countertop, she could hear his belt jingling and then the unzipping of his pants. Her teeth bit into the pillow of her bottom lip in anticipation, still amped up from her high.

The rustling of fabric told her he’d freed himself, and then his hands were on her hips; he pushed the skirt of her dress up higher and stepped closer, the heat radiating off his body sending shivers down her spine. There seemed to be a moment of hesitation and then he asked with a raspy voice: “Is this okay?”

It was something she found she really loved about him—he had already brought her to orgasm with his tongue and they’d had sex numerous times, but he was still asking if it was okay to take her from behind. Anyone else would have laughed, but she found it to be very attractive.

“Yes.” She replied, barely over a whisper at the thought of what was to come.

He nudged her feet further apart with one of his and then she felt the tip of him brushing through her folds. She leaned forward over the counter more and angled her hips better and then he was pushing forward slowly until he was fully seated inside her.

She moaned softly at the feeling, pressing back against him.

Marcus pressed his face into her hair, inhaling her scent as he remained still for a moment as if he was collecting himself, or maybe gathering the strength to continue. Then, ever so slowly, he withdrew until just the tip was left inside of her. He paused again, adjusted his grip on her hips, and then thrust forward quickly to fill her completely. He repeated the motion several times until he was pounding into her.

She wasn’t quite sure how he managed to be gentle and rough at the same time, and the pace he had chosen surprised her; not that she didn’t think he had it in him, but that it was new. If it stole the breath from her lungs, she wasn’t complaining. He mouthed at her neck and shoulder, where the thin strap of her dress had fallen down her arm. The contrast between the gentle grazing of his teeth on her skin and the brutal thrusts inside her had her weak in the knees.

“Fuck.” She moaned, doubling over to press her forehead to the countertop, relishing in the cool surface against her heated skin.

Marcus’s hands were gripping her hips tightly, his own hips meeting her backside over and over and creating a delicious noise that echoed off the kitchen tiles, the grunts and groans spilling from his lips matched her own. One of his hands smoothed up her back and he gripped her shoulder, angling his hips on the next thrust and pulling her back against him.

Lucy’s breath left her again in a string of moans as the new angle hit perfectly every time.

“Stop that racket!” a voice shouted from the other side of the wall, along with a fist pounding.

She couldn’t help but laugh at her neighbor, an elderly man who made tons of noise but hated when anyone else made even a peep. She heard Marcus chuckling behind her, but the intrusion only seemed to spur him on and his hips smacked harder against hers. It had her moaning louder, and she realized that had been his intention all along.

Though she probably wouldn’t admit it, she liked that he wanted to antagonize her neighbor.

The hand that had been at her shoulder slid down her side and around her front, dipping between her legs to circle her clit with the pads of his fingers. As she reached to grip the edge of the counter, her arm knocked into the forgotten glass of water and sent it tumbling to the floor where it surprisingly didn’t shatter. Neither one of them paid it any mind as their releases approached rapidly.

The neighbor was pounding on the wall again, but it was doing him more harm than good as the sounds echoed louder against the tiles.

“I am going to call the landlord!” the elderly man yelled on the other side.

“S-So call them!” Lucy shouted back, just as her orgasm hit her like a freight train. If the neighbor hadn’t made such a big deal, she would have tried to stifle her moans, but instead she lifted her head from where it had been resting on the countertop and let him hear it just because she knew it would infuriate him.

Marcus’s face was buried in her neck and his warm breath huffed against her skin as he laughed at her reaction. His movements were frantic, desperate, as he chased his own release and it didn’t take long for him to stiffen behind her. He pressed his body close to hers and groaned into her ear as he filled her.

They were still for a long moment, panting as they came down.

“I don’t think your neighbor likes you.” He joked, pressing a kiss to her neck.

Lucy laughed out loud, knowing it would also annoy the man in question. “I don’t really care.” She shrugged the shoulder his head wasn’t resting against.

“I’ll leave earbuds on his doormat.”

“No, let him listen. It’s probably the most action he’s gotten in decades.”

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

It’s a Tuesday night two weeks later that it happens. She’s reorganizing her bathroom purely due to boredom and she stumbles across a box of pregnancy tests. She peeked inside and felt her heart race a little; there was one test left.

Chewing on the inside of her cheek, she pulled the test out and debated using it. They had been keeping up with their schedule, meeting at his place minus a couple of times when they really wanted to annoy her neighbor. Even though the three tests she’d taken two weeks ago had been negative, it didn’t mean she wasn’t pregnant then. False negatives happened all the time if the test was taken too early.

Maybe now is the right time.

She ripped the plastic wrapper off the test and moved to the toilet, glad she hadn’t used the bathroom yet. As she finished and set the test on the sink so she could wash her hands, she glanced up at herself in the mirror.

“Don’t get your hopes up, Luce.” She whispered to herself. She knew if it came back negative, which it more than likely would, it would only hurt more.

She had to step out of the room because she knew it would only make the minutes go by slower. What was that saying? A watched pot never boils? So, a watched pregnancy test never develops? She moved to the kitchen to start putting away the dishes in the dishwasher. By the time she finished, five minutes had passed.

It was time.

“Shit.” She whispered to herself, shuffling nervously towards the bathroom.

What was she going to do if it was negative? Marcus didn’t have much time left, if it wasn’t going to happen then that would break both their hearts.

But what if it was positive? It was what they’d wanted all along, but she couldn’t help but feel her stomach flip with nerves at the idea that all their efforts had paid off. It wasn’t because she didn’t want a baby, but because she did.

The test was sitting upright on the counter, all it would take was for her to step forward and she’d know. One step forward. It was just one step.

Knowing if she didn’t do it now, she’d never do it, she stepped forward quickly and snatched the test up, lifting it to stare down at the tiny plastic window.

Her heart jumped into her throat.

It was positive.

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

A/N: I didn’t add pregnancy on the list of warnings because I didn’t want to spoil it. But also, if you are reading a fic that is specifically about getting pregnant, that is kind of a given.

Tag list: (strikethrough means it wouldn’t let me tag you)

@absurdthirst @meanperegrine @hopeamarsu @bison-writes @giselatropicana @melispunk @hnt-escape @cheekygeek05 @bluemoon-glen @star-wars-hell @lawfulgranola @underwaterwonderscapes @words-way-of-life @kesskirata @rosiefridayrogersunday-reads @nicolethered @fangirl-316 @finnisrioting @janelongxox @hellovanessax @a-trial-run-on-paper @christina-loves @moonlightburned @generallybrontidefeelings @shakespeareanwannabe @griscka75 @neganwifey25-blog @tacticalsparkles @daffodin @fastandfeminist @valentinasubmarina @a-skov @ptutts @librariantothejedi @janebby @redsilentwolf28 @tuskens-mando @spideysimpossiblegirl @skeletonstwins

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#The Arrangement #marcus pike #marcus pike smut #pedro pascal smut #marcus pike fic #the mentalist #pedro pascal fic #mywriting #didn't add pregnancy as a warning bc i didn't want to spoil it so i apologize

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ptergwen · 3 years

Text

smoke and mirrors

⇢ richkid!tom x richkid!reader ⇠

w/c: 4.1k

warnings: swearing, drinking, light angst, and implied smut

summary: because of your mother’s insistence on a pristine family image and tom’s messy one, you deny your true feelings for him

a/n: ok ok ok the pics of tom in monaco really made me think and i had to get everything out of my system so here we are! thank you and enjoy x

your living room is engulfed by a hushed chatter that comes from far too many guests. half the people, you hardly know. it’s overcrowded, superficial, and the last place you want to be. it’s one of your mother’s get-togethers, as she likes to call them. these things are always far from the casual affairs they sound like.

weeks go into planning, caterers and decorators making themselves at home in yours. the family’s image is everything to your mom, so being a good hostess is her top priority. ironically, she’s more concerned with throwing her gatherings than raising you. so much for family, huh?

the only reason you agreed to make an appearance tonight is that tom might do the same. he’s a really good friend, someone you’ve been able to count on through all the mess that is your lives. you met in high school, when he moved from london to the states. his dad was offered a job promotion he couldn’t pass up. plus, tom and his brothers would be receiving a stellar private education here in america.

it was a win for everyone, especially you. the freckle faced boy who got lost on his way to english class became your closest confidant. tom’s company is such a sweet escape. he’s not interested in opera or the stock market like most people you meet are. he sneaks you out to go on walks at dawn and does shots with you until you can’t stand straight.

as you two continue to grow together, revelations about yourselves have come to light. what you want beyond your inheritances, who you want beyond friendship. you figured out the second part on a faithful night recently. tom showed up to your place with a bottle of tequila. after you drank it down through lots of lime chasers and giggles, he kissed you. you didn’t kiss back.

your heart said to go for it, but your mind pulled you back in. you were so shocked and overcome with new feelings, you froze up. that, and you’d infuriate your mother. although she cares about tom a great deal, she loathes his public figure. he’s always getting papped in places and with people he shouldn’t be. the two of you together would just destroy her.

you still want to please your mom at the end of the day, no matter how deep under your skin she gets.

tom immediately apologized and tried play it off as him being drunk. you grew up with him, became part of each other’s families, which means you know him well enough to know he was lying. he meant every second his lips were on yours.

what you need to do now is something you’ve meant to for a while. the only problem is that you’re stuck at your mother’s party, and tom hasn’t shown up yet.

“y/n, darling,” your mom calls for your attention. she’s dragged you into a conversation with some bloggers, but you haven’t spoken a word. “why don’t you tell us about your trip to spain last summer?” she plasters on her award winning grin and squeezes your shoulder. it’s time to play along.

“oh, it was beautiful,” you halfheartedly reply, more to the bloggers than her. they nod in clear interest. one jots down notes. “we went for a few weeks and visited a bunch of different cities. i’d love to go back sometime.” the typical press formatted answer earns your mom’s approval. you’re off the hook. your eyes start to wander around the room, hoping to set on tom.

“we?” the woman taking notes asks. must everyone pry? “my friend and i,” you shortly reply. you’re standing up on your tiptoes to see over the crowd. you’d think six inch heels would do the trick. “i’m actually looking for him right now, so if you’ll excuse me,” you offer a polite smile and silently pray they won’t ask who. unfortunately, your wishes don’t come true.

the other blogger, a short and stubborn man, speaks up. “just a friend you say? come on, tell us. who’s the lucky fella?” he inquires. your mother raises a firm eyebrow, signaling for you not to.

tom has a reputation for his reckless behavior. it’s your mom’s worst nightmare when the media associates your names under most circumstances. you’re representing her, so she does whatever she can to control how you’re seen. you’re constantly in the papers, being a young socialite and all. it sucks.

“he’d like to stay out of the tabloids, sorry,” you cover for tom, on your mom’s behalf. “i should really go. it was nice meeting you.” the bloggers don’t bother to hide their disappointment as you shake their hands. your mother rubs your back in approval. “thank you for doing that. we’ll talk later,” she speaks lowly. “bye, mom!” you practically make a run for it.

weaving through the sea of people, you end up by the main entrance. it’s hard not to get lost even though it’s your house. the place is packed with girls just a couple years older than you, wearing pearls around their necks. men’s strong colognes flow through the air. you’re in a form fitting red slip dress and louboutins yourself.

smoke and mirrors is what they call it. you show the pretty parts to distract from your ugly ones.

harrison suddenly comes waltzing in with a lady on either of his arms. you’d expect nothing less. he’s tom’s best friend besides you, considering the failed kiss attempt didn’t change that. their parents worked at the london branch of the same company. they each came to the states and met you. you happily introduced them to your world, helping to make it theirs as well.

“haz!” you meet him at the front door. he’s smirking while he leads the women inside. “fancy seeing you here, isn’t it?” he jokes. “very funny. i died laughing,” you deadpan, curiously eyeing harrison’s plus two. they merely giggle. “listen, have you seen tom anywhere? if he’s coming.” you’re fighting back a frown. “why wouldn’t he be?” harrison questions in a more serious tone this time.

“long story. you have guests to entertain, so i won’t get into it now,” you decide and manage a small smile instead. he perks up. “right. i’ll let you know if i see him?” nodding, you give him a wave goodbye. “enjoy yourself.” “you too, love. cheers!” the girls lean into him, harrison wiggling his eyebrows at you. he’s ridiculous.

hours pass by without word of tom. it isn’t like him to miss an event, especially if you’re in attendance. you despise these exhausting nights, and he’s supposed to be your rock during them. he should have his arm draped around your shoulders, whispering silly remarks to you while you hide out somewhere. you miss him more than you thought possible.

you’re just about to give up when you spot nikki ushering her husband inside. behind them follows tom, clad in a grey checkered suit with his locks perfectly tousled. he’s here. you waited the whole night, and he finally came.

tom kisses his mom on the cheek before strutting over to the drink table, not without a few reporters hassling him. they’re probably looking for another holland scandal to break. he declines their requests for comments on this and opinions on that, instead pulling up a chair next to harrison. the two exchange hugs and fix themselves glasses of champagne, you watching their encounter.

harrison fills tom in on the drama he’s missed tonight while they sip their drinks. tom keeps forcing smiles that don’t reach his eyes. he’s fiddling with his fingers, leg bouncing up and down steadily. those are the telltale signs he needs saving. however awkward it may be, you’re going to have to break your silence. it was bound to happen eventually.

“mate, i’m telling you. she fit her entire first right up her-“ “boys,” you cut into harrison’s story, greeting him and tom. his face tints deep pink upon your arrival. “don’t let me stop you. finish your charming anecdote,” you encourage him and subtly glance over at tom. he’s biting back a grin as he sets his elbows on the table.

“not with a lady present. let’s just… pretend you didn’t hear that,” harrison chuckles nervously and hops to his feet. “i’m gonna leave you two to chat.” humming, you move to take his chair. tom sucks in a breath. “what happened to the girls you brought?” you wonder. “they left. said they got bored,” harrison admits, tom stifling laughter. he elbows his friend for that.

“oh, fuck off. i’ll see you later,” he mopes, flicking your arm for good measure. tom salutes him and grabs his nearly empty champagne. “so long, bruv.”

it’s just you and tom now, seated side by side, silently so. he has no intentions of speaking first. he’s too embarrassed, and you don’t blame him. this is on you. you clear your throat before starting the conversation.

“can i top you off?” you tap the bottom of his glass with a tiny smile. tom shakes his head. “i’m alright, thanks.” he finishes the last sip and sets it down, turning to face you. your smile has vanished. “wasn’t sure you were gonna make it. i’m glad you did,” you change the subject. as if he’s considering the sincerity behind your words, tom furrows his eyebrows.

“mum wanted us to. she dragged me and dad straight off the golf course,” he explains and clasps his hands in his lap. his fingers interlock with each other. you fight off the urge to replace them with yours. “we would’ve been here sooner, but the paps are camped outside.” the hint of a smile forms on his lips, at last. “guess it’s not often you get the town’s finest under one roof.”

“you think i’m one of the town’s finest?” you tease, resting your chin in your palm. something flashes behind tom’s eyes. he looks right into yours, scooting closer. “absolutely. you’re the most eligible bachelorette in this whole building.” you allow a toothy grin to spread across your face. “tommy, stop it. you’re too nice to me.”

the nickname is music to his ears. tom looks you up and down, licking his lips simultaneously. “no, seriously. you look gorgeous,” he muses, you pushing at his chest. he exhales a breathy laugh, and you giggle yourself. “red’s definitely your color.” “reverse card. you wear it way better than i do,” you insist. your fingers tug at the collar of his suit. “too bad you didn’t match me.”

you’re relieved you two can talk like you usually do, light flirting and good vibes. it might not be so hard to put the kiss behind you. well, you can’t go on pretending it didn’t happen. you have to at least discuss the fiasco. tom should know why you didn’t reciprocate, then you can take it from there. whether he still has feelings for you, assuming he ever did, will depend on how that turns out.

“not to ruin the fun, but we still have to talk,” you murmur, tom’s body stiffening across from yours. he’s not sure he’s ready to discuss that. “can it wait? we’re at a party,” tom reminds you, running a hand through his styled locks. “yeah, my mother’s. don’t tell me you’re having a good time,” you playfully chastise him. he simply shrugs. “hardly. you’re the best part.”

you ignore the butterflies roaming about your body.

“you won’t mind a quick convo, then. it is with me,” you attempt to persuade him and place a hand on his knee. tom coughs a bit too loudly, the contact surprising him. “you know what? i think i’ll take you up on that drink first,” he decides with a mustered up smile. “coming right up.” you pat his leg before taking his glass. he chews on his lower lip while you poor the bubbling liquid. that was certainly… odd.

you slide tom his champagne back with an exaggerated wink. tom scoffs at this. “mm, thanks. care to join me?” he brings the alcohol to his lips, eyes never leaving yours. your mother specifically said no drinking tonight, since the press would be here. screw your mother, though. “please. could you hand me a glass?” you eagerly grab the champagne bottle. tom searches for an empty cup next to him.

you two are unspoken drinking buddies at this point.

“here you are, darling,” tom drawls, holding out the glass for you. every time he calls you that, you completely melt. “thanks, tommy,” you purr in response. you’re finally pouring your own drink when someone taps you on the shoulder, and hard. you look behind you to find your mother standing with her hands on her hips, less than thrilled. speak of the devil.

“hello, mother. can i help you?” you make sure to ask rudely. she responds with a smile that’s obviously fake. if tom weren’t here, you’d be getting scolded. “yes, my darling. those bloggers from earlier were hoping you’d finish your interview.” your mom shakes your shoulder in a motherly way. you squint up at her. “didn’t they leave hours ago-“ “they’re back,” she sharply informs you.

she’s lying, and you have a hunch as to why.

frowning, you hold tom’s hand in both of yours. “sorry, this won’t take long. why don’t you go find tuwaine?” you suggest instead. “he’s around here somewhere.” tom gives you an understanding nod and laces your fingers together, even if it’s only for a moment. “must be chatting up some producers or whatnot. i’ll see if i can help.” he’s such an incredible friend to everyone. he deserves the same from you.

“thomas, so lovely to see you,” your mom interrupts. tom stands up, kissing both her cheeks out of courtesy. “you, too. what a wonderful party. thank you for having us.” despite what the rest of the world believes, his manners are impeccable. “of course. give nikki my best, will you?” your mom puts her hands on his shoulders. he grins at her. “definitely. take care, mrs. y/l/n.” “always a pleasure,” she states, nudging you to come along with her.

you shoot tom one last apologetic look as your mother pulls you along and towards the crowd.

tom is no idiot. he’s well aware how she really feels about him.

when a swarm of guests is surrounding you, your mom lets go. you scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. “why would you do that? i haven’t seen tom in days.” she sighs without a care. “isn’t it time you branch out? expand your social circle?” her manicured fingers ruffle your hair. you push away her touch. “i’m social enough. we were in the middle of something really important.”

you begin to walk away, but your mother takes your arm. “whatever you’re about to do, it’s a mistake. he’ll make a fool of you,” she practically spits. yanking your arm from her grasp, you laugh bitterly. “of me, or of the family name? look around, mom.” you gesture to the spot beside her where your dad should be. “as far as i’m concerned, i have no family except tom. i’m gonna go check on him.”

you’re gone before your mom can stop you. she simply stands there, utterly mortified by what you said.

you run around the house to find tom, stumbling in your heels and not giving a fuck. you’d truly meant the part about him being your family. all the holland’s, honestly. they’re the most genuine and caring souls, and you don’t want to lose the one you’re closest to because of your mother’s delusions.

tom is in a circle with harrison and tuwaine, the three of them chuckling amongst themselves. you’d hate to bug him, but this can’t wait anymore.

“uh, tom?” you mumble his name, appearing behind him. he steps away with another quiet laugh. “hey, y/n/n. that was quick, hm?” your face gives away your distress. his whole demeanor shifting, tom reaches for your hands. “what is it, love? is something the matter?” “just… come with me,” you croak out.

you manage to smile at harrison and tuwaine, dropping one of tom’s hands so you can lead him upstairs. they each return the smile and share curious looks.

following behind you, tom keeps your hand tight in his own. he’d thought you were going to grill him about the kiss that barely happened. it seems like this is a much more pressing matter. his outburst of emotions can be discussed another time. now, it’s time to deal with yours.

you drag tom into the first room on the second floor, which is your dad’s study. he’s away on business this weekend, so he luckily couldn’t make the party. tom sits down in the office chair. you sit up on the desk, in front of him. your lip quivers the second his worried features come into view.

“y/n/n, what’s going on? why are we in here?” tom wonders, his tone soft. your heart clenches. “i- i wanted us to have some privacy when i told you this,” you sniffle out and blink back the tears forming. you’re sort of shaken from the conversation with your mother, and mostly because you have no idea how tom will react to your confession.

his hands come to stay on your thighs, right below your dress. they feel warm against your bare skin.

“tell me what? i’m listening, yeah?” tom gazes up at you with so much love. “lay it all out for me.” god, he’s fucking amazing. if only you knew where to start. “do you, um…” you trail off, letting your tears subside and words settle. “do you remember when your family made your big debut in town?”

a grin replaces tom’s frown, painting his beautiful face. “how could i forget? you made it quite memorable.” he traces circles on your thigh and elicits a giggle from you. “i spilled a whole thing of soda on your white fucking button down,” you recount with a lighthearted sigh. “right before your dad was supposed to introduce you to everyone, too.”

tom presses his tongue into his cheek to hold back another grin. “took ages to get it out. dad went mad when i didn’t show.” he cocks his head to the side, you leaning back on your hands. “you held me hostage in the laundry room so you could do that bloody stain stick.” your mouth drops open in mock offense. “i had to clean up my mess! i wasn’t gonna let the world meet you covered in pepsi.”

that was one of your earliest memories together. the holland’s threw a party and invited everyone who was willing to attend. they had been hoping to properly introduce themselves to the town, and this was their way of doing so. although yours and tom’s friendship was fairly new, you spent all night together because you had experience with such events.

tom’s dad was making a speech to thank the guests for coming. you and him listened from the snack table, until his name was called. he rushed to go up there while you were pouring yourself a drink. he’d bumped into you, and the bottle ended up all over him. you snuck tom right off to his laundry room.

you’d felt terrible as he stood there shirtless and blushing, you aggressively swiping his button down with a stain stick.

“why do you bring that up?” tom questions and continues circling your skin. you purse your lips. “i dunno. it was the last party i actually enjoyed,” you admit, putting your hand over his that rests on your thigh. “like to reminisce when i’m suffering through one of my mother’s.” his eyes shift to where your hands are laced. “i see,” he affirms. “so, is that… all you wanted to talk about?” “not even close,” you laugh out.

a burst of courage coursing through your body, you say it. “when you kissed me the other night-“ “i won’t do it again,” tom cuts in, trying to avoid the rejection he thinks you’ll give him. “it was a mistake, and i’m so sorry. our friendship is more important than my feelings.” you seem excited to hear that, though it’s not for the reason tom expects. “you do have feelings for me?”

he’d forgotten about his i was drunk excuse.

“um, yeah. i do,” he admits, cheeks rosy and lip caught in his teeth. “but, i’ll learn to put them aside, if that’s what’s best.” “no, no. it isn’t,” you dismiss him and put your free hand on his chest. “i love you, tom. that’s what i was really trying to tell you.” your words bring an instant grin to his face. he chuckles in disbelief, standing from the chair.

“fuck, thank god. that’s all i’ve ever wanted to hear.” he’s between your legs now, his hands moving up to your hips. you’re beaming at him as your arms snake around his neck. a burning question comes to tom’s mind. “hang on. why didn’t you kiss me back, then?” he almost whispers, thumb brushing over your hipbone. “this is gonna sound weird, but… my mom,” you reluctantly let out.

“you’re gonna have to elaborate,” tom prompts you and raises an eyebrow. you can’t hold back your eye roll. “she’s never been a fan of the person you are in the media.” his lips form a line. “i gathered.” your fingers tangle in his curls at the nape of his neck reassuringly. “i was subconsciously scared i would be letting her down in some way, if we were together.”

tom allows your hands to work their way up to his scalp. he exhales contentedly as you play with his ever so soft hair. “i understand, she’s intimidating. what’s changed that brilliant mind of yours about coming clean?” your nose scrunches up when he pokes one of your temples. “oh, yeah. i yelled at her earlier ‘cuz she stole me away from you.” his face lights up. “sexy.” “shut up,” you groan. “someone had to tell her off.”

“good thing it got to be you,” tom agrees with a squeeze at your hip. “‘m proud of you, y/n/n. it’s not easy, standing up to mummy dearest.” you tug on his hair. “like you’d know. nikki is a saint.” “that’s what she’ll have you believe,” he says under his breath, you gasping. his lips turn up in a smirk. “on that note… i love you, too.”

“would’ve been embarrassing if you didn’t say it back,” you acknowledge with a cheesy smile. tom dips his head down to rest his forehead against yours. “yeah, yeah. save the attitude for your mum.” your legs easily wrap around his waist, tom’s breath hot as it hits your face. “let’s give that kiss another go,” you mewl. he doesn’t hesitate to reply. “with pleasure.”

tom’s lips land on yours, you kissing back right away. he smiles into it as your lips gently move together. “about fucking time,” he grumbles, your hands situating in his chocolate curls once again. he’s savoring every second you touch him, kiss him, love him. the taste of your mouth is one he’s craved for longer than you could imagine.

it doesn’t take long for things to heat up, you messing with tom’s hair and tom rubbing your hips. you lay back on the desk as his tongue enters your mouth. holding you by your waist, tom hovers over you. his tongue tangles with yours in a deep kiss. between that and his fingers beginning to massage your thigh, you’re done for. you’re ready to take this a step further by the time he’s kissing down your neck.

“tommy?” you grab onto his shoulders, your head back. his lips detach from your skin with a grin. “yeah, love? ‘s everything okay?” he coos, pressing a final kiss to your collarbone. “more than.” you tilt his chin up to peck his lips. “you wouldn’t happen to have a condom, would you? just thinking ahead.” he laughs breathlessly, reaching into his suit pocket.

“conveniently enough, i do. not sure your dad would like me fucking you on his desk, though.” tom sets his hand on your leg that’s still hooked around his waist. “my room’s always available. carry me?” you make grabby hands and bat your lashes. he hoists you up by your waist, not lifting you just yet. “that would break the news of us, no? your mum’s gonna go apeshit.” he keeps his arms around you, chuckling.

“let her. besides, i know a couple of bloggers that would love to announce our status update.” you peck tom’s lips, grinning as you do. you’re suddenly in the air and being picked up by tom. the surprise of it makes you squeal, clutching onto his broad shoulders instinctively. he gives you the look of adoration that’s reserved for you only.

“we’ll go pop a few bottles with everyone, then we’re celebrating on our own.”

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