#friend i like wears a lot of glitter on his face as part of the makeup he does n we hung out after school today (primarily legit just to

[deceitfuldevout]

Highest Bidder

Dark!Robert Fishcher x Sugarbaby!Reader

Word Count: +3,066

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Loss of virginity, Human auction, Housewife kink, Breeding kink, Misogynistic remarks, Insults, Just plain abuse, Robert is a warning himself.

Author's Note(s): I have been thinking about this for a hot minute. Inspired by @mypoisonedvine Robert Fischer fic go check it out!!

You couldn't stop checking your phone for an update. He was supposed to be here an hour ago. Did he bail? Part of you had hoped so. It would make things a lot easier. Years ago, if someone had told you that you'd be auctioning off your virginity, well, the first thing you'd do is laugh in their face.

That was before everything went to shit. Your parents ended up in neck-deep debt trying to pay off your college, borrowing money from some sleazy loaner company. Soon having no choice but to debate on filing for bankruptcy. Everything they've worked hard for, gone. You didn't want them to worry about that anymore.

This wasn't a huge deal for you. Personally, you've never had any luck with guys and would rather get this over with. Growing up you were always the awkward, ugly duckling of the friend group, so a boyfriend was out of the picture. Only sharing an innocent kiss with a childhood friend, but that was a long time ago. It was only after you reached your 20's where you began to bloom.

He'd bought your outfit and covered the cost of everything. He wants you ready and waiting for him, all wrapped up like a pretty present. He's very particular about these things, even making a list of errands to run before the big day. He requested for photos of the hair and makeup you'd be wearing for the evening. Scolding you every time you did something he disliked. He wouldn't even try hiding it. You reread his previous text message: Change the makeup. It makes you look like a cheap whore. You scoff at the response...how rude.

Even before all of this he would try to test your patience. Sending messages like, 'Do you know who I am? You should be more grateful that I'm giving you this much attention," or "Anyone would be lucky to be in your position,' which made you physically roll your eyes. This morning, he had given you a call as a reminder of where you would meet. He send you the hotel address with money for a cab.

He made sure to give you call in the afternoon as a reminder of what to do after arriving, ending it with, "I don't want to hear any complaining when I get there." before hanging up. You grumble a stray of curse words, this had better been worth it...

You couldn't believe your eyes on how luxurious the hotel was. It's entrance had been decorated with marble and brass statues. There wasn't a drop of it that didn't scream 'money'. You sheepishly sign in, allowing a worker to carry your bag to the room. It had taken a while before you could reach the top. Part of you was impressed, he had really gone all out.

As soon as you enter the room there was this sort of romantic ambiance to it. From the lighting, to the breathtaking scenery of the city. It was all so...dreamy. But this was no dream. You were going to have sex for the first time with some old, rich geezer, gross. You take note of a shopping bag left on the bed, opening it to find a lingerie set.

You held the fabric, inspecting the material. White lace, with hints of glitter that shine in the light. At least the old man has good taste. You take a look at yourself in the mirror, humming at the sight of it. Not bad...hell, you looked fantastic.

Suddenly the door knob jingles, then a heavy knock follows. You leapt from the bed, approaching to open the door for him. But before you could reach the knob it slams open. A man enters, sporting a well-tailored suit, dressed to the nines from head-to-toe. His hair is combed back, a few strands dangle against his forehead. As you scan the man's face, you couldn't help but notice how handsome he was.

There's a light rosy hue to his cheeks. You first notice the striking blues of his eyes and how long his lashes are. He looks like he'd have no problem at all searching for someone. So what is he doing paying for someone like you? For a moment, you were in awe of his presence. Staring back at the man like a deer caught in headlights.

The meeting today had taken its toll on Robert. He was supposed to meet with you hours ago, but there had been an emergency with the company's shareholders. He could practically feel his blood boiling, to the point where it felt almost difficult to breathe. He tugs his tie off and yanks for his shirt to open, a few buttons go flying. He lets out a huff, scanning the room with his blue orbs for something, more specifically, someone.

"So you're the one I've been talking to eh?" a hint of humor in his voice, "Let me guess, you're a good girl caught up in the wrong crowd? Is that it?" he taunts, "I'm sure you've 'never' done this before," the corners of his mouth turn upward into a sinister grin. His eyes are emotionless. Cold as ice. Yet why did they seem so comforting? As if you've seen them before.

He drops his suitcase at the end of the bed, turning towards you. He eyes you up and down, as if he were deep in thought, "Give me a spin," and of course you follow his orders. He raises a brow, "Come here," he commands. You stare back at him, unsure of what he'd just said. Robert sighs, he doesn't have time for this. He's slightly drunk and exhausted from work. Right now he just wants some hard, animalistic fucking.

He tugs your underwear to the side, examining his prize. He bunches up the waistband of your panties before yanking the fabric down. You held your breath, now riddled with anxiety. This was a bit too...casual for comfort. He fists the fabric, holding it to the side while the other hand held your hip.

His voice is deep, much deeper in person, "Hold it for me," he wants to get a good look at his purchase. His thick fingers slide down your pubic area, grazing against the bare skin, he hums, "Even waxed yourself like I told you to, good girl." he slaps the side of your hip, as if he were examining livestock. Your stomach coils at the realization. Never in your life have you felt so...objectified. Still, now wasn't the time to back down. He pushes you against a desk. Until you were now leaning on the table.

He spreads your folds with his thick digits, examining them closely. He held your clit between his fingers, pinching it lightly. You let out a whine from the sensation, bucking your hips from the sudden discomfort. He retreats his hand before flipping you over. His chest now against your back. He pushes you against the table, bending you over for a better view. He was in no rush.

He rubs his fingers over your bare slit. His thumb caresses your bundle of nerves. As soon as he retreats you finally snap the fabric back in place. Now lowering your head with embarrassment. He grips your chin, lifting it until you're face-to-face, "No don't hide from me now..." he plops himself on a chair, tilting his chin up, "Why don't you make yourself useful and help me get this off?"

If you weren't getting paid you would've scoffed at his rudeness. It was obvious he was into power play. Being in total control of everything. Now wasn't the time for letting your emotions emotions get involved. You help him remove his coat and tie, even unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. He's still wearing his pants, now unclasped. He stares you down, a smirk now lingering on his cold features, "Take off your clothes,"

When you start to quickly unclasp the garter belt, Robert's voice booms, "Stop." he orders, "Do it slower," he leans back in the recliner, already palming his erection. You shyly unclasp your belt, letting the straps fall off each shoulder. His hand grazes on an exposed breast, sending shivers down your spine.

He chuckles, "Oh...don't tell me you're that sensitive?" a crude remark. Your brows furrow, why did he have to tease you so? He notices your obvious discomfort, "Don't worry darling, your only job is to fuck," as if that would make things better, "Do you know how to suck cock?" he questions. You give him a hesitant nod, "No...I've never done it before this is my first time--"

"I didn't ask for a whole life story,"

"...No," your lips press in a thin line. He was really pushing it, "So you've never had sex or sucked cock before, tell me, what have you done?" he pulls out his member, already hard and leaking. It's tip was flush pink, the same as his lips. He spits into his palm before working himself up, he knows you're nervous. He wants you to be intimidated by him. He pumps his shafts with slow strokes, "Tell me, what gets you off..." he sighs.

You look down to your feet, suddenly his voice booms, "No, do not look away," to which you began to tear up. His voice is soft now, "Sweetheart, look at me," he huffs. You look up at him now with tearful eyes, he groans, "Oh...that's it..." stroking his cock faster. A finger points directly at you in a 'come hither' motion. You walk towards him, still eyeing his shaft. How was that going to fit?

You felt warm despite the lack of clothing, there's a pooling sensation between your legs. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap. His tongue darts against a breast. He teases the bud with his teeth. He made sure it was swollen and sensitive before giving attention to the other breast.

You never knew it could feel this...good. As soon as your hands reach for his hair he instantly stops, Robert remembers the reason why you're here. It wasn't to see him. You only wanted one thing, and he doesn't have time to play pretend. He just came here to collect what he's owed. At the end of the day, you were just a hired whore. He swats both hands away, giving you the cold shoulder. He lifts himself from the seat, throwing you against the carpet. You're confused at the sudden mood swing. It frightens you. Where the hell did that come from?

"It's a shame, you were doing so well," Robert sits up, his leaking cock now presses against his abdomen. He's pissed. He paid you for your time, you were suppose to focus only on his needs. Every word that came from his mouth dripped with anger, "It seems like you need a reminder on whore etiquette," he knows you've probably fucked a few before him, this was all part of your little roleplay act.

"I'm not a whore!" you detest lying, what made him not believe you? Forget it...this wasn't worth an argument, "You know what? You can take your money back asshole! Fuck this and fuck you--" a hand grips around your neck. He'll have to show you a thing or two of what comes with selling yourself out, especially to a complete stranger. You've always knew deep down that you'd regret your first, but this was downright terrifying.

This man, he didn't even see you as a person. As a human being. To him, this was all a transaction that was paid for, "What did you think that website was for? It's a human auction. Not just your cunt. Meaning I own your ass for the next few hours," he leans in, pressing his nose against yours, he growls, "Remember your place..."

Robert pulls you up by the hair, throwing you onto the bed. You scramble to get away but he's much stronger. He began to wrestle you. To which you land a slap on his cheek, hard enough to leave a mark. You pause, now too scared to move. He touches the tender skin, it would surely leave a bruise tomorrow. Which just so happens to be an important meeting, "You little bitch..." he grips your jaw until it aches, forcing your mouth to open.

He takes the opportunity to spit inside, covering your mouth and pinching your nose. You felt like you wanted to gag. Finally, after fighting to hold your breath, you swallow. He grins, "See? even if you try to fight me, I always get what I want..."

You, of all people, should know this about him. Instead you try putting up a fight, "I hate you! I hate you! Let me go!" thrashing around. Both of his hands now pressed against your throat. He scolds, "If you want it to hurt I'll make it hurt like nothing else..." he flips you over, pressing his body against your own, making it harder to breathe.

He lets his pants slide down. Tugging off his boxers. He spits a wad into his hand, that should be enough to get comfortable, for him. But for you? Well, he wants it to hurt you. Otherwise, how will you learn? Whores like you deserve to feel pain. That's what you get for teasing him in your photos. He growls into your ear, "Time to try my pussy..."

He yanks down your panties before pressing his leaking tip against your opening. He muffles your cries in his palm. You couldn't hold back the tears. This man is going to break you! As retaliation you tilt your head to the side and bit into his forearm. He grunts from the pain, it only encourages him to carry out your punishment. He thrusts harder, grinding down his hips to reach as deep as he could go.

You sob from the pain, going limp from shock. All you could do was cry into his hand, bracing yourself against the cushioning below. You turned your head to face the mirror, taking a good look at your own sad, pathetic reflection. You were being dominated by a complete stranger. How did it get to this point? When did you become so pathetic? So desperate to the point where you became a whore for hire?

He held you close to his chest. He knows now you're too tired to fight him off. He kept jutting his hips back and fourth, moaning in your ear with a deep grumble. You could smell the alcohol and cigarettes on his breath. It repulses you. The only sounds that could be heard in the room were of skin-to-skin slapping, Robert's insults, and your muffled cries.

"Fuck....fuck m'gonna cum..." he grunts. He rubs his nose against the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweet scented perfume. He drags his face across the soft, supple skin. He can tell by the shimmer that you applied an expensive lotion earlier. Of course you wanted him, what woman wouldn't? He's handsome, rich, successful, he's the entire package.

So why were you begging for him not to finish inside? You were just being stubborn, that's all. He'll have to remind you of who's in charge, "I bought this pussy fair and square. If I want to put a baby in it, then bitch, I will," he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, biting until the skin breaks. He doesn't stop thrusting his hips. Plunging his cock deep inside to coat your womb. He moans, furrowing his brows from the feeling of your velvety walls.

"You think you're better than me huh? Old enough to fuck but not old enough to get knocked up, yeah fucking right" he huffs, "You just wanted an excuse to be whore..." His voice becomes hoarse, as the pleasure began to increase, "Fuck...fuck I'll buy you a big house just so I can fuck you in it...hm...yeah you'd like that wouldn't you?" he doesn't stop his vigorous thrusts, "I’ll fuck some babies into you hm? You'd like that? I’ll give you a baby with blue eyes…something to remind you of me…" he flips you over, locking an arm around your neck.

All you could do was whine as you wait for the inevitable. Robert licks a stripe against your ear. He grunts with satisfaction, "Want you to remember this for the rest of your life....every time you think about your first time, you'll be thinking of me...." he fastens his pace. All you could do was stare back at your reflection. A tear trickles down your cheek. You couldn't help but agree. It was true, this moment would haunt you for the rest of your life.

Robert knows it. That's what gives him such an ego boost. He felt like he was on top of the fucking world. He growls in your ear, "Remember this, I.Fucking.Own.You." before unloading his spunk deep inside. He muffles a moan in the crook of your neck, bowing his head down to feel the bliss of it all. Fuck, he never came so much in his life. Was it the adrenaline or the pussy? He doesn't care. All he knows is that it's money well spent.

He slowly begins to pull out, hissing from the pleasure your pussy gave. He moans at the sight of his shaft dipped in a crimson tint, "Fuck me...if that isn't a sight for sore eyes..." he's made sure to mark his territory. He flips you over, you're too scared to even look at him.

He slides his hand from your stomach to your pelvis, "Hold on...I want to see it.." giving your lower abdomen a light push, forcing the rest of his seed out. It's mixed with a string of red. His lids are hooded, there's a twitch to his features. He grins, "Fuck...guess you weren't lying about me being your first..." he chuckles, "And here I thought you were just another lying whore..." playing with your emotions.

Robert lifts himself from the bed. He retrieves his belt on the floor, tying your wrists to the bed post. He doesn't want to risk you running away from him. Not while he still had a few hours left. He fixes himself in the mirror, coming his hair back to how it was before. Making sure that there wasn't a single strand out of place. He admires himself in the mirror. He felt like a fucking champ. Like nothing in the world could stop him, and so far there hasn't been.

Robert knew this was a good idea the moment he saw your profile online. He'd been tracking you down for quite some time, it's been a while. His obsession growing with each message sent. He had to own you. Mind, body, and soul. It was a good idea to install the hidden camera in the hotel. He could only stare at you from his office, viewing you changing into the set he'd purchased, admiring yourself in the mirror. He had to wait another agonizing hour before work was finished.

He notices the way you'd tried being presentable, all for him. How you would constantly check your phone just to see what his orders were. Submissive, compliant, needy. So fucking needy. That little pussy of yours needed his cock to break it in. He doesn't want it to end, he tosses a few bills onto the mattress, you don't even flinch. Your mind had already escaped.

Robert leans in, caging your body with his arms, "Why don't I keep you as my little plaything, hm?" he knows you've recently graduated. But what use was a degree compared to what he could give? What greater reward than being his pretty little housewife? You might as well put those looks to use. He plants a kiss against your lips, humming in satisfaction, "Need a good girl to balance me out..." he begins to rant, "And if you ever think of leaving me, I'll send a video of us fucking to your parents,"

But the thing is, you never told him who your parents were. It was then when the pieces began to fall into place. How could you be so stupid? His username was R-Morrow.

This was no other than the owner of Fischer Morrow, the man responsible for your landing parents in deep debt. Of course they trusted him, because he's your childhood friend. You lift yourself up and face him. Your voice in disbelief when you question the identity of the strange man, now with a tearful look, "R-Robbie?" you whisper. He pauses for a moment, head turning to the side as he looks your way, "Did you miss me?"

"...Why? I-I don't understand..." you began hyperventilating. This wasn't happening. Your childhood friend had taken your virginity. At one point, he was your entire world. He approaches you, no longer a lanky young boy but a man. He cups your face, pressing his forehead against yours. He sighs, "Don't you remember the promise we made? To find each other?" his eyes bore into yours, "I could only dream of it, but now?" he wraps his arms around you, holding you close to him, "Now you're finally mine..."

#dark!robert fischer #dark!robert fischer x reader #reader #reader insert #fem!reader #afab!reader #fab!reader #dark!fic #dark!fanfic #dark!fanfiction #dark!smut #dark fic #dark fanfic #dark fanfiction #cillian murphy character #cillian murphy smut

[ladykailitha]

Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 7

Hello! I am really chugging along with this story I have 5 chapters done (including this one). It was supposed to be 4 with 4 on the Harrington Pattern but somehow, I got an extra chapter here and only 3 on The HP. Still not sure how I did that.

Here we have Chrissy because sometimes you just need another omega friend who gets it.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

****

Steve came home and flopped face first on to the sofa. He wanted to call Robin, but he knew she was hanging out with Vickie tonight. So he had been given a replacement handler for night as management wanted eyes on him because there was always some kind of drama at these things.

It wasn’t a date date, but now they were on the same page, there was major cuddling to be had.

He rolled over and threw his arm over his eyes.

After a moment or two of serious moping he opened the clutch to get his cell phone out. But stopped when he noticed the sparkle of the diamond. He pulled it out instead and held it up to the light. In his minds eye he could see Eddie smiling at him as he handed the lost diamond back to him.

Steve sighed heavily. He had met a lot of alphas in his line of work, but none of them had the effect on him that this one did. Yearning didn’t even begin to cover the depth of emotion ripping through him in that moment.

He rolled off the sofa and wandered into the kitchen, his heels clicking on the hard surface. He really should have taken off his shoes at least. He sighed heavily and grabbed his phone from where it was charging on the counter.

He swapped it for his burner client phone. He unlocked his personal phone to see a sweet picture of Vickie and Robin cuddling together on Vickie’s bed.

He smiled at the absolutely giddy expression on his best friend’s face. It also hit him with a longing he didn’t want to name. He could. He just didn’t feel like sobbing in his kitchen on a Saturday night.

Steve removed his shoes, kicking them off to the side so he wouldn’t trip on them in the morning and then wandered to his bedroom, eyes on his phone.

He unclasped the dress and like he told Eddie it would, it slid to the floor in a graceful heap. All he was wearing now was the gold thong he had worn under the dress. He shimmered out those as well.

He then carefully removed the remaining diamonds in his hair and put them in his jewelry box. He paused with the last one. The one he had been hold onto this whole time. Eddie’s diamond.

He went digging through his vanity until he found a small felt bag that had once contained a small bottle of perfume. He put the diamond into the bag and hung the bag on his vanity mirror.

He went to his closet and rifled through it before finding the pajamas he was looking for.

It was a pair of soft, light grey, satin pants and button down shirt. He never undid the buttons though. He pulled on the pants without underwear. He didn’t have the energy to go hunting down a pair just then. Then he pulled the top on.

He flopped on his bed and wiggled happily at the silky slide of the pajamas on his bare ass. He was still scrolling through his contacts, trying to find the right person he could talk to about this. And then he hit on the perfect person.

He hit dial and waited until it rung through. “Chrissy!” he greeted warmly.

“Steve!” she cooed. “How was the gala? Tommy has been raving for months that you got to go and he didn’t.”

Steve chuckled. Tommy wanted to go because his favorite band was Corroded Coffin.

“Senator Lombard was a wet blanket,” he pouted. “Another alpha was just being nice to me and he got super territorial.”

“Bleh!” she hissed in sympathy. “Who was your handler tonight? I heard you gave Robin the night off.”

Steve sighed. “Yeah, she finally asked Vickie out and I didn’t want her to wind herself up and talk herself out of it. Again.”

“Oooh,” Chrissy said. “I get that. She just doesn’t believe what a catch she is.”

“The dilemma of the century,” Steve agreed. “To answer your question, it was Troy who was handling me tonight.”

Chrissy blew a raspberry. “Troy isn’t the bottom of the barrel, but he’s definitely the scum on bottom of the barrel.”

Steve shrugged even though she couldn’t see him. “He did his job, Lombard was put on my pre-check list and he got me home in one piece.”

“So why are you really calling me, cher?” she asked after a moment of silence. “Alpha prostrating is stupid but nothing you haven’t handled before so what’s on your mind?”

He flopped on his stomach and ran a hand through his hair. “You remember I told that the senator was pissed because an alpha was nice to me?”

“Sure,” Chrissy said. She paused for a moment. “Oh! Were they cute? Is that what’s got your panties in a twist? Super cute alpha was sweet to you and now your ovaries are ready to explode?”

“Tommy’s going to kill me,” Steve moaned.

There was silence on the line for a beat too long and Steve pulled his phone away from his ear to make sure the call didn’t disconnect.

“Wait, Eddie Munson was your hot, nice alpha who made your client so jealous and possessive you put him on your pre-check list?” This was said a question, but to Steve it sounded more like a statement. One he couldn’t refute.

Not that he wanted to. Eddie was hot.

“Yeah,” Steve said around biting his thumb. “I had diamonds in my hair and one of them must have fallen because suddenly he was handing one back to me.”

“Oohh...” Chrissy cooed. “This sounds like an ice cream and wine girl talk. I’ll be over in ten, sweetie!”

Steve let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks, babe. See you soon.”

He rolled over on his back and clutched the phone to his chest. He couldn’t wait to tell Chrissy all about Eddie. He kicked his feet in the air as he giggled.

****

Steve paced back and forth in his front room as he waited for Chrissy to come over. It wasn’t as though she lived far away. She lived like two floors below him.

She was younger than he was by about two years. Like Tommy and Carol everything was happy town with her boyfriend Jason until she presented and was found out to be infertile.

Jason and his parents fought hard to have her put in the Church to be a celibate nun. But thankfully for Chrissy her dad had more sense. Not her mom though. Her mom had gone so far as to drive her to the local nunnery and drop her off.

But after a talk with the Mother Superior and a call to her dad, they made the arrangement that Chrissy would finish up her schooling at the nunnery and then when she turned eighteen she could choose to stay or take one of the other two options.

When Chrissy chose Starcourt, the money was split between the nunnery and her dad.

Money that he then put aside in case she just wanted to walk away from escort business and live her life. The money would be used for whatever she wanted and that included school.

As far as her mother was concerned, Chrissy was still at the nunnery and was just refusing to see her.

Steve thought it was delicious revenge.

The knock came part way through his revery. He leapt over the sofa and ripped open the door.

“Well someone is comfy,” she cooed. As if she wasn’t dressed similarly. She too was wearing fuzzy pjs. But hers were bright pink and had a horn on the hood of the top.

Steve tugged the hood down over her eyes and teased, “And aren’t you the cutest thing?”

Chrissy blushed and pushed on him playfully with her shoulder, her hands were full of ice cream and a bottle of wine.

Steve grabbed the wine. “Cupcake prosecco? Looks yum!”

Chrissy grinned and held up her other prize. “Cookie dough!”

Steve kissed her cheek and led her inside. “You’re the best, sweetie. You didn’t have any plans for tonight?”

She shook her head. “Nope, no clients either.”

Steve reared his head back. “Uh oh, that doesn’t sound promising. Is your handler, Amy not scheduling you right?”

Chrissy shrugged. “I think it’s because I’m nearing the end of my contract and because I have money waiting for me, management is thinking I’m going to bail so they’re trying to stave of the inevitable.”

“Boo,” Steve hissed. “They shouldn’t be allowed to that. Plus, I thought you were staying?”

Chrissy blushed. “I am!” she insisted when he raised an eyebrow at her hesitation.

“Uh huh,” he teased further. “Sure sounds like it from here. You got someone who you want to snuggle up close with when you retire?”

Chrissy ducked her head. “Not anymore.”

Steve was almost to the sofa when that brought him up short. He frowned at her a moment before his face cleared with understanding.

“Don’t say it...” she warned.

He pouted. “But I thought that’s what this was about; us both complaining about our lack of love lives and eating and drinking our feelings?”

Chrissy sighed. “I hate it when you use puppy dog eyes. It’s too fucking effective.”

Steve grinned. “That’s why they pay me the big bucks, baby...” he sung at her.

She giggled and raced him around the sofa to nab her favorite spot on the far left side.

“You cheated!” he squealed. He set the bottle on the coffee table and padded into the kitchen for a bottle opener and two wine glasses.

He popped the cork and poured their glasses. “Spoons!” he said as he was most of the way sat down.

He put the wine glasses on the table and dashed back to the kitchen Chrissy’s giggles fast on his heels. He grabbed the spoons and raced back.

“Tada!” he cheered.

Chrissy set the tub of ice cream between them and dug in.

“So Eddie Munson, huh?” she said around her spoon.

Steve took a large sip of his wine before he he told her about his night. “Like I knew he was hot before now. With Tommy and Dustin both being fans it was hard to not see the guy everywhere.”

“But he’s hotter in person?” Chrissy prompted.

Steve blushed and swirled his drink thoughtfully. “I guess. But he’s so sweet and funny and yeah it doesn’t hurt that his legs look like they could go on for miles in those tight leather pants. That his chest feels out the even tighter see through mesh top he was wearing...”

He buried his head in his hands. “I was lucky wearing scent suppressants is required for each job otherwise the whole fucking gala would have been able to smell my reaction to him.”

“Ooh...” Chrissy said. “I bet you got a little wet for him, too, didn’t you?”

Steve brought his knees up to his chest and scooted away from her.

“Oh my god!” she giggled. “You totally did. This strong, hot alpha made the Steve Harrington wet.”

“I take it back,” he huffed. “You can go away now.”

Chrissy slapped his knee. “I will not! It’s a little...” she pursed her lips trying to find the right word. “Spicy.”

Steve covered his face again. “Oh god.”

“Stevie!” she said gently pulling his hands away. “It’s not a bad thing. I know it’s hard when most of our job is about sex, but babydoll...the fact that you can still have that reaction to a hot alpha means you’re not dead inside, okay?”

Steve sighed. “But I made my client mad at me,” he whimpered.

Chrissy set down her wine glass and moved the ice cream to the table. She scooted as close to him as she could. “No you didn’t.”

He turned his head away from her, but she grabbed his cheeks and gently brought them around.

“You did nothing wrong,” she insisted. “I mean it. Eddie was the host and the two of you were only being friendly. Yeah, you got hot and bothered under the collar for this alpha, but it was up to the alpha you were with to decide how to behave and he chose to be territorial and rude. You aren’t his property. You aren’t anyone’s property, babe.”

Steve nodded. He let out a low breath. “The way Eddie smelled, Chrissy. I had never smelled any alpha like it before. It was warm and spicy in the Christmas way and not the spicy as in a burning mouthfeel way.”

She opened her mouth to reply when he suddenly shifted gears. “So tell me how long you’ve had a crush on my best friend.”

Chrissy went bright red. Scarlet even. “Like forever. Which is decidedly unhelpful. Like I know it’s impossible while she’s still your handler, because Starcourt would never let a handler date a former escort. But she’s so funny and sweet and smart...”

“That you just want to eat her all up?” Steve teased.

She swatted him playfully. “You’re just saying that to get back at me for the wet comment.”

He raised his eyebrows suggestively. She hit him again and he yelped in protest.

Steve picked up his glass and drained the rest of the liquid. He poured himself another glass and held out the bottle for Chrissy, but she shook her head.

“One glass is enough for me,” she muttered.

After a moment of swirling his wine Steve said, “Stay. After your contract is paid in full, Chrissy. Just stay. You love it, even if Robin Buckley was an option, you know you would be happier here than anywhere else. You shine as an escort, sweetie.”

Chrissy picked up her glass and downed the rest of her wine. “Fuck it. Yeah, I’m going to stay. I do love this job. It’s amazing.” She looked at the bottle a moment. “And what the hell, pour me another!”

Steve cheered and emptied the bottle into her glass. She laughed as it almost splashed over the top.

“To being Starcourt escorts for life!” he said as he raised his glass.

She clinked her glass against his. “Here, here!”

They gulped down their drinks and dug into the ice cream again, laughing and talking.

Steve smiled. Maybe tonight wasn’t the disaster he thought it was. He was so glad to have a friend like Chrissy.

****

Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv @dauntlessdiva

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #wip wednesday #omegaverse #alpha eddie munson #rockstar eddie munson #omega steve harrington

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Rook, Ortho: Princess Power

BRUH 💀 Go figure, giving the guy obsessed with beauty two of the least flattering screenshots in his background frames… But hey, his groovy is very different from everyone else’s so far! ^^ Very relaxed and peaceful.

Cbjssbjsjskendb new tidbits about pre-Pomefiore Rook?? He used to cut his own hair with a knife and focused on keeping his bangs out of his line of sight… and he wasn’t as confident about his style (mood). It’s also interesting to know that he started doing ballet on Vil’s recommendation, and that has helped a lot with his posture, working out muscles he doesn’t normally use, and appreciating the art of performances. We love Pomefiore out here breaking gender norms 👊

A Tale as Old as Time.

Rook drew out a longing sigh, gently easing into the quiet of the museum. The soft sound lingered, coiling around his fingers like thread from a spool. It, too, did not wish to part ways with the stunning beauty laid out bare before it.

A fair maiden was framed in shining platinum. Hair black as ebony, lips as red as the rose, and skin as white as snow... Truly, she was the fairest in all the land.

Her graceful frame was folded, kneeling on the forest floor to greet the woodland creatures that had gathered. The pale yellow skirt of her gown spilled out, blue bodice and puff sleeves fitted well by her figure. Her face round and gentle, in spite of the high collar encircling it, crowed by a petite red bow.

Here was pure innocence, a young girl reveling in nature.

“Beauté,” he marveled—to no one in particular, but such beauty warranted verbal acknowledgement.

“It seems that this painting has captured your interest, Rook Hunt-san!” a voice chirped. A neon blue light emanated from the darkness, accompanied by the silver flash of metal.

“Bonjour!” Rook greeted Ortho. "I must confess, I have been enchanted by this particular work of art! The brush strokes, masterful! The composition, immaculate!! The subject—oh, how it makes my heart quiver with nostalgia!! I am a man close to being moved to tears!!”

Ortho curiously glanced at the girl and her animal friends. No strong emotions arose within up from him. Perhaps he did not feel as much, or perhaps Rook felt too much. “Is there a sentimental experience or memory you have related to this painting…?”

“Oui! It is a tale as old as time.” Rook gestured to the snow white young lady. “They say that this maiden was a princess forced to flee from her home country, as a hostile presence threatened her life. She retreated into the woods and found comfort in a humble life there. Her tenacity is most admirable!!”

“Tenacity… That’s the value that Pomefiore was founded on!” Ortho, floating overhead, beamed at Rook. “I understand why you would like that story. It has a good moral that sticks with you.”

“That is the beauty of telling tales! They inspire those who hear of it, ensuring that the spirit of the story is never truly extinguished.” The huntsman’s eyes held a keep glint to them. “Tell me, Ortho-kun. What do you believe makes a princess?”

The boy blinked. A split second, and he had already input the term into an internal search engine, the formal definition loaded up to recite.

“Prin-cess, noun. The daughter of a monarch or wife to a prince. A woman having sovereign power.”

“An efficient, succinct answer!” Rook applauded, his cheer never faltering. “However, my desire is to know your interpretation. In Ortho-kun’s own words, what makes a princess?”

“My own…?” The words stretched, unsure, on his tongue. Ortho hesitated—seeking, processing, and analyzing. Rook’s heartbeat sounded where there was the space for the boy to think.

Then, finally, Ortho spoke.

“From what I’ve observed in movies and books, the princess is a pop culture icon. She’s usually presented as a role model for little girls. Someone who is beautiful, dainty, and composed, wearing a pretty dress and a glittering crown."

A pause. Ortho assessed Rook’s hard-to-read, bright expression.

“… Is that closer to the response you were looking for, Rook Hunt-san?” he asked.

To this, the third year’s lips quirked. “There is no correct or incorrect answer! I was curious to see your perspective. Everyone holds one that differs, lenses of all designs and colors with which to see the world through! You have my most heartfelt thanks for sharing your view with me.”

"Oh, I see! You're collecting data from a variety of sources to compare to a standard." The android (literally) lit up from within. "Let me ask the same back! Rook Hunt-san, what do you think makes a princess?"

"Mon dieu! You've set my own trap upon me," Rook teased.

The Beautiful Queen, the Fair Maiden, Vil, his peers... So many fragments of beauty in his collection. Plucked, collected, hoarded.

He ran a finger along his chin, contemplating. The thoughts assembled like a collage. Ideas taken, cut up, and pasted together into a new, glorious artwork.

"A princess can be many things," Rook declared with certainty. "They are a princess to their very core, even when their power is stripped from them or they are dressed in only ashes and rags. What defines them is not royal heritage or political influence, but the strength of their character, their values and virtues. They are not bound by a singular trait, but are aspirations to all in their own ways."

Ortho's eyes swelled. "Eh...? That's so broad! By your definition, anyone could be a princess—even you or I!”

The huntsman threw his head back and laughed. "Broad it may be, but I am of the opinion that we all have it in us to live up to the title~”

He indicated the woman in the platinum frame. Ortho’s gaze obediently followed. "Even without a kingdom to call her own, she remained kind-hearted rather than turn to cruelty. That is why she was, and always will be, a noble soul. A princess who puts out good into the world.”

“Rook Hunt-san…”

“Ortho-kun!” Rook dramatically extended an arm to him. He was practically sparkling in the dim room. “I, too, endeavor to put out as much beauty as what is gifted to me! That is my one true calling as the Hunter of Love: to not only seek out beauty, but to cultivate and to contribute to it!”

Ortho silently stared. Nii-san did warn me that Rook Hunt-san could be eccentric, but… maybe there’s some meaning to be found in it.

Cutting through the numbers and the formulas that governed him was a fuzzy warmth. Not the familiar jolt of electricity that powered his circuits. It was too wild, too unpredictable.

Something undeniably human.

Ortho let out a giggle. "Hehe. Then you must be a princess too!"

Rook's mouth formed a small "o". Unsubtle surprise—or perhaps purposefully exaggerated. "Me? Whatever makes you think that?"

"Strength of character!" Ortho parroted mischievously. "I've never met someone as uplifting as you are. Rook Hunt-san is the type of person that sees a princess in everyone."

The boy lowered himself to a few centimeters off of the ground, pretending to dip into a curtsey. "Your majesty!"

"Fufufu. You're quite charming yourself, Princess Ortho-kun!" Rook bent into a deep bow. "Most clever in all the land, computing complex problems in the blink of an eye!”

Upon straightening, the third year laid both hands over his heart. He lifted his head toward the painting of the fair maiden in the forest. A serene smile at his lips.

It was as if he was pledging his allegiance, making a vow. A worshipper at the altar to pray.

“May we all live happily ever after,” Rook whispered raptly, “like the princesses of old.”

Forever and ever.

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Rook Hunt #Rook birthday takeover #spoilers #something no one asked for #twst scenarios #twst imagines #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #Ortho Shroud #I hope y'all notice but Rook was basically describing what makes a Disney 'princess' #since not all of them in the lineup are actually royalty

[azrielhours]

Temptress

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 3.9k

Synopsis: Reader has to play temptress/dancer at the Court of Nightmares for the IC. She has to sit on Az’s lap (conveniently necessary) and eat from his hand. Friends to lovers. They can barely keep their hands to themselves.

A/N: visual aid. Coined diadem ~ The outfit  

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

You ran your fingers through the beautifully crafted outfit laid on your bed, mulling over the plan for tonight. You were going to the Court of Nightmares for the very first time as a new member of the Inner Circle. The role you’d be playing wasn’t a light one by any means; you were asked to play the role of Court Temptress, seducing the Shadowsinger. The distraction tonight, a figure that no one could place, that would not be named.

“I know it’s a little intimidating,” you jumped slightly at Mor’s voice suddenly behind you. You turned to face her. “Remember it’s not too late to back out.”

You smiled at your friend. “It’s okay, the mask will definitely help.” In the spirit of the intended mystique, Rhys had a dancer’s veil fashioned as part of the outfit; a diadem draped with intricately organized gold coins that would cover your whole face save for your eyes.

Mor patiently waited to help with your hair and makeup while you changed into the outfit. You wore an off-shoulder corseted black bodice glittering with beadwork that replicated the night sky. Jewelled strings hung off the bottom in an overlaid formation, draped like necklaces resting on your exposed abdomen. The bottom was a matching chiffon black skirt that hung off your hips in a floor-length piece, one down the front and one down back, slitted to expose both your legs.

When you walked out wearing the two-piece ensemble, Mor squealed in delight, making you laugh. “Beautiful! It’s so perfect!” You sat at the vanity to let her do your hair. She curled it into generous waves that fell down your back, fixing the back of the diadem into your hair. “He’s going to love it,” she said as she finished your hair. You perked up, cheeks heating.

“Who?”

Mor rolled her eyes, smiling. “You know exactly who. I’ll be right back,” she winked and left your room. You continued to take yourself in the mirror. Despite your nerves, you couldn’t help but admire your look. The black lining your eyes in a fierce upward sweep, the thick lashes, the way the coins moved with your movements.

Most of all, you appreciated the way your eyes shone behind the gold coins decorating your face, reminding you of a creature of seduction. A siren.

A knock sounded on your door. “Come in,” you said to Mor, inspecting the various crescent moon and star jewels adorning the length of your hair. Mor didn’t say anything upon entering, the silence prompting you to turn and see what was wrong. Except it wasn’t Mor who stood in your room, taking you in.

It was Azriel.

His mouth was parted slightly in astonishment as he gently closed the door behind him. You stood to face him fully, feeling exposed under his inspecting gaze. His mouth closed, jaw clenching and unclenching as his eyes travelled down your form, then back up again. Thank God for the veil, you thought as pink tinted your cheeks.

“Wow,” he said, letting his eyes rake your form once more. “You look… you look stunning.”

You ducked your head at the compliment. “Thank you.”

When you looked up again, he was smiling fondly. “Come on, none of that.”

“What?”

“No bashfulness. Not tonight. Look at you,” he said, walking towards you. A smoky look appeared in his eyes as he held your gaze. “Beautiful,” he said lowly, making your gut twist.

You swallowed. “Thank you,” you repeated. You and Azriel had become best friends over the few months you’ve known each other. The kind of best friends that toed the line a lot, the kind with lingering gazes and extra caresses that they didn’t acknowledge.

“Mor said you needed help with the jewelry.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Did she now.”

Az smiled cheekily. “Don’t shoot the messenger. It’ll be a good warm-up for tonight.”

“Ah yes,” you mused. “My partner in crime for the night.”

You turned to face the vanity again in search of the jewelry. None was laid out, making you frown. You met Azriel’s gaze in the mirror. “Rhys had these custom-made,” Azriel said, pulling out a velvet box you hadn’t seen when he entered. You began turning to see the contents, but Azriel stopped you with a gentle grasp on your shoulder. He began retrieving the contents of the container; a set, you presumed. He looks beautiful too. He donned a black dress shirt and dress pants, the fabric straining under the movement of his muscles. His golden skin glowed in contrast to his dark attire. Azriel pulled out a celestial gold necklace, placing the container on your seat. He unclasped it and brought his hands over your head to place it on you. The pendant fell above the swell of your chest. You moved your hair up to allow him to clasp it in place, and he moved even closer to do so. If you leaned back even an inch, you’d feel his abdomen on your back. You’d feel his breath, feel his warmth. Just an inch – 

“There.”  

You snapped out of your trance, meeting his gaze again in the mirror. He gestured for you to turn with his finger. You turned and craned your neck back to compensate for his towering height. He gazed down at you before finally stepping back. He reached for more jewelry in the box, but you didn’t take your eyes off him as he did. He moved to your side, grasping your right wrist gently to pull your arm up. You did as he silently requested. He treacherously grazed the length of your raised arm with the back of his knuckles until he reached your bicep. There, he clasped a thin, golden cuff in place. He then met your gaze.

“Was that necessary?” you asked despite yourself.

“Oh, yes,” he smiled.

You rolled your eyes, once again saying a prayer of thanks for the veil masking your blush.

He walked to the other side of you and placed the matching cuff in place. You reached into the box and began stacking rings on your fingers to distract yourself. He then held out a bracelet between his fingers, allowing you to rest your wrist on it for him to secure it. He repeated the motion with the second bracelet. You didn’t mind being under his care like this, you thought. “Is that all of it?”

He met your gaze, and that intensity from before came to life in his eyes again. “No.” He reached for the final piece in the box.

You frowned at it in confusion. “What is that?”

“It’s for your thigh.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh.” You took it from his hands and bent to clasp it around your upper thigh. You struggled to clasp it behind your thigh while keeping the chains draping in correct formation, prompting you to begin again and again.

Azriel placed a gentle hand on your wrist. “Let me,” he said. You gave him the chain.

To your shock, Azriel dropped to one knee. The gesture was startlingly intimate, making you hesitate. “Az, you don’t have to do that.” He just shook his head, brushing off your worry. He clasped it in place easily. When he finished, he didn’t immediately rise as you expected.

He gingerly grasped the backs of your calves, meeting your gaze. “Nervous?”

You tried to compose yourself. “What?” Your breathlessness betrayed you, though he didn’t comment on it.

“For tonight,” he clarified.

As if you could focus with his hands grasping you gently. “A little bit.”

He smiled, fondness snuffing out the previous look of fervour. “You don’t need to be. Let them see you as I see you.”

You dared voice your question. “How do you see me.”

“Beautiful, clever, charming.”

Despite his praise, despite what it did to your heart, you felt your nerves arise. “I don’t know if I can do this, Az.”

He stood at your admission. You kept your gaze lowered, prompting him to raise your chin gently to meet his gaze once more. “You can,” he said. The certainty in his voice made you believe he meant it. “I’ll be wearing a mask too,” he said softly.

“What mask?”

He smiled again. “The big bad Shadowsinger mask.” That made you laugh, easing your nerves. “I’m going to be acting very unfeeling and ravenous.”

“Big words,” you smiled up at him.

“Indeed,” he smiled back.

Silence fell upon the two of you as you looked at each other. This wasn’t uncommon, though neither of you ever acknowledged it. “What’ll it be like when I walk in?” You broke the silence.

Azriel’s eyes glinted with something predatory. “They’ll be on their knees for you. As any male should be.”

The thrill that went through you had you raising your chin. “Is that so?”

Azriel smiled, all masculine satisfaction. “Did I not just give you a demonstration?”

You smiled coyly despite the butterflies in your stomach. “I suppose.”

Another silence fell, though you had no intention of breaking it this time. Azriel reached to the veil on your face, gingerly tracing the coin above your mouth. You watched as he did, wanting to see what he’d do next –

“(Y/N), we’re leaving in five,” Mor shouted from outside, knocking on your door. You startled, stepping back. You looked back to Azriel. He gave you a nod, then turned and lead the way to meet the rest of the group outside.

~

Upon entering the foyer, you found everyone standing getting ready to winnow. They turned to you as you arrived with Azriel. Cassian let out a wolf whistle, making you laugh. “You’re a knockout,” he said.

You gave him a cheeky raise of your shoulder, grinning at him. Rhys and Feyre were smiling at you, though you knew you wouldn’t be seeing those smiles when they’d ascend the Court of Nightmares throne. “I knew you’d be perfect,” Feyre said.

“It’ll be a good look for Az, too,” Cassian said, wiggling his brows suggestively, making you laugh. A reminder about your intended role for tonight. Not just any Temptress, but Azriel’s.

“Remind me again why I’m assigned to Az?” you asked.

Rhys’s mischievous smile had you immediately regretting the question. “Because you two can just look at each other exactly as you do anyways, and it’ll get the job done.” You glared and gave your High Lord the middle finger, making Feyre and Cassian laugh as Rhys continued to smugly smirk at you.

“Slanderous allegations,” Azriel quipped. You turned to look at him, and he only winked at you with a crooked grin. You went to elbow him, but he easily caught your elbow before impact, returning your arm in place.

“They make it too easy,” Feyre said to Cassian who nodded easily.

“Whatever,” you said.

“Ready?” Mor asked.

You took a deep breath, remembering what Azriel said to you. They’ll be on their knees for you. “Ready.” You took her hand, Azriel took the other, and the world disappeared.

~

You found yourselves in the antechamber leading to the throne room, prompting everyone to put on their subjective masks; the cruel, tyrannical inner circle outsiders believed you all to be. Cassian was to enter first along with Azriel, then Amren, Mor, Nesta, and Elain. Rhys and Feyre would follow, and you’d be the last one in.

Azriel turned to you as everyone prepared themselves. “Remember what I said,” he spoke softly with no trace of humour. “When you walk in, just keep your eyes on me. Don’t worry about anyone else.” You nodded.

A hushed silence overtook the room as each member walked in. When Rhys and Feyre made their way in, you heard vague shifting. They’re kneeling, you realized. As your high lord and lady made their way to the thrones, you walked to the threshold of the throne room, taking it all in.

Someone inside began playing slow, mesmerizing music. Notes from a violin, then the slow, rhythmic beat of drums that you felt in your bones. Your friends flanked the thrones. You remained standing where you were, letting the music wash over you as you watched Feyre and Rhys finally ascend onto their thrones. They sat, though Rhys made no move to address the room. The court remained on their knees, parted on either side of the walkway like a sea.

An energy passes through you that’s equally as nerve-racking as it was thrilling, making you shiver. A siren, you said to yourself. Be a siren. You caught Azriel’s eye watching you from where he stood to the right of Rhys’s throne. Despite the mask he donned, his face cold and calculating, all hard lines and taut jaw, you saw the slightest smirk uplift the corner of his mouth, as if he were saying I told you they’d be on their knees. You steeled your nerves, drawing strength from Azriel. The male you loved so dearly, who called you so many pretty things tonight that you lost count.

You let your body go lax, stepping into the threshold of the room. You followed the beat of the sensual music, letting your hips sway as you walked in, keeping your arms relaxed at your sides. Temptress, you reminded yourself. With all eyes on you, you fell into the necessary headspace and sauntered over to the throne.

When you finally reached the throne, you fell to their feet in an exaggerated curtesy, your skirts fluttering dramatically around you. Only then did Rhys finally allow everyone to stand. “Rise,” he said simply. Everyone did except for you, where you continued to sit on the floor of their thrones, though you did look over your shoulder to the room and found that all eyes remained on you. You adjusted your position with full intention to find a more comfortable seat, turning to face the room. You leaned lazily with your back on the middle of their thrones, extending your feet and making a show of rearranging your skirts over your legs.

It was then that Kier came to address his high lord and lady. They spoke, Kier’s animosity barely concealed, Rhys and Feyre’s unhidden. Kier’s gaze kept flitting back to you in distaste, which you knew your friends noted. “We brought you a gift since you’ve been so obedient lately,” Rhys said. That was your cue.

“Isn’t she lovely?” Feyre asked as you stood.

Kier looked you over, clearly unimpressed, but simply said, “yes. Lovely.”

“Dance for us,” Feyre told you. You obeyed, stepping around Kier like he was a stranger on the street. You made your way to the middle of the room. The music picked up, the rhythm was loud and soothing. You fell into a sway, winding your arms around you gracefully. You dropped your hips rhythmically, following the sound of the drums. Once again, all eyes were on you. The distraction was working, allowing Mor to slip out and retrieve the orb that was needed. Don’t be nervous, you heard Feyre speak in your mind. Just look at how he looks at you.

You dared look back to find Azriel’s gaze between your slow, sensual twirls. Sure enough, he could barely conceal the hunger in his eyes. His head was slightly elevated, giving his eyes a heavy-lidded fall. Bedroom eyes, whether that was part of his mask or not. He’s just playing his role, you replied to Feyre in your mind.

I promise you there’s nothing ingenuine in his look, she whispered back. At that, you matched the look he was giving you, raising your chin as you danced and lazily took him in. But not for too long, as you twirled away, letting the whispers commence. Under his wistful stare, you finished your dance number, the music ending. You remained where you were, still holding everyone’s attention. The court applauded, and you turned to make your way back to the thrones.

You fell back to your previous position at their thrones. Feyre poured a glass of wine for you herself, giving you a pleased smile. You were wonderful.

You drank, letting yourself cool down in the chilly air of the courtroom. Rhys asked for food to be brought out; on his command, tables filled with food appeared, but everyone waited for the inner circle to first take their places. You stood, waited for Rhys and Feyre to sit, then followed your friends. The table laid in front of the throne only had eight seats. You hid your confusion, looking to Cassian as he took his seat. He simply winked at you and gave a small smile. Then it dawned on you. Azriel’s temptress.

You’d be seated in his lap.

Sure enough, Azriel turned to you, silently summoning you over. You walked over and took your seat, sitting on his left thigh, your own thighs falling on either side of his leg. He was so large that even on his lap, you weren’t at his eye level. He brought his arm and lazily wrapped it around your hips. You kept your composure externally, though any bravado from before melted away internally. Though he was your best friend, though affection wasn’t rare between the two of you – hell, he even put your jewelry on you himself earlier – this was certainly new.

Once you’ve adjusted, you feel yourself relax into his chest. Only then does Azriel let his hand fall onto your leg. His hand is substantially warmer than your leg, and he notices this because you feel his shadows gently stroke up your legs in an attempt to warm you. You put your hand over his and squeeze it in silent thanks.

His right hand brought food to your mouth before you could protest. You move your coined veil with your free hand, opening your mouth. He places a grape in your mouth, fingers shamelessly grazing your lips as he did. You don’t stop him. He continues to feed you, and for a moment, you wonder if any element of the alleged masks were truly inhibitory, or if in reality all they did was allow the two of you to be more authentic with each other than you would otherwise dare. A tempting contradiction to mull over as you ate grapes directly off his fingers, relishing in the warmth of his body encapsulating you.  

You continued to eat, occasionally drinking wine between bites. Azriel’s hand resting on your thigh slowly makes its way up your leg, over your hip, and then drags across your abdomen. You sigh quietly at the sensation, only loud enough for him to hear. That sets Kier off. He leans over to a vizier. “He’s hand-feeding his harlot.”

Before you could even turn, you hear Kier sputter. Then you hear glass breaking. You begin to turn, but Azriel stops you by squeezing your waist. “Don’t,” he whispers. You turn to look at him.

You hold each other’s gaze, and he simply brings another grape up to your mouth, which you accept. The sputtering sound turns into outright gagging and coughing. Azriel is choking Kier, you realized. With his shadows. The rest of the court halts their eating to watch Kier struggle to breathe, clawing at his throat while Azriel keeps his eyes on you. Kier manages to wheeze out an apology. Only then do you hear him exhale in relief, breathing raggedly.

You don’t deign to look at Kier, but you do peer over to Rhys. He hadn’t objected to the punishment. “Ever the mouth breather,” he said simply. Everyone returned to their food at that.

You look back to Azriel who was still watching you. He drew lazy circles with his fingers on your abdomen. “It’s just you and me,” he murmured lowly in his baritone voice for only your ears to detect. You nodded once in agreement. Just you and me.

~

Back at the house, everyone was lounging on the couches in the living room, in no rush to get up after all the drinking. You’d removed the diadem upon arrival. “You did such a good job,” Mor praised you. You saluted your friend with two fingers. Everyone was tired at the late hour, but you were still buzzing with energy. Azriel was sitting next to you on your couch, an arm draped behind you on the couch. Whatever leash the two of you had kept on your friendship had been released tonight. Cassian lazily looks over at you and gives you a pointed smile. You just shrug and smile back.

Rhys praises the group on their good work, takes Feyre’s hand, and they head to their room. One by one, everyone follows suit. Cassian and Nesta, then the remaining females. Alone with Azriel, you turn to look at him. In the continuity of this evening, you found him already gazing at you. Sure enough, that hunger you noted in the court of nightmares was waiting for you in his eyes.

“Nice and ravenous,” you joked. He gave a relaxed smile, catching your echo of his earlier words.

“Indeed.” He held your gaze. “You did amazing,” he said more seriously.

“You helped me feel comfortable,” you told him. His hungry eyes burned into your own. You swallowed. “Maybe you can help me out of all these jewels.”

He didn’t so much as blink. “It would be my pleasure.” You get up off the couch and he does as well. You take his hand and lead him to your room.

You turned your faelight on, the rest of the room remaining dark. He came up behind you, placing his hands on your hips. He bent down and places a kiss on your exposed shoulders, trailing the kisses up towards your neck. You let yourself sag into his body, taking off your rings. His hands move up your sides, onto your arms. He repeats his earlier motion of grazing up your arms until he reaches your gold cuffs. He released them without raising his head. You took off your bracelets.

He circled to your front, holding your gaze, and he sank to his knees. Bringing his hands to your knees again, they slowly moved up your legs, cupping your thighs from behind, making you shiver. He reached for your thigh jewelry, unclasped it, and he bent forward to place a kiss where it had been. His hands continued their upward path, making their way to your hips once more. He leaned in closer, placing another kiss, this time on your belly. He pulled you closer to him by the hips, making you gasp as your back arched. He trailed more kisses up your abdomen. You put your hands in his hair, nails grazing his scalp.

He stood once more, making you peer up at him. You caught sight of his dilated pupils. He pulled you to him by the waist, bending forward once more to trail kisses up your neck. When he reached your jaw, your eyes were too heavy to keep open. He finally pressed his lips to yours feverishly kissing you.

He walked the two of you back towards your bed. To your dismay, he broke off the kiss, breathless. “You ate fruit off my fingers,” he rasped. You nodded, dazed. The backs of your knees hit your bed, making you fall back into it. Azriel simply sunk back onto his knees for the third time that night, grasping your knees, and pulling them apart. “I have every intention of also being fed.”

~

I drew inspiration from my culture w the implied bellydancing and attire. :)

taglist:

@iimisty-a​ @feyretopia​ @cityofidek​

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #acotar #azriel fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #azriel spymaster

[forgodsgoddamnsake]

Belly Dancer - 1

Belly Dancer - 1

Harry sat next to Michael on the leather couch with four girls now all around them, Michael was his right hand and his best friend. They are there for each other, in the happinesses and sorrows. They were friends since the day they first met when they only were thirteen years old.

And for that reason, when Michael noticed that Harry was burnt out from all the work he has to go through every day, same routine, same shit, he thought that it would be a good idea for them to see something different. Michael has heard of you through some friends that were like 'wtf did we just watch?' and couldn't shut up about how good you were on that stage. And, knowing Harry, he knew that he would be very pleased to see a different kind of woman.

A woman he will never something like her.

A girl put her around Harry and started mumbling something sexy in his ear, but he ignored her and kept drinking from his glass and huffed.

"Why the long face, H? I told you to leave this fucking attitude out." Michael scoffed, drinking from his cup.

"I am okay, Mike." Harry says.

"No shit? You sure look like it." Michael commented sarcastically.

"What do you want from me now? Want me to put a fucking smile on my face?"

"Yes, please."

"I don't know what I should do with the upcoming deal with the Italians."

"Leave it, H. Not now, we're here to have fun and you look like an ungrateful kid." Michael said, he was sick of Harry and his attitude. He knows that Harry has a lot on his shoulders, but he doesn't seem to know how to let go.

"You know what? Fuck you! I'm out." Harry says angrily and stands up and just like that like it was a cue or something, music blasted through speakers.

Weird music to his ears. He has never heard something like that before, but he didn't care at that moment. Until he head an announcement through the speakers, "The moment you've all been waiting for. Y/N!"

Michael grabbed Harry from his arm and dragged him to the glass wall that showed the stage. Harry took away his arm from his friend and stopped in his tracks.

A woman.

A woman in tanned skin and long hair stood on the stage down there, with golden abaya that showed off her beautiful legs, cleavage, and of course her belly. She had some glitter all over her body. She had a golden anklet. That woman wore a short scarf on her head that only covered a part of her hair.

She swayed her belly up and down in total excitement with such expertise. She used her hair as a tool just like that long cane in her hand that she used to dance with. What really blew him away was when she pulled her back down while standing and held the cane with one hand playing with it all over her body without it touching her.

He has never seen something like that before. He has never loved something so different like that. Her hair made him want to pull on it while fucking her. He wanted to know how she could sway and pop her waist and belly on his dick.

A girl comes next to Harry and whispers, "I could do that, too."

He ignored her and kept his eyes on the girl before him, not leaving his eyes off of her even for a second.

When you were done, you were already used to the hard applause, you returned back to your room at the back. Your assistant got you your mantle and covered you.

You sat on your chair in front of the wide mirror and began cleaning off your makeup after taking off some of the bling you had on your face. Your assistant, Angela, says, "You were amazing today, y/n."

You smile to her and say, "Thank you so much, honey. We need to get ready for our last performance in about another half hour. Can you get me my next suit, please? This abaya is not so comfortable."

"You're gonna wear it now? Isn't it too early?" She asks but does what she's told anyways.

"No, it isn't. I like putting makeup on after wearing my suit, so my makeup doesn't stain my suits." You answer her, drinking water from your bottle.

"Fair enough." Just when she finishes her sentence, you hear a knock on your door.

"Who is it?" She asks before opening the door slightly so whoever outside can't see you.

"Oh yeah of course." You hear her say and opens the door.

Your eyes are still fixed on yourself in the mirror, until you see in it a tall man with beautiful green eyes standing at your door. His eyes also are fixed on you. You turn your head around and look at him, asking in a flat tone, "What?"

"I am Harry. Harry Styles." He says not looking away.

"Okay? I don't do selfies so get out of here." You turn your head again and continue to take off your makeup.

"I'm not here for a selfie. I'm here to tell you that we want an exclusive dance in the VIP lounge." He says, confidently.

"Usually, Sean is the one to tell me that." Sean is the manager of the club, so that doesn't make sense that Harry is the one to tell you that.

"He knows, but I asked him to let me be the one to tell you that." He says like he orders you.

"Well then, no one can say no to work. But, I want Sean to ask me, not some one I don't know." You say, you were really bothered by his smirk that he had all the time he was talking to you so you thought you should be as annoying as he is.

"And what if he doesn't?" He asks with a wider smirk.

You turn your head and raise a brow, "Then no."

"You sure are a tough one." He comments so you stand up and close the door in his face with a bang enough for Angela to jump.

You wear your next suit, not thinking of that bastard anymore until you hear another knock on the door. You huff and tell Angela, "If he is the same fucker tell him to go find someone to fuck him."

But that was Sean, an old man with grey hair and blue eyes. He comes inside and says to you, "Y/N, we want you to skip the second performance to the public and keep it in the VIP lounge for today."

"Sure," You smile at him, "That fucker will be there?"

He giggles and says, "Don't say that as you don't know who he is."

"I don't care, Sean. You shouldn't have let him come in here, we've talked about this. No one is allowed here."

"I know, but we can't say no to him."

"And why is that?"

"Because he's Harry Freaking Styles. He's one of the most powerful men in the whole country so it's not so easy to tell him go fuck yourself without getting a bullet in your head."

"Whatever. I'll be up there in 10 minutes."

You weren't afraid, you are not afraid. You have spent your life afraid of everything and since you took your first step in this country you've swore to god that you'll never let fear in your heart ever again. You knew that Harry was handsome and hot that's for sure, but you weren't going to suck his balls just because he's handsome. If anything, he should be the one sucking yours, if you had any.

You stood right outside the VIP lounge and asked the guy in charge of it to stop the lights until you go in. That was something you asked for every time you were asked to do a private dance in the VIP lounge, you had to surprise them.

You stood in the middle of the room with the lights still off, and raised your arms above your head and raised one side of your waist and then the lights are on again.

The music popped in the lounge, and you see that same smirky face eating you with his eyes. Taking in the new suit you had on, it was silky that showed off your whole back and belly, not so modest. And he loved every inch of it.

He sat there next to another guy with the same expression she got every time someone sees her in one of her suits. You danced like always but with some differences. You made a circle with your waist and interacted with them more than the public, you made your way to the couch they were on and for a second Harry thought you were coming for him, but you took the hands of Michael and made him stand up so he could dance with you.

Michael couldn't dance like you, for sure, but he tried to sway his body and couldn't focus on anything else, especially you leaned your back to his chest. Michael couldn't look to anything else, not even to Harry who was biting his lip from both lust and jealousy.

You kept dancing until the song ended. Michael and the bartender applauded hard enough to show you how much they loved it. Some of the girls out there were so pissed off at you for taking all the attention.

Harry, on the other hand, stood up and asked you, "Why don't you come with me, love?

"Honey, I don't like you." You said.

You made eye contact with Michael and smiled, "I hope to see you soon, cutie."

Then you were out of the lounge.

Harry sat on the couch again, with a smirk on his face.

--

Just when you were about to step foot out of the club you see that fucker again with the same smirk you want to slap it out of his face. You were in white tank top and a short leather skirt. Angela was right beside with a big bag in her hand you when you stopped to look at that smug.

"If you think you can kidnap me, then you should know that's a bad idea." You spat.

"And why is that, love?"

"Because I'll chop off your goddamn dick." You were violent. That's for sure.

"Oh, that could hurt." He smirked again and took a step forward towards you.

"What do you want from me, Harry Styles?"

"I want a private dance, only for me."

"Give it to him," You ordered Angela who handed him a card. "This is the number you can call if you want a private dance."

He looked at the card and then at you, "I really like you."

"And I don't care."

You said before walking towards your car. You drove away and you could still see him in the mirror not taking his eyes off of your car. What was wrong with him?

--

"Harry Styles?! Thank god you're still alive, you should apologize you little bitch." Jessica said.

You were at the apartment you shared with Jessica, you make enough money to buy a whole house now, but you didn't want to leave Jessica, she was your first and only friend when you came to America to seize your opportunity. She had your back when you couldn't find a job, until she finally helped you get one.

Her cousin was one of the three people who own the club and the theatre, and she asked her to give you a chance. From that moment you became famous enough for people to come every day to the club to just watch you dance.

So, you wouldn't just leave Jessica just because you make enough money now. And, now that you're sitting at the dining table next to Jessica at 3 PM eating, you thought that you should tell her about that freak you danced for yesterday.

"Who is he anyways?" You asked, stuffing your face with food.

"All I heard from Lola -Her cousin- is that he is not just a business man, he is powerful."

"And that was enough for you to tell me that I'm lucky that I'm still alive?"

"No, but those powerful people are intimidating."

"I'm not afraid."

"Y/N, I know you now, I know that you fear no one and nothing, but you need to chill a bit."

"Why should I? because he could kill me or something?"

"I hope not, but just become more flexible, maybe he was amazed by your dancing and liked you enough to get you in his bed."

"He asked me to go with him, Jess! I don't sleep around, and you know that, I have to have this long face for anyone that thinks for a second they can stuff their faces in my titties." You said and she bursts into laughing at the top of her lungs.

"Okay, I know that, but-" She was interrupted by your phone ringing, it was Sam, the one you hired to take care of any business outside the club.

"Sorry, Jess," You apologized before taking the phone, "Yes, Sam, how're you? What? HOW MUCH!? Okay, today 11 PM, set everything up with Sean, I don't want him to be all grumpy. Bye." And with that you hung up.

"What was that all about?" She asked drinking her juice.

You looked at her wide eyed, "That fucker asked Sam if I could dance at the parties he has tonight and for the upcoming week. He wants me for an entire week to stay at his mansion up the hill in a private part of it."

"Wow, the same fucker we were just talking about?" She asked and you nodded.

--

You had to go, there was no way out, the money was good. You packed clothes and suits, you were going to stay there for about a week so you could use as many suits as you wanted. Angela was sat right beside you on the passenger seat in your car as you drove to his mansion, Sam had sent you a location. The drive was silent, and you weren't nervous, you'd been doing this for over a year now so you were confident. You drove with one hand until you pulled over right in front of this giant mansion. Angela gasped when she put her eyes on it, but you rolled your eyes and stepped out of the car to get your bags out. Angela followed you without taking her eyes off of the mansion, she helped you with the bags with her mouth open.

"Fuck it, snap out of it, Angela!" You said, walking towards the mansion.

A man in a black suit was standing at the door of the mansion with a smile on his face, you smiled back. When you got closer to him he took the bag from you, "Hello, I'm Jack, I'll be at your service for your whole stay."

"Hello, Jack. I'm Y/N and this is Angela, my assistant."

"I know you Ms.Y/L/N, Mr. Styles told me about you. He was very excited to have you." He said letting you in the mansion.

It was huge, white. Everything was white except from the art hanging on the walls and some cushions. Jack escorted you to the elevator in the mansion and pressed on the higher floor.

"This floor is gonna be yours for your whole stay, it has its own kitchen and bathrooms so you're going to be as comfortable as possible." He said and you couldn't help but smile at Angela who couldn't close her mouth.

The elevator doors open and you step inside to see a wide floor with an open kitchen and two bedrooms with a large living room.

"Here is the kitchen as you see, it has everything you need to make a meal, but if you need anything you can always call me and I'll be at your service." He walked you to the living room, "This is the living room as you see. There's TV, mini-fridge, and everything you might need."

You nodded at him as he walked you to a room and opened the door to a large room, "This is our room?" You asked.

"No, ma'am, this is Angela's room, it's got everything you might need, miss." He told her and she took a step inside with wide smile on her face.

He walked you to another room, opened the door and FUCK. It was huge with a king-sized bed. The room had cream paint and white sheets, a couch and TV.

"Here is your room. You also have a private bathroom besides the one down the hall. Again Ms. Y/L/N, if you ever need anything you can call me. Mr. Styles has strict instructions of us taking care of you two."

You smiled at him thankfully, but couldn't help but ask, "Where is Harry?"

"We don't know that, unfortunately, but I'm sure he's gonna be here at 12 AM. He may need to speak to you about the themes of the parties he's throwing here." He said letting go of your bags.

You nodded at him.

"I should go now, here is this little thing I can't remember the name of, you press a button and you can speak to me directly." He pointed at this thing on the wall that looked like the thermostats.

You nodded again and thanked him before he left. You couldn't help but notice that your room has a balcony, you love balconies. Wherever you were, you could leave everything and stay in the balcony looking at everything around you.

When you entered the balcony, you could see a wide, long green grass, it almost looked like a park, except from the large pool that was in the middle.

You sighed.

You don't know why, but everything was too much for you, life was too much.

You felt alone even if there were a hundred people around you, and when you were alone, you felt empty. Maybe it's because you swore that no one can take any place in your heart again. No one can get this luxury of breaking your heart. You had to stand on your jelly feet and throw everything out of your life.

You remembered that day you ran away from your past and came here, like it was yesterday. But, it wasn't yesterday, and you must stay on your feet standing tall.

You heard a ringing sound coming from your room, it was this thing on the wall, you pressed on it and you heard the voice of Jack, "Ms. Y/L/N, would you like me to make you a meal? You must be starving."

"Jack, please call me y/n, I'm not used to Ms. whatever, and yes please, I'm sure Angela is starving. Thanks."

--

Everything was fine, you stayed in your room watching tv and gossiping with Jessica about Harry's mansion. That was until you hear ringing and Jack's voice said, "Y/N, Mr. Styles is waiting for you by the pool."

You stood up, get dressed in one of your huge sweatshirts and short black shorts, you pull your hair up in a messy bun. You step outside of your room, and find Angela eating popcorn on the couch in the living room.

"If you keep eating those, you're gonna pop like them." You smirked at her and she stuck her tongue out to you.

You were in the elevator and making your way towards the pool, it was kind of a long walk until you could see his tall figure in a black suit standing in front of the pool drinking wine. There were tables and chairs but he was standing focusing on the water.

You stood there for a moment before making your way to one of the chairs by a table and sit, putting your leg over the other.

"Look who it is, Mr. Gatsby!" You smirked.

He turned around and smiled at you, his eyes could revive people from death. He had a glass of wine in his hand just like you suspected.

“Mr. Gatsby? Why did you call me that?” He asked as he took a seat on one of the chairs on the same table.

“Mr. Gatsby was handsome, he had a rare smile, just like you.” You said with no smile.

“I take that as a complement, should I?”

“I don’t care, honey, I’m spelling facts. I like telling people what I’m thinking about them. Honesty is the key as you say here.” You bite on your bottom lip.

“I appreciate that this is the thing on your mind, not something else.”

“Well, yesterday I thought you were a dick head, well, I still think so, but I appreciate what you did.”

“What exactly?”

“That you didn’t cross the line even more, and called Sam instead of getting my number and call me.”

“And how could I get your number, love?” He smirked; he loved how smart you sounded.

“Oh, come on! We’re adults here, we both know that you could get my number, easily.”

“I like you even more now.”

That was true, he loved smart women, and you were smart and challenging.

“Let’s get back to business, you booked me for a week. Jack told me that you wanted to discuss the themes of your parties. Here I am.”

He hums and put his glass on the table, “Do you want to drink something?” He asked you as he looked at his smart watch.

“Tea with milk, please, no sugar.” You answered without expression.

He smiled and then got more comfortable in his chair as one of his servants came with everything on like he was standing at the back of your head.

You thanked the servant and took off your leg from the other out of respect, that was how you were raised, and Harry noticed it.

“Okay, love, we have five parties, each of them may include different people, each of them has a different theme, in each of them I want you to perform two times.” He said as he poured more wine in his glass. “Your tea is getting cold.”

“I don’t like my hot drinks hot enough to burn my tongue.” You smiled at him politely, “I need to know each theme so I can choose the right suit. Also, can I choose my own songs? I can’t dance to some rap or whatever the fuck you people listen to.”

He laughed, he thought you were funny, “Of course, darling, I’ll tell you everything you need to know and you can choose your own songs.”

He looked down and saw that you have an anklet on, different from the one you wore at the club, he fucked you in his head with the anklet on enough times already.

“Can I ask you a question?” He asked, he was surprised actually that he was being polite, maybe because he saw that you were so polite that he couldn’t be a dick head anymore with you.

“Of course.”

“Where are you from?”

You smiled to yourself; you hear that question too many times.

“I am not from here, I immigrated to the USA two years ago. It doesn’t matter where I’m from, I want to forget all about it.” You stopped smiling and looked him in the eyes, those green eyes, “Now, can I ask you for a favor?”

“Yeah, anything you want, beauty.” He answered.

“Could you taste my tea to see if it’s not so hot so I could drink it?”

He smiled at you, he didn’t know what to think of you, you were a lot of things all at once. He saw you being so violent to him, so polite to the servants, potty tongue, yet so cute that you can’t take a hot drink. He was curious.

He did what you asked him to, it was now cold enough for you to drink, he saw that you sipped from the same place he sipped from. You were beautiful before him, your hair is shiny, your eyes are wide enough for him to see that color of them, your skin seemed so soft, your smell stuck up his nose. You dragged him to you, not even realizing it.

He coughed, trying to shake away the tension building in his pants, “You’ll get to know each theme the day before the party. If you want to get new suits you could only reach to Jack and he’ll do whatever you want.”

“Thanks, but no thanks, if those are your rules then so be it. I have my own designer to take care of that. I need to go inside to sleep before tomorrow, Harry. Could you, please, tell me what is the theme of tomorrow’s party?” You rolled your eyes.

“Black. Only black is allowed.” He kind of ordered.

“Okay then.” You drank the last bit of your tea and stood up, you walked your way to the mansion, but only a few steps until you stopped and looked around and said, “I don’t get disgusted easily. Good night, Gatsby.”

You smiled and left.

--

Harry sat in his bed with a girl sleeping next to him right after he gave her a good fuck thinking of you. Gatsby. Your face while smiling stuck in his head enough to take in every little detail, beauty, and flaw. He has never seen anyone so intimidating, yet so polite.

He felt like he wanted to fuck you, yes. But he felt something more. Curiosity.

He stood up in his boxers, looking at the ceiling, you were right on the floor above him, he wondered what you were doing.

--

Next morning you called Jack and asked him if there was a gym nearby, he told you that there was one on the second floor, so you got in your tight leggings and sports bra that hugged your breasts perfectly, having big ones made life harder for you.

You pulled your hair in a bun and brought your water bottle with you and went down to the second floor and explored until you found a room full of gym equipment.

You did some stretching first, and then you heard the door open as you were about to do some squats in front of the huge mirror. You saw Harry getting in, wearing black shorts and totally bare chest.

“Good morning, love.” He said and took a look at you.

“Good morning.” You responded before minding your own business.

You didn’t look at him much, you stopped yourself from doing that, you completely knew that these kinds of men are the ones that get girls throwing themselves at all the time. And that was not something you intended to be, you knew that you were special, and no man could ever make you fall at his feet no matter how hot he was.

“How many languages do you speak, y/n?” He asked out of no where and you didn’t bother look at him, but you could see him warming up.

“That is a random question. I speak English, Arabic, and Italian.” You answered with a blank face and held some weights before going on with your squats again.

“Wow, that is incredible!” he said looking at you, he never let his eyes away anyways. He noticed that you didn’t look at him not even for once, that kind of bothered him.

You didn’t answer to that, and he felt like you hated his guts and he had no idea why. He got closer to you and stood behind you, “You’re doing that wrong baby.”

He put his hands on the weights you carried and that’s when you stood again and turned around with the weights still in your hands, you felt like you could hit him with them.

“Let’s set things straight, Harry. I know you like me; I don’t like you. You bother me, I’ve been doing this since I was fifteen and I don’t need an English boy to tell me how to do things. I don’t like men who always get what they want, because I don’t get what I want. Does that make me a weird, envious bitch? Maybe yes. But I don’t care. Stay out of my way, I’m not looking for a fuck.” You said and lift the weights to his chest and he automatically held them.

With that, you left the gym room and he stood there with an open mouth.

--

“Harry, what is this fucking sudden obsession over a dancer?” Michael asked while sitting in the chair by Harry’s desk.

“It’s not an obsession, Mike. That girl makes my head boil!” He shouted lighting a cigarette.

“Why’s that? She’s just not into you, she told you clearly that she’s not looking forward to getting fucked by you, that’s all. Can’t you really accept that?”

“It’s not that, Mike. FUCK!” He threw the cigarette in the ashtray and stood up, “She wouldn’t even look at me, like I’m a fucking rat or something. Does she really think I am that bad person?”

“Maybe it’s because you gave her the feeling that she was some fuck toy.”

“She is not! I really want to get to know her, she sounds so fucking smart, Mike. Apart from her being incredibly sexy, she sounds like she knows everything about me which she doesn’t. I just want her to talk to me, even look at me.”

“Are you having a crush on her?”

“Isn’t that obvious, you little fuck?”

“Already? It’s only been three days.” Michael said and Harry glared at him.

“Alright, you should have a conversation with her, get to know her, you know what? You should ask her for dinner.” Michael suggested and Harry thought about it.

--

You were getting ready for the party, and you had a surprise for the host. You didn’t hate him, but he was just like what you said, a man that got whatever he wanted, and you hated men that had everything. It makes you feel like an object around them.

You heard a knock on your door and Angela went to open it enough for you to not be seen.

“Can I speak with y/n?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Styles. She’s getting ready, you could speak from over here.” Angela apologized truthfully.

“Y/N, are you ready? I want you down there in fifteen minutes, please.” He added that please just to sound nicer.

“She says okay. Excuse me, Mr. Styles, I’m sorry.” Angela said closing the door in his face softly.

‘Why the fuck is she avoiding me?’ He thought to himself.

He went down again by the pool to greet his guests who all wore black, he has set a small stage by the pool so you could feel as special as you wanted.

People were talking and giggling, talking money, talking shit Harry couldn’t care less about. His black suit suffocated him, he hated suits, but he had to wear them.

Your words kept ringing in his head,

“I don’t like men who always get what they want, because I don’t get what I want. I don’t like men who always get what they want, because I don’t get what I want.”

He had this urge to talk to you, to let you know that he no longer wanted anything to do with you if you didn’t want. He wanted to just speak to you.

From afar he saw Jack that nodded at him as a cue that you were ready to enter.

Harry cleared his throat when saw you entering in your black mantle and heading to the small stage. He spoke loudly as the music stopped so everyone could hear, “Thank you everyone for coming. I’d like to introduce to you my surprise,” He pointed at you and you smiled at them. “This is the amazing dance y/n, who is super talented and super annoying. I can guarantee that you’re going to watch something you’ll never forget.”

And with that everyone applauded before the music you chose started. Again, weird songs to the people here.

You gave them your back and just at the right time you dropped your mantle. Harry’s eyes widened as he looked at you in a red suit that barely covered you, you had a small waist accessory on, a golden anklet.

You started your performance which was different from what Harry saw before. Just in the middle of the song you made your way down to the audience and shook your hips and hit one of men with them, he laughed and automatically started dancing with you. You made your way to Harry whose eyebrows were furrowed at you, you enjoyed how bothered he looked that you didn’t keep to the theme of the party.

But he couldn’t stay mad as you gave him your back and danced your way back to him almost touching his chest, not stopping your belly from swaying or your hips from popping for a second. That was when you pulled your hair and threw it on his shoulder, he almost smelled it. Then, you pulled your back down on his chest, he got a very nice view of your breasts, which you shook while looking in his eyes from your position.

You took his hand and put it on your waist as you started swaying that part of your waist so his hand could go wherever your waist was going. He smirked and put his mouth right above your ear, “You’re giving me mixed signals, love.”

“I am a lioness, Gatsby, might get used to it.”

You pulled away from him and started dancing again with other people.

Lioness? What the fuck does that mean?

#harry styles smut #harry styles #couple #harry #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry x reader #smut #harry smut

[alphabetboyluvr]

bad decisions - jjk | thirteen

When you open your eyes, you avoid looking towards the mirror. You look down, look away. Jungkook notices. He nudges the side of your head with his own. Realigns it. Encourages. "Watch." He speaks quietly, the dulcet tone of his purr just loud enough for you, but untraceable to anyone outside the room. He doesn't want Jimin to hear. Doesn't want Jimin to know. It's not that he was lying when he said Jimin wouldn't care—he genuinely believes it'd be no issue, especially with context provided—it's just that he hasn't figured out how to explain it.   'Oh, the girl you shagged a few months ago? We're friends. Pretty good friends, actually. And I'm touching her boobs to help her get over a fear. Totally normal.'

Bad Decision #13 - Work of Art

warnings: jungkook discovers boobs! we rejoice! wahooo!! okay so this entire chapter is basically titty worship (no titty sucking (sad)). lots of paint. curious art. shower (again) mutual masturbation (for realsies this time) jaykay aka my dream man. the chess plot device is born! the mirror kink is also born! WE THRIVE!!

soundtrack: vibez- zayn

wc: 11.8k

bd total wc: 370k (on-going)

minors dni | wattpad | series masterlist |

"Why did you write it like that?"

"Like what?" you say, coming to sit beside Jungkook at a pair of easels towards the back of the room. The last few tasks were carried out by the pair of you, Jungkook insisting on helping despite the fact he had no clue really what to do. You'd ended up asking him to move a couple of boxes you couldn't reach just to appease his need to lend a hand.

He looks at your bird once more, and holds it open for you to read again. You knock your head to the side and shrug.

"Guess it's just how I feel about it."

"Like screaming?"

"Kind of," you laugh. It's written in just the same way as the last one - full capital letters, zero context, and more exclamation points than any one person should use. "I guess it's like... a big one for me?"

"How big are we talking?" Jungkook asks as he looks at it again. It's just a single word, but he knows there's more to it than meets the eye. There always is with you.

You pull one of your feet up to the chair and wrap your arms around your knee. The apron you'd been wearing earlier is up on a hook, and Jungkook finds the simplicity of your outfit all very intriguing. You're monochromatic, which isn't much of a surprise, in a large white shirt and black slacks. The caps of your hightops peek out from the hem of your trousers, and a satin scrunchie is around your wrist instead of in your hair.

You're lacking a little sparkle. There's still some across your lashline, and little specks on your skin that your makeup remover hadn't managed to get, but what with the paint and the two showers you've had since the paint party, there's really not all that much left.

He wonders if there's any glitter glue in the art supplies. Thinks you should just use that instead. You're really not quite yourself without it.

"My ex was a tittie guy," you say, and Jungkook's eyes widen as if he'd forgotten the topic of conversation. You laugh. "Is it really that much of a surprise? Ass guys are hardly gonna go for me."

"Your ass is fine," Jungkook says. He means it as a compliment, but realises 'fine' isn't the way to ever really describe a woman's assets—and so he corrects himself. "Good, I mean. Your ass is good."

There's a look of disgust on your face as you question why on earth he's been looking at your ass, which causes him to roll his eyes. There really is no winning with you.

"I'm an ass guy," he shrugs.

"Doesn't give you any right to look at it."

"Oh give over," he laughs. "It's literally just a body part. No different to me looking at, I don't know... your wrist. Something like that."

"Well, it depends," you argue back. "Are you into wrists?"

Regretfully, the answer is yes.

"I don't know!" Jungkook protests when you grill him for how the fuck he can be 'into' wrists. "They're just dainty! And pretty! I don't know! It's not my fault."

You narrow your eyes, and hide your exposed wrist behind your knee. He looks at you with a poorly hidden smile, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek. His lip ring always dances along his peachy bottom lip when he does so, and it makes you laugh - but you're still feigning disgust.

In all honestly, you like your wrists. Would put them in your top five for your physical attributes. Completely understand why he would be into wrists, just like you're into forearms. You like arms that feel safe.

Kind of like his.

But still, he's an ass guy.

"See, this is why you and I would never work," you tell him, and nod to the piece of paper he's still holding, adorned with a singular scribble:

!!!!! TITS !!!!!

"We want different things," you clarify. "You're after a good ass, I'm after a guy who knows how to handle a pair of tits."

"Hey! That's not fair. I never said I didn't know how to handle them," he scoffs - although now he comes to think about it, he's not sure he actually does. "Like, sure, maybe my exes have all had great asses, but they all had a pair of tits, too. I'm not opposed to a pair of tits."

"Yeah, but there's a pair of tits, and a pair of tits, yanno?" You say, using your hands to really emphasise the point. "Anyway my ex really liked them."

"So?"

"So, I really liked that he really liked them," you shrug. It's painfully obvious to you, but Jungkook is still a little confused. "I just... The idea of someone else doing what he did to them just... makes me wanna run, yanno?"

"The fuck did he do them?" Jungkook laughs.

"Nothing obscene," you smile, though when you think about it, perhaps 'obscene' is the only way to describe how much he enjoyed them. "I guess it's more so that it was always a part of sex? Most guys I've been with pick and choose whenever they want to deal with them, but with him..."

You don't mean to trail off, but fuck. You're thinking about Seokjin, how his plump lips would trail down your throat. He'd inhale the scent of your perfume and fucking whine, only stopping to latch himself to your nipples. Would spend more time on your tits than he would any other part of your body. Spent so long once that he made you orgasm from the simulation of it all alone.

And so now they're off limits. It doesn't matter who it is. The second someone reaches for your bra, you shake your head, reposition their hands, and pretend you hate your tits being touched. It's not like it's an unreasonable lie. You know it's one of Danbi's least favourite forms of foreplay. If anything, she'd be a good match for Jungkook. In fact, now you come to think about it, she's got a cracking ass from all of her dog-walking.

Maybe you should cool the deal off. It's highly likely they're compatible. Fucking around with Jungkook would only complicate things in the future if they discovered that themselves - but you know Taehyung's interested in her, and Jungkook hasn't given any indication of interest further than friendship with her.

It's not like this is anything beyond friendship, you reason with yourself.

Jungkook stays quiet as you work through your thought process. Assumes you're skimming through traumatic memories. Doesn't realise you're actually playing matchmaker in your head for him and your best friend.

"But with him?" He asks.

You're drawn from your thoughts. Feel a little guilty. Wonder if you should really be doing this - not for your sake, but for his.

"Are you sure about this?" You ask, ignoring his question entirely.

"About?"

"Doing my birds?"

He purses his lips - and now he feels guilty, too. Funny, how you're both more concerned about one another than yourselves.

"It's entirely your choice," he says. Doesn't want you to feel pressured into it - but it just makes you feel like he feels pressured into it.

"No, but, that just feels to me as if you don't want to," you tell him. "And like, that's totally fine, if you don't, but-"

"Byeol," he says all rather plainly. "I'm the one who suggested it. If I didn't want to I wouldn't be here right now, would I? I sought you out. I came here. This is all on me."

The worry on your features softens, and he's pleased to see you smile again no matter how subtle it may be.

"Only thing I will say is that I don't actually know what 'exclamation point, exclamation point, exclamation point, exclamation point, exclamation point, tits, excla'"—

"Kook, you don't have to say every single exclamation point."

"Right," he nods. "Well, that. I don't know what that exactly entails."

And truth be told, nor do you. So you just sigh. Press your lips together a little tighter than usual. Think about it for a moment. Draw a blank. Furrow your brows.

Jungkook looks just as perplexed as you. He's looking away, trying to find inspiration in the room around him—and when his eyes land on the 'gallery' wall where there are imitations of famous works, an idea comes to mind.

"So this is all about separating physical acts from emotional intimacy, right?" He says, and when you nod, he continues. "So what if we do something that involves"— he laughs, because he's a child. —"Touching your tits"—

"Real mature."

"Shut up. We'll do something that involves touching your tits," he has to pause so that he doesn't laugh, but you're grinning too. Just as immature as he is. "But something that isn't sexual at all."

"Alright," you muse. "I'm listening."

"You got any black paint?"

You narrow your eyes. Turn your nose up a little. Question if he's lost all of his brain cells. "Jungkook, this is an art cafe."

"I didn't wanna just assume," he feigns offence. "Are there security cameras in this place?"

"Only by the front entrance. None into the studio area."

"Okay, good. Go get some black paint and I'll get the blinds."

"No blinds," you say, nodding over the windows. "Chiffon curtains. If we turn the main lights off and just keep the lamps on, it should all be obscured. Let's just... not be too close to the windows—and what's the paint for?"

"Will tell you in a bit," he says as he heads to the windows. "Chop, chop, Byeol. We've got a fear to overcome."

You stay as you are for a moment, watching him with unrivalled wonder. There's an enigmatic energy to him that makes it seem as if he's the one constantly covered in glitter, not you. It's quite alarming that this is Jungkook operating at half capacity. His confidence was knocked quite considerably after his heart was broken, and he's yet to recover. You know this. Know that's what his birds are all about. Know that once you've worked through them with him, he'll be an unstoppable force of nature.

In the time you've known him, he's been nothing but an angel. Cocky? Yes. A little petulant? Make that incredibly petulant. And yet he's a joy to be around. Shines without the need for artificial sparkles. You envy it. Wish you could emulate it.

It's as you're getting the paint, and a few extra supplies that you'll figure you'll need - some brushes, some washcloths - that Jungkook begins to explain himself. He's drawing the curtains shut, glancing over at you every few words just to check you're paying attention.

"So I saw a video the other day - something to do with easy Halloween crafts, don't ask - and there are two options for you. One of them is quite literally painting your tits and pressing it against a canvas"—

"You are not painting my tits."

"Noted. The other one was way more family-friendly," he says, before he mulls it over and changes his mind. "Kinda. Maybe. It's a skeleton hand shirt."

"Okay..."

"It's super simple, one person covers their hands in paint and basically just grabs the other persons tits"—

"Does that mean I can grab yours too?"

"I don't have tits, I have incredibly defined pecks," he states rather sharply. "Please rephrase the question, Byeol."

You just grin. "Can I grab your tits?"

"No."

"Boring."

"Look," he smiles as he walks over to the easels where you'd been sat before. He turns the chair and sits on it backwards, arms resting over the back of it. There's a casualness to the way in which he carries himself. One that you quite enjoy. "This is a quick, easy and totally platonic way for you to have your tits touched, and it not be sexual at all."

"It'll just ruin my shirt."

"Or not," he says as he nods up to the wall where canvas sizes are displayed. There's also a plain tote bag and white tee pinned to the wall, still up from a promotion put on during the back-to-school season. It had been Hoseok's job to take them down, but he'd just broken up with his girlfriend at the time and had spent the entire week face down in the back room - getting him to do anything had been impossible - and so they remain as they were. "Would your boss notice if one went missing?"

You shake your head. Your boss really has no clue about the day-to-day goings on.

Still, you're hesitant. "If I get fired"—

"Then I'll fire Yeonjun and you can have his job," Jungkook bullshits. If he was gonna fire anyone, Yeonjun would be the last to go. "C'mon, you gotta stop stressing the small stuff, Byeol."

You're making excuses. You know you are, and so does he.

"Can we at least do it at your place?" You ask. It feels rude to invite yourself to his apartment, but it's honestly probably where you feel most comfortable. It's where the birds are, and it feels like a sanctuary for your fears. When done in the confines of his room, you're able to shut them away and never think about them again - at least not until you return.

Jungkook thinks it over. He's got no problem with it, just isn't sure if Jimin is in. He tells you as such and is met with a shrug.

"If he's in, he's in," you say. "We can just say we're working on planning an event for Tae's exhibition, say that I'm using you for cheap labour."

"Oh shit yeah," Jungkook gasps, suddenly reminded of the fact Taehyung had been here with a purpose. "How did it go? You think your boss will approve."

You nod. "Don't see why not. It's a solid pitch and we haven't held an exhibition in a while. I have some contacts saved up from our last couple of shows so can get together a guest list for the opening night."

It's more than Taehyung would have hoped for. The painting cafe is unassuming, in a way, which makes it a great underdog location for hosting such events.

"Sorry to have sent him here without warning," Jungkook adds. "I wasn't even sure if you did things like that."

"Not often," you admit. "I really enjoy them, though. I'm always keen for more."

The pair of you gather up your things and head back to Jungkook's place, talking about his friends, and their careers. You learn Taehyung is an artist by night, but a teaching assistant by day, which makes his love for arts and crafts all the more sweeter, you decide. Jimin works at a local interior design firm, which suddenly makes so much sense considering the books you remember being on his desk when you were bent over it.

Namjoon works at the local off-branch of the national paper, with a focus on environmental reporting, which is how he'd met Yoongi, who works as a sustainable carpenter, specialising in local woods and materials. Running his own studio, Mins, he'd done a promotional interview a few years back around the time it opened, and had then introduced Namjoon to the rest of the boys.

Their friendships run deep, and it's nice that Jungkook is so willing to share that part of his life with you. The way he sees it, you're well on your way to becoming a part of the group, too.

When you arrive at Jungkook's place, he enters first.

The shower is running, loud enough to obscure any noise of his arrival, so he ushers you in and straight to his room. The sneaking around is getting a little old already, but he figures soon enough it will be commonplace for you to hang out with the both of them.

Jimin isn't naive to your friendship, he just isn't aware quite how friendly you've become.

And so you keep your voices down, even when the pair of you are trying your hardest not to laugh, hands covered in paint, neither of you wanting to be the one who goes first. He's in a black shirt, so your hands are covered in white paint. You're in white, so his hands are coated in a layer of black paint instead.

It's stupid and it's juvenile, but also incredibly sweet. You appreciate how much Jungkook tries to ease you into things. Baby steps.

"No, no," you whisper. "I'll go first. On you. Easier that way."

He knows it will make it no more difficult nor easy no matter who goes when, but he understands what you're saying. It will make you feel more comfortable. Of course, he obliges.

"Stand behind me," he says quietly. "Can you see in the mirror?"

"Not really," you say. His back is broad and he's obviously far taller than you, which pretty much obscures the entire mirror. If you lean around, you can see part of it, but it makes it harder for your to get an equal placement on his chest.

"Okay, just stand straight. I'll guide you."

The way he knocks your hands into position, mostly because his are also covered in paint, is just as gentle as the tone of his voice is.

"Three, two, one," he counts down. "Now press."

You do as you're told and are confronted with potentially the firmest pecks you've ever laid your hands upon. Sure, Seokjin had a body built like a God, but Jungkook? Jesus Christ. He must be something entirely... unhuman.

"Anddd pull away," he whispers. The shirt sticks a little bit, but as your hands peel off, Jungkook smirks. "Your hands are so small."

You take great offence to this for absolutely no reason other than to bicker with him. "Says you!"

"Sorry?"

"You don't exactly have massive hands," you goad him, seeing if you can get a rise out of him, and as if by magic—

"Turn the fuck around, Byeol," he says, almost forgetting the volume control. You do as you're told, grinning like the smug little bitch you are. "Don't have massive hands? I swear you say shit just to piss me off."

"Who me?" You feign innocence. "Never."

"Yes, you," he laughs, but he makes no attempt to reciprocate the shirt creation. Instead, he holds back. Wants to make sure you're okay with it. You tell him you are, but he still doubles down on confirmation. "If it's too much at any point, just say."

You nod. Wonder if he can see the beat of your heart running through your veins. He can't. But he can see your eyes in the mirror, and recognise the trepidation they're drowning in.

"You ready?"

And again, you nod. Exhale. "Ready."

He's tentative in his approach, palms wide, fingers outstretched. He lets his palms rest on the sides of your chest first. You stop breathing for a moment.

"You okay?" He checks, to which you nod. "Okay, Byeol. We're going at your pace. The second it's too much, you let me know, okay?"

He waits for your go-ahead, and then lets his fingers squeeze into the softness of your chest. He sort of assumed he'd eclipse them like he always has done with his former partners, but he doesn't quite manage it with you. It takes him by surprise. Stops him in his tracks. Makes you nervous.

"Kook?"

Whatever trance he's in, he snaps out of it. Realigns his focus. "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," you nod. "Are you?"

"Yeah, yeah," he parrots back. "Just being careful."

"It's fine," you smile. "I'm not a porcelain doll—and this is fine, actually."

"It is?"

"Mhmm. This isn't half as bad as I thought it would be."

"You're welcome."

You laugh, and tell him to shut up. He squeezes ever so gently around your chest, and as much as you hate to admit it, a fucking moan is lodged in your throat. You don't let it out. Don't want him to know it feels electric having his hands on you like this. God, it's nice. It's good. Comforting. That's what surprises you the most.

You've spent so long avoiding contact like this, that you had forgotten why you liked it so much in the first place.

In fact, you find yourself pouting ever so slightly when he pulls away, revealing two black handprints cradling your tits. His is the reverse, white paint on a black shirt.

"See," he smiles. "Told you it was cool. When they're dry, we can go in with markers and outline the skeleton shapes."

The pout on your lips as you look at him is sweet, eyes full of wonder. He thinks he's only ever seen you like this when you're drunk. It's all hazy, and it's like the glitter that's normally on your cheeks is in your pupils instead.

Silence resumes in his room, both of you conscious of Jimin milling around in the kitchen. Jungkook tells you to take the shirt off —"be careful, don't let the paint touch anywhere else"— so that it can dry properly.

It's as you're both standing there half-naked with your backs to one another, that he's caught off guard.

"Let's do it."

"Hmm?"

"Let's do it," you repeat. "That first idea. The canvas. I packed one just in case and I... I didn't think we'd need it - but it wasn't entirely horrible, and-I-think-I-wanna-see-if-maybe-"

"Byeol," Jungkook laughs, cutting you off, but doesn't turn around to face you. He's still trying to be as respectful as he can be. "Breathe. If you wanna do it, we can. No biggie on my part."

"It's a biggie on my part," you say quietly.

Jungkook frowns. Doesn't like how vulnerable you sound. "I know. It's okay. We can make it not a biggie."

Your mind races at a mile a minute. You've not let anyone other than Seokjin touch your bare chest in such a long time. The idea of Jungkook doing it now makes you feel nervous, but you're ready for it. Ready to feel renewed. Ready to finally fucking let go.

"How do you want to do this?" You ask, because one decision is enough for you. You'd rather let him be in the driver's seat, now. Leave your destination unknown. Leave it up to him. You're just here for the journey. Here for the ride.

"Can I turn around?"

"Yeah," you say. You don't mind him seeing you like this - you're shirtless, but you still have a bra on. He takes a second to look at your back; how your spine trails down it. Wonders if there are dimples at the bottom of it. They'd be hidden by your trousers now, and he doesn't really remember checking after the paint party.

He shakes his head, ridding himself of the thoughts, as he heads to the curtains and draws one of them shut. The other curtain remains open, but neither of you will be standing in front of it, so he doesn't think it matters all that much.

Jungkook comes to stand behind you, turning you to face the mirror. His hands are on your shoulders, still a little paint-ridden, but nothing that bothers you.

"So I'm thinking," he says quietly, eyes on yours in the reflection as he toys slightly with the bra straps over your shoulders. "That this comes off."

You swallow so hard that Jungkook thinks you might choke. You don't.

But you also nod.

"Is that a yes?" He checks for consent.

"It's a yes."

His hands are slow as they stroke down your back. He's not really thinking. Just working on auto-pilot. This isn't about him. It's all about you. What you need. What you want.

"Then, I think we need more paint," he says, his fingers working to unclasp your bra. You feel the tension ping and release, and you think you might have a heart attack. He notices the change in your breathing. "If you need to stop, you just say, okay? Tell me okay?"

"Okay," you nod, knowing you're in the safest hands you possibly could be.

"What will you say? Give me a word. Something obscure. A safe word."

You shake your head and shrug, trying to think. "I don't know - chess?"

Jungkook laughs, knowing exactly where your eyes must have been focused - on the shelf by his desk, where his chess set sits undisturbed. "Okay. Chess."

"Chess."

"Just say it, and I'll stop."

You're silent as he reaches over for the paint, and tells you to toss your bra on his bed. The click of the acrylic bottle opening and closing beats in time with your heart. Jungkook's warming the paint between his hands, trying to make this as comfortable for you as he possibly can.

You're entirely bare from the waist up, and don't take much comfort in the fact that he is too. It feels a hell of a lot scarier for you, and you both know it.

"I'm gonna touch you now," he says, and waits for you to nod. You close your eyes. Bite on your lip. Wait for the contact—and when his palms softly connect, your brows knit together. Jungkook watches on, apprehensive. It almost looks like you're in pain, but as he begins to spread the paint over your breasts, they ease. "That okay?"

You nod. "It's okay."

When you open your eyes, you avoid looking towards the mirror. You look down, look away - and Jungkook notices. He nudges the side of your head with his own. Realigns it. Encourages. "Watch."

He speaks quietly, the dulcet tone of his purr just loud enough for you, but untraceable to anyone outside the room. He doesn't want Jimin to hear. Doesn't want Jimin to know.

It's not that he was lying when he said Jimin wouldn't care - he genuinely believes it'd be no issue, especially with context provided—it's just that he hasn't figured out how to explain it. The girl you shagged a few months ago? We're friends. Pretty good friends, actually. And I'm touching her boobs to help her get over a fear. Totally normal.

Jimin's fully aware of the friendship. Knows you've been in the apartment a handful of times. Jungkook never hides it from it; just tells him after the occasion. He doesn't mind.

In fact, Jimin quite likes your company whenever he bumps into you. Is quite glad you're not weird around him just because you've had sex. If anything, it gives him high hopes that maybe you'll be up for round two on the nights he can't find anyone else. To be honest, it'd make you the perfect candidate for a friends-with-benefits type situation with him. He hasn't had one of those in a while.

He doesn't share this thought process with Jungkook. Isn't sure how well received it would be. See, Jungkook's been incredibly vocal about how embarking on a friends-with-benefits situation is potentially the stupidest thing a person can do.

He'd lost his best friend—the girl he could have spent his life with—that way. Hasn't spoken to his favourite person in months because her new boyfriend doesn't like her hanging out with people she used to fuck. Makes sense. He can't argue against it.

He can think about it in the quiet hours of the early mornings, though, and weep a little out of frustration with how fucked up the best thing in life became.

There's a naive hope within him now that thinks he's fixing his previous wrongs with you. Doing things he's already done, without taking it too far, this time. A broken heart can't fall in love, after all. It's different.

Your eyes land on his; dark and frightfully deep. He's not sure what you're thinking. Tells himself it's better that way.

"My hands," he corrects. "Eyes on my hands, Byeol. Watch what I'm doing."

It takes you a moment to pull your eyes from his - and when you do, something about it feels catastrophic. Paint covers the skin of your chest; only a few small gaps of exposed skin are still on display. He squeezes. Moves his fingers. Doesn't specifically aim to cover those spots, but know it's the end goal.

There's a muffled moan hiding in your throat; revelations of a lost pleasure that you've refused to let yourself indulge in.

"Kook-" you begin, but he hushes you.

"Just feel it. Watch it."

And so you do. His chin rests on your shoulder, watching your body, keeping an eye on the way your heartbeat begins to calm, yet races all the same. The ink on his hand is hidden by the paint, his forearms just as much of a mess as your chest. You fight your instincts which tell you to close your eyes; to lean into his touch.

The moan that's made it home in your throat decides it's been trapped for too long. It tickles at your lips, vibrates into the room. You catch it with a gasp, and Jungkook can't help but let an airy smirk fall from his lips.

He never thought you were kidding about how much you liked it, but it's different seeing it in the flesh. There's an insolent nature to his teasing, and it makes you want to fucking whine.

"How does it feel, Byeol?"

Your eyes flick up to his, your lips resting ajar. The heaving of your chest is far easier to see when he stops massaging your chest. You smirk back at him. Roll your eyes.

"You don't wanna know," you tell him, because as much as he tried to make out that none of this would be sexual, your body doesn't agree.

And honestly, nor does his.

"No," he says, closing the minuscule gap he's been keeping between his crotch and your ass. The corners of his lips twitch upwards when you feel it—feel him—press against you. "I think I do wanna know."

His smirk is laced in sin, dark eyes hazy, as your chest begins to stutter all over again. You bring your hand to rest over one of his. Encourage his movements. Let your eyes close. Don't hide the moan that travels through you.

"I thought you said this wasn't gonna be sexual," you eventually say a little breathlessly. You encourage his movements still, just to let him know you're not entirely opposed to it.

"It's not," he purrs against your ear, and presses himself against you again, a little firmer this time. His breath is hot against your skin as you lean your head back, a laboured grunt stuck now in his throat. You can feel his heartbeat against your back.

You let your eyes rest on him in the reflection. Take a moment to read his face, and decide you've no idea what this man is thinking.

Truth be told, he's not really having any cognitive thoughts.

"You're hard," you tell him.

His eyes rest shut, a bashful smile on his giddy lips, neck turning ever so slightly to rest his forehead against your hair. And then he whispers, "Don't tell me you're not wet, Byeol."

"Mhhm," you moan with a little humour. "Dry as the Sahara, buddy."

"God, if my hands weren't covered in paint-"

"You'd what?" you interrupt with a sardonic smile. "This isn't sexual, remember?"

He scrunches his face up. Looks at you. Looks at your chest. Looks away from the mirror, and down to watch his movements. He alters his pace, playing with your tits just for the fun of it, seeing how he can toy with them. It might not be what usually gets him keen, but he can see why you attract boob guys; can also understand why your ex would keep coming back if he is a boob guy.

"You ever do this to yourself? Like, for fun?" He asks, ignoring your last question, seemingly hypnotised by the overspill between his fingers, and the way it jiggles for him.

"Like non-sexually?"

"Mhhm," he says as he repositions himself. Cups the undersides of your boobs. Lets his thumbs flick against your nipples. You moan in a way he hasn't heard before. Does it again. Same result.

"Fuck," you hiss. "Yeah, I do it - fuck, Kook - for fun. Not like this though. This is"—

"Just for getting you wet?"

Yes.

"I'm not wet."

"Such a liar, Byeol."

His fingers pinch, gently clasping at your nipples. Has you mewling. Has you amazed you haven't been letting anyone do this during sex. You've been making yourself suffer to solidify your heartbreak. Maybe if you'd have been fucking people how you like to be fucked, instead of using it as a tool of validation, you'd have found the whole thing a bit easier. Or perhaps not. Perhaps you'll never know.

"Are you trying to make me wet?" You challenge, eyes on him, watching the way he's watching himself.

He shakes his head. Nestles it against your hair. Likes the scent of your shampoo. Inhales a little deeper. Is breathless when he rasps, "Just helping out a friend. How your body reacts to me is its own problem."

You scoff. "My body's reaction has got nothing to do with you."

"No?" His grip tightens. You whine.

"Kook-" is all you can manage, chest heaving, heart in your throat. Your back is arching, pushing your chest further into his grasp.

He's about to mock you; about to tease you a little more. Make some dumb remark, you sure, something that will have you fighting back against him—but it's interrupted.

"Hey, Jungkook?" A voice shouts from the living room. "You in?"

The way Jungkook pulls away from you is so abrupt you almost lose balance. He pulls a shirt from his chair, chucks it in your direction without looking back and darts for the door at such speed, you wouldn't be surprised to see him in a comic book like one of his damn figurines.

He opens the door just a crack, keeping you hidden, ignoring the fact his door handle is now slathered in black paint - the corner of his pristine white wall, too.

"Hey," he squeaks as Jimin stops in his tracks. He'd just been about to reach for Jungkook's doorhandle to invite himself in, but the look on Jungkook's face tells him to stay away.

Jimin raises an eyebrow. "This isn't suspicious at all."

Behind Jungkook's head, Jimin can see his bed. It's made, not disturbed in the slightest, but the way Jungkook is guarding the room makes it incredibly clear he was up to no good. It's all very amusing. Just out of his eye line is your bra.

"Was just letting you know I'm off out," he smirks. "But I'll leave you to it. Don't think I'll be back till morning, so stay safe, young padawan."

"Right," Jungkook purses his lips, not wanting to give Jimin the satisfaction of confirming nor denying anything.

Jimin doesn't care to watch Jungkook squirm. Would rather let him get back to whoever it is with him in his room. The kid's been out of action for so long that he's frankly pleased to see him acting so shifty. He's never known anyone who needs to get laid as much as Jungkook does. Hopes this means he's finally over the last girl.

He turns on his heel, but calls back, "Don't forget to wrap it up! Can't be arsed with baby-proofing the apartment."

"Jesus Christ," Jungkook mutters as he closed his door. He rests his head on the frame for a moment, before turning his head to find you in a state of absolute horror.

"Kook!" You whisper, eyes wide, heart thumping into your chest. The shirt he'd thrown at you is still on the floor because it's a white shirt, and you weren't stupid enough to actually pick it up. You kick back across to his chair, hands covering your chest without touching them. You don't want to end up as messy as he is.

Jungkook strides across to you with a scrunched-up face and just moves your arms, laughing to himself slightly as he cups your breasts in his hands. He holds them firmly. Squeezes an apology. Admittedly, you do feel more protected like this.

"Shush, shush," he coos quietly, a stupid smile plastered all over his face. His hands are temperate, but they squeeze at you a little as his shoulders lift ever so slightly. "He's not out the door yet."

There's a pause as you both wait with bated breath. There's a faint click, which Jungkook knows is the front door going, so he nods. A second click follows.

"You're safe," he laughs, and you can't help but laugh, too. Your hands instinctively come up to cover your chest, but his hands are already there, so you drop them again. His forehead rests against yours. His frivolous energy is contagious, the pair of you breathlessly giggling at the weird fucking situation you're in. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you shake your head, keeping your forehead against his, almost brushing your nose with his. "Not your fault."

"Got a little carried away, though," he whispers, his smile fading as he harshly swallows back. "Should've tapped out. I should have said chess."

You shrug. Whisper, "Takes two to tango."

The moment lingers. Wraps you both up in a ribbon, and ties a bow where his hands meet your chest. Safe and secure. A memory to be tucked away under your list of bad decisions, but for the moment, you'll convince yourself it was a good idea. You're not thinking of Seokjin, at least, and that was the real goal.

"Let's finish this off," he says, nodding over to the canvas. "We need more paint, though. I'm pretty sure I've literally, like, moisturised it into your skin. I don't think that's a good thing."

"It's definitely not a good thing," you cringe, knowing that your pores must be screaming beneath the acrylic. You wait for his grip to leave your chest, but it doesn't. It's only when you raise a brow and shake your head at him that he realises.

"Oh, right, yeah, yeah."

It's a lot more clumsy this time round. Jungkook's second-guessing himself, almost as if he hasn't just spent God knows how long grappling with your tits. He laughs, and so do you, the pair of you finding every little thing hilarious. Perhaps it's nerves, or perhaps you're trying to play this off as something totally normal between friends, but either way, you think you're glad you're with him. Glad he took a chance on your birds.

"How do we even do this?" Jungkook hums in confusion when he holds up the canvas. He puts it in all kinds of positions, but can't seem to figure out the best course of action. You tilt your head and mull it over.

"Gimmie it," you say softly, holding your hands out to retrieve it from him. His palms have left prints on the edges, but it doesn't matter. Turning to the mirror, you can't help but smile at how much of a mess you are. Such a stupid idea, and yet it's worked perfectly. "Okay, stand behind me again - keep your boner away from me this time, though."

"My God, I don't even have one anymore," he whines, and it's true. It's just a semi.

"Sure," you tease, but begin to instruct him further. "Hold them, like, underneath. How you did earlier. Yeah, yeah, that's it," you nod.

His long fingers support the base of your breasts, his thumbs resting on the sides. Chin on the top of your head, it's a lot less intimate than it had been. This, you think, could be argued as non-sexual.

A momentary lapse in judgement is fine, and that's what you'll chalk earlier up to.

It's not like there are set rules to this whole arrangement. Mistakes will be made; bad decisions, too. What matters is that you don't make the same ones twice.

"Okay," you muse quietly, holding the canvas up to your chest, trying to line it up perfectly. "I'm gonna press down. Keep still."

Jungkook doesn't dare move. Too scared you'll notice his semi and tell him off for being a randy bastard. It's circumstantial. He's never spent so long holding a pair of tits. It's just... hormones. Maybe. He isn't really sure.

Pressing the canvas against your poised chest, you apply as much pressure as you can, trying to get the imprint. You're mumbling affirmations of a good job to yourself —"Okay, good. Just a little more. Little more pressure, c'mon."—before pulling it away.

It almost peels, the paint a little tacky, but sure enough, the imprint is there, and pretty damn perfect if you do say so yourself. A pleased, albeit a little surprised, laugh escapes your lips.

"Oh, that's fucking cool," Jungkook beams. "Looks like one of those inkblot tests."

He's not wrong. There are two well-defined black circles, the imprints differing ever so slightly, smudging outwards. To you, it's plainly obvious it's a pair of tits—but then again, they are your tits. It's a lived, breathed experience of yours. Anyone else looking might mistake them for something else.

"Mmm," you agree. "What do you see?"

You're holding it up in front of you, blocking the mirror from your view. Jungkook's head dips to your shoulder, where his pointy chin rests but you don't complain. One of his structured hands eases, slipping to a more natural grasp on your boob, while the other drops. It slinks around the front of your waist, his forearm keeping your back pressed against his chest.

"Big ol' pair of titties," he says in potentially the most childish voice he could have chosen. You pull away from his grasp and give him a look of disgust. "Sorry, I mean... not a pair of tits?"

"You're a fucking child, Jeon," you scold, to which he tells you that he's actually very mature and you're just being a boring old bint. Turning back around to study it a little more, you tilt your head. It's missing something. Jungkook's grasp on you had never fully eased, but both of his hands rest now at the dips of your waist. You pay it no mind. "I think we should add to it."

"Watcha thinking?"

"Not sure," you muse. "It is a little bit too obvious."

"So you're saying it does look like a big pair of"—

"Oh my God," you groan, walking away from him and to where the paint is sitting pretty. "Lie down."

"Sorry?"

"You heard me. Lie down."

You don't look at him as you say your commands, instead you spend your time picking between the paints. The silver is your favourite, but as much as he likes to wear it in the form of jewellery, you know that gold is his colour. It's the one that suits him best - or at least, suits who he is.

He's hesitant, but he does as you say. He lies on his back horizontally across the bed, like how the pair of you do when you look at the birds, one of his arms resting over his stomach. He looks up to them now, no smile on his lips, but an overwhelming sense of contentedness.

Before you, he used to look at the birds and feel guilt. Was harbouring feelings that he'd told everyone he had let go of. They're still there, but they're diluted. Too much of you filling the empty spaces for him to dwell on the birds made for her instead.

You come to perch next to him on the bed, sitting on your ankles as his gaze falls to yours with great curiosity.

"What are you doing, Byeol?"

With a smile, you say nothing - just uncap the paint lid, and turn it on its end over the top of his chest. He doesn't object. Just watches you quietly. Patiently. Hisses when the chill of the paint comes into contact with his skin, but lets you do as you please.

Capping it shut with a click, you reach over to put the paint on his bedside table. Still shirtless, Jungkook watches the way your tits move, and doesn't even try to hide it.

"Eyes up here," you say as you regain full posture, but he keeps his eyes on your tits.

"Can't. Hypnotised."

You're laughing as you roll your eyes. "Such a liar, Mr 'I'm an Ass Guy'."

He finally looks at you, almost in horror, thanks to the voice you just did impersonate him. "Is that how you think I sound?!"

"It is how you sound," you tell him, knowing that you should have deepened your voice. Instead, you'd deliberately raised it a few octaves. "I'm a voice actress in my spare time," you lie. "I've been told I have perfect pitch on many occasions. That was an exact replica of your voice."

It's said with such a straight face that it would be believable if it wasn't for the fact that Jungkook does have perfect pitch. His music teacher always tried to make him pursue a musical career, but he was fearful of failure. Didn't want to put himself out there just to get rejected.

"I can't believe I'm friends with you," he mutters as your finger begins to draw over his chest with the paint. "Most annoying girl I've ever met—shit"— He winces as you flick his nipple, his hand coming to rub at it almost immediately. "Byeol!"

"Hmm?" you smile. "Sorry were you saying something?"

He says nothing, just narrows his eyes at you as you get back to work, spreading the paint over his chest.

"We've already got an imprint of my tits," you muse, pressing the metallic gold into his muscles, quietly in awe over his physique. "And now I wanna get an imprint of your tits, too. Over the top of mine. I think it'll look cool."

"You mean my pecks?"

"Yeah, sure," you say. "Your tits."

"They're pecks!"

"Okay?"

"One of those birds better have 'fixing my attitude problem' on them," Jungkook huffs, but it's all in good humour. You tell him your attitude is golden—just like his tits are. "They're fucking pecks!"

Reaching over for the canvas, your golden palms are just clumsy as his had been, leaving little marks on the edge of the canvas. Laughter fills his room as you try and decide how to place it, with the pair of your twisting and turning the canvas to try and figure out your best bet. You don't want to obscure your tits entirely, but his chest is broad.

"Don't think you thought this through," Jungkook teases. "You just wanted an excuse to touch my chest."

You flick his nipple again.

"Jesus Christ! One more time and I'll"—

Oh, how you love a threat. Can't wait to see if it's a promise.

And so you flick the other.

"Right, that's it."

It'd be a lie if you said you knew exactly where he flung the canvas - you were too busy trying to avoid his grasp as he got to his feet - but there are only so many places you can run to in his room.

In fact, you only actually get about three steps away by the time his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you into his grasp. The paint on his chest is slick against your back, but he doesn't really think about it as he turns you around, pressing you up against the window that doesn't have the curtain pulled shut.

His large hand clasps both of your wrists, holding them above your head just to keep them away from his damn nipples. The chase was minimal, the catch far too easy - and yet you're both breathless. Chests heaving. Your nipples are gilded in gold. He's far too fucking close.

"Kook"—

"What did I say about flicking my nipples?" He looks down at you, desperately trying not to smirk. The anger he's feigning is convincing, but even if he was furious, he's painted like a chryselephantine statue. In all fairness, he's got the body to match. A Greecian God if you ever did see one.

"Can't help it," you pout. "Your tits are just so perky."

He doesn't even insist on the fact they're pecks this time. Just lets his eyes drop to your tits, then back to your eyes. Repeats this four or five times. Shakes his head.

"If that's the metric we're going with, Byeol, then you're well overdue half a dozen nipple flicks."

"Nooo," you whine, squirming to get out of his grasp. He doesn't let you immediately, but ultimately decides it's for the best. Needs to calm himself down. Can't be having another repeat of the night before.

As soon as his grasp eases, you bolt away from him, and retrieve the canvas from the foot of his bed. He notices the gold on his window, and ignores it. Will deal with it later. It's an easy fix. A logical one.

For now, he's got a half-naked force of a woman in his room that he doesn't know how the fuck to deal with. No logic, no reason, no rhyme seems to help him figure you out.

"Please can we finish the canvas?" you say sweetly, as if you haven't been the one derailing things every single step of the way.

He says nothing. Spread his arms wide. Beckons you forward.

Pressing the canvas to his chest, you throw all of your deliberations out of the window. You don't really care for the outcome, now. Just know that the pair of you need to not be topless anymore.

It's platonic, yeah, but it is tempting.

The canvas peels much like it did when your impression was made, the paint tacky on his skin. The pair of you are dumbfounded as you take in the result for the first time.

It's fucking beautiful.

Metallic gold weaves around the black, overlaying ever so serenely, creating an abstract interaction between the shapes.

"What do you see now?" you ask softly, quietly proud of your creation together.

"I see a masterpiece," he grins, and that arm of his that likes hooking around your waist so much finds its favourite spot once more. His chin is on your head. "And you know what else?"

"What?"

"Look there"— he points to a small 'v' shape, just above the imprint of your chest that's free of gold. "Looks to me like a bird."

"Holy shit."

"A fear set free," he muses.

"Well done us," you beam, holding your hand up for him to high-five. He does so with ease, before reaching for the canvas and propping it up on his desk.

"C'mon," he grips onto your shoulders. Eases you forward and to his bedroom door. Reaching round to open it, he lets his hands fall to your waist, and then back up to cup your tits as you walk together. "Shower."

"Are you ever gonna let go of them now?" You laugh, finally pointing out just how bloody handsy he is.

"Don't think so."

"Brilliant."

He eventually does let them go as you're both washing your hands beneath the tap of his bathroom sink.

"Got a little paint in your hair," Jungkook says as you're drying your hands. He goes to twiddle at it in an attempt the break the dry paint down. It's not a lot, but it does mean you'll need to wash your hair to avoid the bleached strands from staining.

"Shit," you curse, knowing that Jungkook definitely won't have any silver shampoo, nor will he have anything more than a bog-standard conditioner.

"Hold on," he says, moving you to the side to rummage in the cupboard beneath the sink. There's a small clatter of bottles as he pulls a basket from the back of the shelf with a triumphant smile.

It's a grin that's quietly pleased, lips thin, pressed together, lip ring flipping in that way which always makes you smile. The basket itself is just as interesting as Jungkook's face—a myriad of coloured tubes, and lo-and-behold, the same brand of silver shampoo you use.

"Jimin had a phase," he explains. "Well, no actually, he's had a few - but this is from the coloured hair phase. You need the purple shit, right?"

You nod. "The purple shit."

"Take what you need," he says as he gets back to his full posture, leaving the room only to return a moment later with a bottle of conditioner in hand. You know the brand. It's pricey. You only buy it when it's on sale. You furrow your brows, and he just shrugs. "I keep my good towels out of the bathroom, Jimin keeps his good conditioner out of it instead."

It's funny, 'cause you do exactly the same. Danbi has been blessed with hair from the Gods, so never has to pay much attention to what she uses. A string of bad dye jobs and unhealthy heat habits have left you with a deep conditioning complex, and there's nothing worse than going for a shower and realising the conditioner you paid and an arm and a leg for is all gone.

Will this stop you from using Jimin's special conditioner? No, absolutely not. You care more about your hair than you do about his annoyance.

"How are we doing this?" You ask casually as Jungkook starts the shower up.

"Well," he contemplates far too hard for the sentence that follows. "I think we get in the shower, and then I think we... shower?"

"Right," you nod, as he grins, clearly pleased with himself. "Silly me. Of course it's that simple."

"Well it can be," he shrugs. "We both know we didn't really do the shower bird to completion, and aren't we saying 'fuck it', now? So why not?"

He's got a point. You feel far less on edge about the whole showering thing since the last time. It's like you've been working through it in stages, and it's helped.

"So..." you say quietly. "I don't know about you, Kook, but I normally shower naked."

He just shrugs. "Really, Byeol? Do you not think we've already crossed that boundary? I'm quite literally staring at your tits right now."

You look down to your exposed chest, and suppose he's right.

"Just... don't look, okay? You get in the shower first and like, face the wall or something."

As much as he thinks you're being ridiculous and that it really doesn't matter, he agrees. Your birds are, after all, all about you, and what you're comfortable with. Just because he is doesn't mean you will be.

He strips down, and discards his clothes into a pile. He'd be lying if he said he was entirely confident, but he definitely feels the pressure a lot less than you do.

"I'm in," he says encouraging you to follow suit.

Against your better judgement, you do.

You toss your trousers on top of his, panties too, and make your way into his shower. It's warm, just the right temperature, still set to Jimin's preference from earlier.

"Now was that so hard?" Jungkook asks, still facing the wall.

"No," you say airily. "I can see why you're an ass guy."

He turns his head, and sure enough, your eyes are on his ass. "Double standards."

"It's really good," you say, a little in shock at just how toned it is; how you'd kill for yours to be as peachy as his. "But you're right, you're right - I'm sorry."

"Can I at least turn around now?" He asks. "Seeing as you've already broken rule number one."

"What rule?!"

"Looking! You set the bloody rule!"

"Oh yeah," you grimace. Part of you considers turning around, but in all honesty, you don't want his ass-loving eyes to fall on yours and be disappointed. "Um, yeah. Sure. You can turn."

He's cupping his balls as he does so, hiding himself. It's sort of sweet in a way, and matches your own awkward stance.

"C'mon," he says, knocking his head back, encouraging you further into the stream of water. "Need to wash you off."

"You need to?"

"Well, yeah? Only fair. I'm the one who got you like that." He senses your hesitation, and offers you an out. "Or you can do it. I don't mind either way."

And for some reason, you don't actually seem to mind the suggestion. "Go for it."

He steps a little closer. "Say the word and I'll stop."

You reach for his hands. Lift them to your chest. "I don't think I'll say it."

He begins to massage at them, easing the paint off ever so gently, but it's stubborn. "Could do with some shower gel. Scent preference?"

"Hmm, strawberry?"

"Great choice."

You still find the fact he has more than one shower gel on the go hilarious, but you enjoy having a choice. It's one of the fantastic things about Jungkook; you're never backed into a corner. He'll always give you an option. A way out.

And yet as he gets reacquainted with your chest, you don't think you want one. The things that scared you before - forgetting Seokjin, losing his touch - seem like a world away. Yes, it's different with Jungkook, but it doesn't mean that it erases what you had with Seokjin. It also doesn't mean that you have to subject yourself to a life of boring sex just because you're harbouring guilt from a relationship breakdown that really wasn't your fault at all.

Seokjin had strayed, though. Made you feel like there was something wrong with you. Had you questioning the things you thought he'd loved about you - your tits included.

Seeing how Jungkook - a self-professed ass guy - reacts to them has been so validating. So needed. Will do you wonders in the future, you're sure.

It's as he's kneading at your tits that you notice he's becoming a little moany, too. A little unstrained. God, it's so satisfying.

He closes his eyes. Rests his forehead on yours. Squeezes around your tits as he swallows so harshly you think you can almost hear it. Nods, and then says, "Still an ass guy—but fucking hell, Byeol. You might convert me."

You laugh now, and Jungkook is obsessed with the way your boobs slide beneath his fingers, sopping wet and moving in time with your body. He still doesn't open his eyes.

"Fun aren't they?"

Again, he just nods. Doesn't wanna think about anything too hard.

If he does, he knows he'll have to deal with the fact his cock is now hard, too.

He thanks the high heavens that you just aren't mentioning it, because there's no way you haven't noticed.

It's not like he meant for it to happen. One moment he was trying to be respectful, and the next all he could think about it how soft and warm they are in his grasp. Was all beyond his control.

Thing is, Jungkook has no idea how hard it is for you to resist reaching down for it. It feels like second nature; like it's what you should do.

But it's a boundary that's still intact, and you'd like to keep as many of those as possible.

So would he - but he's fucking solid, throbbing, balls tight. Can't remember the last time he got like this. Sure he's been hard. Been horny. But this is on another level.

And so he just says fuck it.

Tells you so.

"Byeol if I don't cum in the next five minutes I think I'm gonna die."

His admission takes you by surprise. You want to laugh, but remain deadly serious as you say, "I think you'll be fine."

"No," he insists. "I will actually die."

"How?"

"Ruptured ballsack?" He grimaces. "I don't know, but I do know that my life is quite literally flashing before my eyes right now."

"Poor baby," you pout, and stroke at his hair just to wind him up a little bit more.

"Don't," he whines. "I'm one more sarcastic comment away from sucking your tits just to shut you up. You know how many pairs of tits I've sucked?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "None. Always thought it was weird. But now? I'm so horny I'm literally delirious. Willing to do anything."

Yeah right, you think.

"That's not very platonic of you," you state, using the exact tone of voice you know is winding him up.

"Byeol, I said one more."

"One more what?"

"God," he lets out a tortured sob. "It's like you want me to suck your tits."

"Me? Want that? Never."

"But it wasn't on the bird," he says, as if the birds really do dictate every single one of his actions. "Can't do it."

"In all fairness, Kook, nor was anything else that happened tonight. It was literally just the word 'tits'."

He tries to think straight, but he really can't. Doesn't know what's come over him. Maybe he's just tired. Maybe he just never knew how much he liked tits. Either way, he's absolutely done for.

He runs his thumbs over your nipples, and—fuck—the way you moan really does have him wanting to take them in his mouth. It's always been a no-go for him. Always thought the concept was a bit weird.

But it's all he can think about, now.

All he wants.

"Oh my god," he whines, again, obviously going through a little inner turmoil. His forehead drops to your shoulder. "Why do I want it? Why do I wanna suck your tits?"

"Mummy issues."

"Byeol! You're not helping."

"Just get yourself off," you laugh. "Once you get the orgasm out of you, you'll be able to think straight."

He nods. Knows you're right. "What about you? Do you need to?"

You've a much better grasp on your desperation than he does. You're a brat through and through, and find it hilarious that men seem to think they 'tame' you. In reality, you're the one who calls the shots. You're always in control. Just let them think they are.

With Jungkook, you've not needed to play up for him, so you don't realise how unaware he is of the fact your inner thighs are coated in your slickness.

"Can do," you shrug.

"That's not a yes."

You roll your eyes. "Look at me."

He does as he's told, and you decide very quickly that he would be so incredibly easy to turn into your bitch if you wanted him to be. It's cute. His lips are parted, brows pushed together, a crease forming above his nose. He really does look like he might die. Poor baby.

Dipping your hands to where your legs part, you run two fingers along your folds, and hold them up for Jungkook to see. You separate your fingers, the clear fluid suspended between the two of them. He whines again. Rests his head on your shoulder.

"The bird," he says. "The bird that we kinda did, but didn't do."

"What of it?" you toy, knowing exactly what he wants.

"Can we?" He rasps, unable to get his sentence out. One of his hands is on your chest, the other pressed flat to the tiles beside your head. His cock is desperate for contact. His hips are pulsing against nothing. If he doesn't grip onto it soon, he's gonna rut too far and end up touching you.

"You wanna get off together?"

He just nods. Mewls. "Please just give me the green light, Byeol. Please."

And as much as you want to keep fucking with him, it feels cruel now. His veins are engorged, flooded with blood, in desperate need of him to do something - anything - to have his heart beating normally again.

"Okay," you whisper. "Get yourself off."

He doesn't waste a second. Has his hand around his cock by the time you've finished the sentence. The change in his breathing is stark. There's a moan caught with every tug on his cock, his hand moving at a speed you didn't was humanely possible.

And it excites you.

Has you clasping the tit that he isn't currently holding onto for dear life, while your other hand sinks to your folds. You're soaked, clit throbbing, begging for even the faintest bit of attention. When Jungkook hears you moan too, he thinks he's done for. Holds his cock so tight he's scared he'll ruin his orgasm.

You know your body though. Know how to get yourself off within a minute when duty calls.

"Keep going," you tell him. "I can get close."

"That quickly?" he asked, genuinely surprised.

"Women are magic," you say between pants, dipping your fingers into your entrance for a little bit of fiction to your g-spot, just enough to really get you there.

"Fucking magic," he husks, his body edging a little closer to yours. You don't mind. In fact, you think you'll prefer it, so you let go of your chest and encourage him to close the gap. Your hand is on his waist, pulling him closer. He looks up. Regrets it, 'cause he never needed to see you looking like this. Doesn't ever wanna fuckin' look away. "Sure?"

"Mhhm," you moan, unable to get a word out because of how close you are—and then you can feel the tip of his cock press against your stomach, just below your ribcage. His movements are frantic.

"I'm not gonna last."

"Then don't."

His forehead rests on yours, the pair of you breathing so heavily that you're basically surviving on one another. Inhale, exhale. You're one and the same.

"Oh, fuck," you mewl, so incredibly close. Your fingers massage at your pussy just how you like it; spank against your clit a little, tease it to the near point of no return. "Kook, I'm about to"—

"Me too," he chokes. "Where?"

"It's fine," you husk, knowing he's asking where to cum. "It's okay. I don't mind."

"Sure?"

"Just fucking cum, Kook. Cum on me."

"Shit."

The release is just as undignified as the build. The pair of you are messes, whining as you come undone together. The voltage runs from the tips of your toes to the tops of your fingers, so intense that they go fucking numb for a moment. You're overstimulated almost as soon as it hits, unable to do anything but pant against his shoulder.

The tip of Jungkook's cock is pressed against your skin, his release painting you in the most glorious sin. He cums, but it feels like it never stops. Every time you think it has, he whines again, wanks a little more, unloads another spurt onto your torso. It trails down your hip, to your thigh and then sinks to the shower floor; washed away like a bad decision never to be repeated.

Breathlessness overcomes the pair of you, remaining as you are for a few moments, until Jungkook finally breaks it.

"I swear I never usually cum that fast."

You just laugh. Pat his head. "Sure."

"Fuck off, I don't," he says, laughing now too. "Christ. What the fuck was that, Byeol?"

He lifts his posture from how it's rested against you, turning to press his shoulders to the tiles beside you. The shower is still running, so he reaches over to turn it off. Neither of you are fully clean yet, but you'll get back to it in a moment. No point in running his water bill up just because he can.

"Well," you exhale. "I think you just discovered boobs."

He laughs. Tilts his head back against the tiles. Bites his lips as he shakes his head. "To be fair, I think you might be right."

You laugh now too, and that's how the evening remains; full of laughter. Jokes about how platonic and totally friendly the entire exchange has been. There's no weirdness, but in all honesty, you never thought there would be.

Jungkook lends you a pair of sweats and one of his shirts after the shower, your hair air drying beautifully thanks to Jimins oh-so-expensive conditioner. You feel a little bad for using it now, but you made him cum once, so you think you're even.

"And when Jimin asks where it's come from?" You question as you watch from Jungkook's sofa while he hangs your artwork up on the wall. It's next to the television. Really fucking hard to miss. Will be the first thing he notices.

"I'll just say it's one of Tae's," Jungkook shrugs.

"And when Tae comes round?"

"I'll... think of another lie?"

"Sounds foolproof," you muse, sipping on your glass of water, thinking that he's possibly the biggest idiot you know.

"Either way, neither of them will know what it is, or who made it. It'll be a mystery. Wait, unless," he stops himself. Furrows his brows together. Tries to join dots in his head. Even uses his hands to help with the mental work. "Would Jimin be able to tell?"

Your lips purse up, forming a thin line between your cheeks. You shake your head.

"No?"

"No," you say. "He never... Well, I meant what I said about them. Keeping them off limits. Or at least, kept."

"Yeah," Jungkook nods, accepting your truth, but thinking of hypotheticals. "Did he not see them, like, at all?"

"Um," you say to buy time, questioning how much you should divulge. "You really wanna know?"

Jungkook shrugs. Nods his head again. Makes no difference to him.

You adjust in your seat, trying to think of how to phrase the events of your night with Jimin, and finally settle on, "Well, I was fully clothed"—

"What?"

—"And we did it from behind." You watch as Jungkook stays silent for a moment. He's doing that thinking face of his again. The hand is moving. Figuring things out. And then you realise what he's doing. "No! Gross! Don't imagine it!"

"I'm just trying to get a visual!" He protests with a small pout. "Just trying to understand how!"

"My god," you cringe, hiding your head in your hands. "Never should have done that bird with you."

Jungkook rolls his eyes as he comes to sit beside you, admiring his handiwork. He actually really likes the painting. Is glad you added him to it, too.

"Yes, you should have," he says. "You admitted it yourself, you kept your tits off-limits, but it's clearly a big part of sex for you, right?"

You nod, not looking at him, but up at the canvas. It really is pretty. "Right."

"If you could do all that with me, you can do it with anyone else. It'll make a huge difference to how satisfying you find casual sex, which is like, the whole goal, right?"

And again, you nod.

"Exactly," he beams. "Now, say 'thank you Jungkook'."

"I'm not saying thank you," you laugh. "You literally got cum on my feet. You should be thanking me."

"Oh my god," he groans. "I'm never showering with you again."

"It wasn't the shower that was the issue!"

The pair of you bicker a little more, until the reality of it being the early hours of the morning kicks in. You're both yawning, hardly able to keep your eyes open. He offers up his bed, but you'd feel guilty taking it two nights in a row, so call for a taxi instead.

You're still in his clothes, but you'll just return them the inevitable next time.

He tells you to let him know when you get home safe, and you do, only for him to reply a few minutes later with a message that makes you consider blocking him.

Jungkook: Still an ass guy, btw.

minors dni | wattpad | series masterlist |

#jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook masterlist #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook smut #bts fanfic #byholly #angst #smut #jungkook x y/n #college!jungkook #bartender!jk #jungkook fluff #bd #bad decisions #bd!jk #bts

[fandom-go-round]

Sea Salt Like Glitter: Part Three

Summary: You’re a forest ranger. Trees and mammals are your specialty. Mermaids in the ocean? Way outside your area of expertise. Good News: They like you. Bad News: They like you a lot

Mer! Sun x Plus Sized! Reader x Mer! Moon

Part One , Part Two , Part Three (Here!), Part Four (Coming Soon)

Hi everyone! Sorry this took a second, I decided to split the last part into two parts so have a (slightly shorter) part three. Things are heating up here, plot and otherwise. I hope that you enjoy!

Warnings: Different Species, Kissing (Mer), Grinding, Slightly Suggestive Use of Tentacles, Cross Species Interactions, Mild Flirting, Cross Species Courtship, Bodily Harm (Reader), Head Injury

            Three months have gone by since the potential poacher boat incident and you’ve relaxed again. No one has come to try and steal your boys and they’re happy as clams. They’ve been very insistent about spending time with you and even if you don’t really get it, it’s nice to be wanted. Tonight is going to be another meet up and you’re going to be brave. You’re going to bring your swimsuit.

            Moon has not so subtly been trying to get you to swim with them. Every time you’ve denied him, partly because he’s too mischievous and partly because you’re afraid you’ll embarrass yourself. The mers are already going to swim better than you, there’s no reason to prove it. Unfortunately, they’ve discovered your weakness in the months you’ve gotten to know them; puppy dog eyes. Sun had begged you to come into the water and you couldn’t resist, not for long. You agree to head down to the beach a little before the sun begins to set so you can spend time with Sun before he gets to be sleepy.

            You ignore how odd it feels to go to the beach in something other than your uniform, enjoying the feeling of warm sand between your toes. Sun isn’t on the beach yet and you set your things up, placing a towel and your bag down. Better to bring snacks and water and not need it then be craving something later.

            “Friend!” Sun’s excited call has you turning and you wave, giving him a smile. He’s halfway out of the water when he freezes, smile disappearing from his face. You frown back, making your way over to him.

            “Hey Sun, everything alright?” The call of his name seems to snap the mer out of it, Sun giving a low rumble and leaning towards you. He rubs your cheeks together cutely, eyes half lidded. A part of your brain tries to tell you what it means but the thought doesn’t last as Sun begins to happily talk.

            “Excited to swim today! What wearing?” His claws come up to gently pull at your shoulder strap at the question and you wave him off, making sure to fix the twist.

            “It’s a bathing suit, it helps me in the water.” He doesn’t believe your words at all but takes his time looking you over. You shift a little and offer an explanation, even though you don’t need to justify yourself to him. “Usually I wear a t-shirt but I thought it might drag me down and that’s where the one piece came from.” You silently added that since no one was there you wanted to try out this new one; its cute but not something that you would wear out. Sun gave a coo, nuzzling you again and sliding back towards the water.

            “Cute!” He chirped, grinning wider when you look a little embarrassed. “Swim with me!” You laughed, shaking your head and moving towards the water.

            “Yeah yeah I’m coming.” You were thankful you had put skin protection on before Sun got here. There’s no way the mer would be patient enough to wait. Sun let out a few excited chirps before sinking all the way in, doing flips and jumps as you waded in.

            The water was cold and you winced, wishing that you had brought a wet suit for a moment. Too late to back out now though. You took a deep breath and dove under the water, beginning to kick out towards Sun. He wasn’t far off shore but it was deep enough you couldn’t touch the bottom. Not that Sun was going to let you float alone, oh no.

            The moment Sun could wrap his tail around you he did, pulling you close to his chest. You gasped, half in surprise and half because he was warm. It wasn’t something you noticed on the beach but here in the water there was a very noticeable temperature difference. You happily wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him tow you through the water.

            The two of you played games as the sun began to set and you barely noticed. Sun would throw you into the air and then race to catch you, you would take off and try to swim as far as you could. Sun wanted you to dive and you went back to shore to grab goggles, the mer showing you things underwater. There was a beautiful coral formation nestled in the rock formations and even though you weren’t too confident, you let Sun swim you out there.

            You were in the middle of watching a crab try to catch a small fish when everything scattered. Your heart began to pound as a dark shadow fell over you and you hoped it was Moon. Without turning to look you shot towards the surface, dark laughter following you. Your head breached the surface right as a tenacle wrapped around your foot and you were able to take a deep breathe before Moon pulled you back under.

            He easily flipped you to see him and you scowled, shaking your fist at him. He snickered, wrapping another tentacle around your other leg. It was the first time you had seen his complete form and it was as impressive as it was intimidating. Moon was just as long as Sun but his torso was shorter, more of his upper half being tentacles. Each one was as thick as your arm at the ends and tree trunk sized at his waist. His lights were also flashing faster tonight and you hoped he was ok.

            Moon dragged you through the water, hands on your arms and tentacles wrapped everywhere else. You didn’t flinch away, even as you moved a couple to better spots. It didn’t take long for you to need air and you gestured towards the surface. The squid gave an exaggerated pout, leading the two of you in a lazy loop-da-loop before heading up           .

            It took you a moment to regain the ability to talk, mostly because your lungs had been burning more than you thought. Sun popped up next to you, tugging you towards him. Moon didn’t let you go completely, wrapping a tenacle around Sun and turning things into a cuddle party. You happily soaked up Sun’s warmth, shuddered as you realized it was much colder than before.

            “Bad swimmer.” Moon taunted, tentacles squeezing your legs. You huffed, kicking at him a little. He gave you another squeeze and pressed closer, cold water dripping onto your shoulder.

            “Trust me, I could be a lot worse. There are some people who don’t know how to swim.” Both mers made faces at your admission and you laughed. “Humans only really have to know how to walk ya know.”

            “Swimming better.” Moon replied easily, as if that logic meant he won the mock argument. You rolled your eyes and Sun laughed quietly, his eyes starting to drop. It didn’t take long for either mer to fall asleep or wake up, depending on the time of day. The lack of sun made Sun sluggish but it didn’t seem to bother him as much as sunlight bothered Moon.

            “You can go get some sleep Sun.” You gently reached out to rub his cheek. The mer purred like a cat and leaned into your touch, eyes closing all the way. It took him a second before he sat up and shook his head, one hand coming up to smack his face.

            “No no, not yet! Something important to talk about!” You raised an eyebrow, looking between the two of them. Moon was deliberately avoiding eye contact and Sun was struggling to stay awake. Anxiety curled in your gut but you ignored it, giving them a nod.

            “Ok, what did you want to talk about?” Neither knew exactly what to say, Sun staring at Moon and Moon refusing to look over. Sun made a frustrated sound, tail coming up to hit his mate. Moon hissed, flashing teeth in no real threat. “Is it a bad thing?”

            “Not a bad thing.” Sun immediately reassured you, shaking his head. You weren’t convinced and Sun could tell, pinching your cheek gently.

            “Delicate.” Moon rumbled from behind you and you turned to him, Sun nodding out of the corner of your eye.

            “Yes yes, delicate!” Now you were getting even more nervous. You took a deep breath, figuring if you had to rip the band aid off, might as well do it quickly.

            “Do the two of you have to leave?” Both of them seemed startled at your question, eyes  wide. They started to coo and click, pulling you even closer. It was a little hard to breathe but you didn’t fight it, waiting for them to switch back so you could understand them.

            “No no no!” Sun was the first to realize they had switched to mer, hands stroking your head almost feverishly. He always did love touching your head and hair; it took a while to get used to. “We not going anywhere.”

            “Want you to stay.” Moon spoke at almost the exact same time, his face buried in your shoulder. His breath was warm, even if his skin wasn’t and you shuddered at the duel sensations. Both noticed and began to hum, your skin suddenly feeling hyper sensitive.

            “I-I want to you to stay too.” You cleared your throat and ignored the sudden flash of heat going through you. Keep it together damn it. Your friends didn’t need to know you were feeling that way about them. You barely even acknowledged you were feeling that way. At least out loud. And out of bed.

            Moon made a displeased rumble, nibbling gently on your skin. Your heart was starting to pound and you were getting dizzy. Something was going on and you didn’t understand. Sun cooed and you met his eyes, realizing that they were blue instead of white. He smiled when you focused on him, leaning close to rub your noses together.

            “Pretty pretty. Be with us?” Sun phrased it as a question but you were still missing too much context.

            “What do you-?” Your question was cut off by your loud moan, the mers freezing in the water around you. Sun had moved his tail between your legs and the warmth rubbing just right had you responding. Moon let out a sound suspiciously like a groan and you whimpered as his teeth sank into you shoulder. It hurt but he didn’t bite hard enough to draw blood. Sun gave an answering groan and rubbed his tail against you again.

            “Ok time out!” You were proud that your voice was strong, hands coming up to form an ‘X’ across your chest. “Waaaait a minute!” The mers paused what they were doing, two sets of bright eyes on you. You cleared your throat and began to disentangle yourself from them, ignoring the pouting and slight whines.

            “We need to talk about this.” You put on your best scolding voice and it seemed the work, the mers coming back to themselves. Sun’s eyes changed back to white and Moon retracted most of his tentacles. One still helped you float and it stayed respectfully above the belt.

            “Mad?” Sun sounded nervous, hands fidgeting anxiously in front of him. You sighed and gave a smile, shaking your head. The good news was that the cold water was helping you keep a clear head.

            “No Sun I’m not mad. I just, we were getting a little carried away and I want to make sure we’re all ok with… whatever this is.” Sun relaxed at your words, looking relieved. Moon grumbled but nodded, letting you collect your thoughts. You took a deep breathe, ignoring how embarrassed you felt. “This… is a thing right?”

            “Want it to be.” Sun confirmed, swimming small circles in the water. You could tell that he was anxious but you needed to understand what was happening.

            “Mate.” Moon was always the blunt one of the pair, gesturing to himself and then Sun. Sun gave a nod and you nodded as well. They had explained it once an though it took a bit, you understood they were a bonded pair. “Mate too.” Moon began to trace out a triangle, you being one of the corners.

            “Me?” Your voice was higher than you anticipated and Moon snickered a little.

            “Yes!” Sun was quick to reassure you, swimming over. He reached for you and waiting until you nodded before grabbing your arms. He helped you float as you tried to process.

            “How does that even-?” You cut off your own thought, not finishing it out loud. Moon gave a rumble and you watched as his lights began to flicker faster.

            “Compatible.” He reassured you and even if you didn’t get it, you get enough. You want to deny that it’s not possible, that you don’t know what they’re talking about but you can’t. You’ve noticed the linger touches and look, the way they like to circle you. You had ignored it and said that it was all you, not them. And now you’re trying to think through it.

            “When did you decide this?” You’re not trying to distract them but you do want to know. Sun laughs, rubbing your cheeks together quickly.

            “Defended our territory, saved Moon. Lots and lots of things.” He sounds love struck and you can’t help but laugh a little. Moon moves closer, wrapping tentacles around both of you but nothing too much this time.

            “Want to be with you. Defended us, we defend you.” His words are rougher than Sun’s but have the same emotion and you nod back.

            “I want that too.” Both of them perk up, fins flaring out and you keep going. “But not tonight.” Sun whines loudly and Moon huffs, tentacles slapping the water a bit. “Behave you two. I’m not ready yet and I’m too cold but we can do this next time, I promise.”

            They perk up at the mention of ‘next time’ and after sharing a few clicks they agree. Sun sinks under the waves and you float with Moon a little bit before he drops you off at shore. He nuzzles your cheek like Sun and you nuzzle back; only now do you realize that it must be like kissing for them. His eyes watch as you walk back to your cabin, ruby staring for longer than necessary before sinking under the waves.

            You feel like you’re floating when you get to the cabin. You walk in easily and drop your bags by the door. Future you can take care of that. The entire day feels like a dream; you never would have guessed this is what your swim would bring. Getting ready for bed is automatic and later you’ll curse yourself for not feeling something off earlier.

            You brush your teeth and then decide that you want another glass of water. Walking into the kitchen, everything is dark and quiet. It’s only when you grab a glass off the counter that you pause. Your curtains are closed. Your curtains are never closed, not in the living room.

            Pain explodes on the back of your head and you slam into the counter, air leaving your lungs. You gasp, the glass in one hand and the other scrambling against the sink. You half turn, trying to throw the glass behind you and you take another blow to the head. You don’t have enough time to question that’s going on, consciousness leaving you faster than you can count.

#fnaf #fnaf security breach #sun x reader #sun imagine #sun x moon #moon x reader #moon x y/n #sun x y/n #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf au #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #fnaf dca #sun x reader x moon #daycare attendant x reader #mermaid au #mer sun #mer moon #daycare attendant imagine #daycare attendent

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

Chapter 12 Nemo dat quot non habet (No one gives what they do not have) - Benidorm part 3

Next, Cartagena

Warnings: Smut and I'm sure lots of typos that I missed

Taglist: @glitterypirateduck @letsreadallday @jamesrifftapes @sofasoap @mmyrrhh

Previous / Masterlist / Next

‘‘Was that Price? Did anything happen?’’ Johnny’s voice sounded concerned when Simon hung up the phone, but the sly grin on the scarred lips of the Lieutenant made him relax right away and smile. ‘‘Shit, what did’yae do?’’

‘‘Exploding cigar’’ Simon chuckled, grabbing his glass of beer to take a sip, face mask hooked under his chin and the hood of his hoodie covering his head and most of his face, leaning back in the chair. Like always, it was too small for him, but he felt so satisfied and content in that moment that he didn’t care.

They were sitting at what Christine had called a chiringuito, which seemed to be a bar next to the beach, with good food and sometimes music. It was right by the building where they were staying, at the apartment that they had rented even before leaving the UK, not trusting the CIA arrangements in the slightest.

And in spite of all, as both men observed the girls having a good time, dancing… life was good. Gabi’s laughter could be heard over the music as she twirled following Christine’s guide. There were plenty of people dancing, and the music was at times too loud, but life was good.

‘‘Yer an awful piece of shite’’ Johnny was laughing, imagining Price’s face, and Simon just grinned, his dark brown eyes following Christine and Gabi as they danced. Carefree, duty forgotten for the moment. Even though she was wearing her face mask after finishing dinner, Christine seemed to be laughing and enjoying herself. Gabi was beaming too, as they both danced to the music, whatever it was.

‘‘He put glitter in my gloves, it’s fair payback’’ Simon justified himself, shrugging, still grinning, and Johnny just burst into laughter. The girls were making their way back to the table, chatting among themselves, and he straightened up a bit in his chair, looking for the blue that he wanted to see.

‘‘Eeeeh, guapa (Hey beautiful)’’ Someone slurred from the neighbouring table, and both him and Johnny tensed up. Simon covered his lower face again with the face mask, turning to look at a small group of men that had been ogling and trying to chat women up the whole time they had been there. When Gabi had gone to the toilet they had tried to talk to her, but she had ignored them. When Christine had gone to the bar counter to order food and drinks, one of them asked her something that she plainly ignored when she came back.

It seemed they still hadn’t got enough rejection to get the clue.

‘‘Eh, cabrón (Hey motherfucker)’’ Johnny called out to them in his broken Spanish, grabbing Gabi’s waist to pull her onto his lap. ‘‘Mi novia, cállate (My girlfriend, shut up)’’

Christine sat calmly beside Simon, in silence, trying to avoid looking at the other table. Slowly, he threw his arm around the back of her chair as usual, waiting for what he knew was coming next.

‘‘¿Y esa qué, es tuya también? (And what about that one, is she yours too?)’’ Another of the men laughed, pointing at Christine, but his face dropped when Simon leaned in, his dark eyes as unforgiving and stern as ever. His arm fell slightly between the back of the chair and her body, and his enormous hand came to rest on her waist, dragging her closer.

‘‘No’’ Ghost answered coldly, with the low, gravelly voice that promised nothing good would happen if they continued on that path. ‘‘Es mía (She’s mine)’’

He felt her body melt into his side, but he kept staring until the men turned around and decided to pay attention elsewhere. Gabi was cooing something in Johnny’s ear, but his friend was looking at him, with a smile half amused and half surprised.

‘‘Ye bastard, ye speak Spanish!’’ He laughed, slapping his shoulder and making Gabi bounce on his lap with his laughter. ‘‘But you told Alejandro in Las Almas…’’

‘‘I said nothing in Las Almas’’ Simon corrected, leaning back in his chair again, but bringing discreetely Christine’s body back with him, reluctant to let go. If he had to act like an alpha male to the whole fucking bar, so be it, as long as she was left alone. ‘‘You told Alejandro you didn’t speak Spanish. I said nothing’’

‘‘Oooh, yer an asshole’’ Johnny was still laughing heartily. ‘‘All those times Ale and Rudy were talking in Spanish in front of us ye understood everything’’

‘‘Not everything’’ Simon admitted, and then looked down at Christine, to find her blue eyes on him. ‘‘I don’t really speak it, only understand part of it’’

She nodded slowly, but seemed lost in thought. Gabi decided in that moment to speak up.

‘‘Johnny and I are going to visit a couple of bars before going back to the apartment, do you want to come?’’

‘‘No’’ Both Simon and Christine answered at the same time, and looked at each other for a second before she added. ‘‘I prefer to go back to the apartment, to be honest. I’m drained’’

‘‘Not interested in going clubbing’’

‘‘Yer loss’’ Johnny grinned, standing up with Gabi in his arms, and kissed her before setting her down on her feet. Then, he bent down to kiss Christine’s covered cheek. ‘‘Behave yerselves, don’t do anything ah wouldn’t’’

‘‘Get lost, you wanker’’ She laughed, and waved them goodbye as they left the bar, holding hands.

Even with the loud music and the chattering of the other patrons around them, the silence between them was deafening.

‘‘When did you learn Spanish?’’ Christine looked up at him, and for a second she saw something in his eyes that made her doubt and regret her question. A flash of pain, or maybe anger, and amusement.

‘‘In another life, lovie’’ Simon answered, gently, and with his free hand brushed back a strand of her hair. ‘‘I’ll tell you about it sometime’’

‘‘Does it… have to do with that story you said you’d tell me…?’’ She almost leaned into his touch, her eyes closing, and he smiled under his mask.

‘‘It does’’ Looking around, he decided he had had enough human interaction for the day. ‘‘What do you say we go back to the apartment and watch something on the telly? A movie, or whatever. While those two are whoring around’’

‘‘Don’t say it like that’’ Christine laughed, standing up, and smiled down at him. ‘‘But I like the idea of watching a movie. I hope the sofa is more comfortable than the one in the common room’’

Simon grunted his approval as he stood up, watching with satisfaction how the men in the neighbouring table cowered when they saw his size. Sometimes, being that big was an advantage. With his hand on the small of her back, barely touching her, he guided her out.

The building door was close enough to not really have time to talk about anything, and when they took the stairs up instead of the lift, as always, they kept their comfortable silence. The apartment came with two copies of the keys, one that was in Gabi’s possession, and the other Christine used to open the door.

Maybe it was not as luxurious as the CIA apartment had pretended to be, but the apartment they chose looked cozier. With two bedrooms, one bathroom, an open plan kitchen connected to the living room, and a balcony with a great view of the beach and the sea. There were faint noises coming from the neighbouring apartments.

‘‘I’m going to have a shower first’’ Christine commented, going to the bedroom the girls had claimed, the one with the king size bed, to grab her toilet bag. The other had two single beds, and Johnny and Simon had flipped a coin to choose. ‘‘I forgot how hot this part of the country is. It’ll get worse when we go south’’

‘‘Take your time. I’ll shower after you’’ Simon sat down on the sofa and turned the tv on, trying, hard, not to allow his mind to wander. She flashed him a smile when she walked past him to the bathroom and closed the door. A couple of minutes later, he heard the shower working.

He had managed to half distract himself with a metalworking contest when his phone vibrated in his pocket. A text from Johnny.

In case ye need some, condoms are in my bag. Cheers!

And the twat added a winking emoji and an aubergine. Simon felt tempted to write something snarky back, but decided to just ignore the text and return the phone to his pocket, seething. Only to find that his jeans were more strained than normal, and his cock was fucking hard out of nowhere.

He looked at his crotch, half amused and half affronted, and tried to get more comfortable on the sofa so he could… No, not working. The noise of the water coming from the bathroom made his mind start wandering, and wandering, and… He tried to focus on the metalworking episode.

*

In the shower, Christine was having her own problems trying to distract herself, but to no avail. It had started with her wishing he had showered before, because in that case she’d be able to smell him, right? Because that wasn’t creepy or pathetic at all.

And one thing led to another, and now there she was, biting the inside of her hand, her back against the wall, and her index finger rubbing slow, soft circles over her throbbing clit. There’s my girl. Es mía (She’s mine). Because I don’t fucking know what I would do without you either.

Christine bit back a low whimper, with her head hanging low to avoid water in her eyes, trying to imagine his voice praising her. His hands on her skin, his fingers inside her. Lovie. She really didn’t enjoy her own fingers inside her because it never felt good enough. But just thinking about one of his long, thick digits, toying with her folds, slowly sliding inside of her…

I will ruin you

Her eyes snapped open, and she bit down hard enough on her hand to mark her teeth. But she forced herself to continue rubbing her clit in small circles, thinking about Simon’s voice, about his broad shoulders, his big hands, his strong arms…

No one will want you after I’m finished with you, whore

Simon’s wide back, Simon’s dark eyes that equally undressed her and made her feel safe, Simon’s dirty blonde or light brown hair, she couldn’t decide on the colour but she was dying to tangle her fingers in it, Simon’s mouth, with that big scar that crossed his lips and the smaller ones around it, and the scars on his chin and jaw…

Who would want a marked bitch like you

Simon’s hot tongue between her legs, teasing her clit and plunging deep inside her, Simon’s meaty hips between her legs while he pinned her down somewhere, wherever, Simon’s cock, that made her mouth water just by fantasizing about it, Simon’s strong thighs that she was dying to ride…

Christine slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor, too far gone for the voices in her head to ruin her this time, not this time, with Simon’s voice in her ears and the warmth of his forehead still on her forehead and…

She moaned his name. Like a whore. Like a desperate virgin. But she moaned his name as she came, harder than she had managed to come in the latest months, feeling hot water streaming down her cheeks. Salty water.

*

‘‘All yours’’

Simon looked up at her, startled, and for a moment, his eyes widened and his throat went dry as sandpaper.

Christine was standing there, smiling, with her hair still damp from the shower, wearing… pyjama shorts and a black t-shirt that looked enormous on her.

His t-shirt.

‘‘Where did you get that?’’ He grunted, smiling, standing up from the sofa, and she shrugged while sitting down exactly where he had been, curling up on the seat.

‘‘Mysteries of the universe’’

Simon hesitated, looking down at her and her smile. She seemed… happy. For what, he had no clue, but it warmed his heart.

‘‘We’ll talk about this later’’ He threatened mockingly, and she stuck her tongue out at him. He almost didn’t leave, but he did, before she noticed the growing strain in his jeans.

And the second he stepped into the still damp bathroom and closed the door, he felt it. Smelled it.

Her scent, everywhere. The sweet, faint scent of cherries that accompanied her whenever they weren’t deployed. He grunted while undressing, his hard cock springing free from his boxers and standing at attention, too heavy to really reach his stomach.

Inside of the shower, the scent was worse. Or better. He couldn’t decide as he washed his hair and then tried to focus on rinsing the sweat off his body, but the insistent weight between his thighs was making it difficult.

Before he knew it, his hand was around his shaft, his fingers tracing the vein on the underside, and he gritted his teeth. Her scent was making him go crazy, and as he slowly thrusted his hips forward, into his closed fist, he tried to imagine it was her hand. Her long, slender fingers around him, her body against his back, her tits pressed against his flesh, her lips on his scars.

Simon braced himself on the wall, using his forearm and dropping his forehead on the cool tiles of the shower, with a low grunt. What he wouldn’t give to shake his hesitance. What he wouldn’t give to feel her body against his, like in that goddamn dream that had made him cum in his sleep like a schoolboy.

He tried to imagine her lips wrapped around him, but his fantasy soon turned into something softer, more intimate. Her hand wrapped around his cock, and his hand guiding hers, while they kissed until their tongues hurt. Her pretty little moans, like the moan she had let out a couple of months ago in the gym while lifting weights and that had almost made him cum right there. Her giggles, like when she laughed at his jokes.

Her beautiful breasts, her thighs, God her thighs, what he wouldn’t give to have those thighs around his waist, or around his neck while getting drunk on her taste and fucking her with his tongue until she was a babbling mess underneath him.

Her voice telling him…

Simon had to bite his own arm when he suddenly came, embarrassingly soon but hard, spurting ropes of cum all over his hand and the shower wall. He growled her name.

God, what he wouldn’t give to not be afraid.

*

When he returned to the living room, Christine seemed engrossed on something on the TV, and when he sat down beside her, she almost jumped and fumbled with the remote to change channels.

‘‘What were you watching?’’ Simon asked, curious, trying to grab the remote and change back, but she kept it out of his reach, blushing.

‘‘Nothing! Something stupid I used to like when I was a kid’’

‘‘Well, let’s watch that’’ He shrugged, still trying to get the remote, and she hesitated.

‘‘Only if you answer something first’’

He stopped immediately and looked at her, expecting her question, but she seemed to hesitate even more. Until she sighed and looked right into his eyes.

‘‘Did you mean it?’’ When he just stared, without understanding, Christine explained further. ‘‘What you said to those idiots in the bar’’

Es mía (She’s mine). Simon’s shoulders relaxed, and his gaze softened.

‘‘I did’’

She smiled. He was still wearing a face mask, but she got rid of hers right at the door, as always, when they came back from the bar.

‘‘Ladyhawke’’ She whispered, giving him the remote, and he changed the channel back to what she was watching before, choosing the option to watch it from the start, in English. ‘‘It’s… my favourite movie since I was a kid’’

Simon smiled and raised an arm, a bit doubtful of his bold move. But she immediately moved closer, and he let his forearm rest on her shoulders as she made herself comfortable against his side.

‘‘Then I’m sure I’ll love it’’

#simon ghost riley x christine riot vega #christine riot vega #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod oc #call of duty modern warfare #cod original character #call of duty original character #cod fanfic #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty fanfic #cod fanfiction #call of duty oc #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty fic #cod fic #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #mw2 ghost #simon ghost riley #ghost x oc #simon riley x oc

[absolutely-esme]

My Headcanon for Liminals

I've been having a lot of fun posting headcanons, and I'm starting to realize just how many I've built up over the years, so here's another one.

So I've stated before that part of the reason why Danny and Vlad are so different is because Danny was inside of a portal when it turned on whereas Vlad just got a face full of energized Ectoplasm and other assorted nastiness. The still human and already ghostly halves of Danny fused into a cohesive whole in order to survive the opening of the portal and continued supporting eachother. Vlad's human half forcibly integrated his resistant ghost half as it formed in an effort to survive. Rather than a cohesive whole, Vlad is two dischordant halves.

That said, I do not consider Vlad's state the default result of humans being exposed to ectoplasm.

Part of it is because the exposure was violent and his human body was so incredibly unwell that it made sense for the part of him with less emotional attachment to it to want to escape. This illness did not stem directly from the ectoplasm. We know this much because other people exposed to ectoplasm did not get ecto-acne, and figuring out the involvement of the cola was what allowed the Fentons to cure it.

Part of it is because Vlad has a superiority complex. This means that, in any given state, Vlad considers his current way of being superior. As a human, Vlad considers humanity superior. As a ghost, Vlad considers ghosts superior. This leads to a whole lot of clash between the parts of his psyche which each consider the other half to be lesser. Combine this with the fact that each half despises the illness and associates the illness with the other half, and you get a whole lot of internal toxicity.

For the average person with ectoplasm exposure, there wouldn't be so much of a clash. They would take on some ghostly traits (more and more over time, with continued exposure) and maybe start doing some prep-work for ghosthood, but they wouldn't be trying to leave their human lives early. They probably won't have insane healing factors like Danny, but they won't be tearing themselves apart like Vlad either.

They're preparing for the afterlife, but they wouldn't be so eager to discard the human life they are still living. If you've ever had a favorite hoodie that you wore all the time until you loved it to pieces and it came apart at the seams, that's kind of the feeling. It's not the end of the world when you can't wear it anymore; you can wear other jackets when you're cold, but you want to hold onto it for as long as you can.

The more someone is exposed to ectoplasm (in terms of both frequency and amount), the more ghostly they will become over time.

A random person who just happens to live in Amity Park on the opposite side of town from Fenton Works and and was somehow never at the sight of a ghost fight, will probably just experience a slightly increased awareness of ghost-related stuff and perhaps a slightly smoother transition when their time comes.

Other kids at Casper high, who attend school with Danny every day and get caught up in ghost attacks sometimes will probably start to form the wispy beginings of their ghostly self. Sometimes you just catch a glimpse of what sort of ghost they are going to be. They may also develop some slight powers while still alive.

You look at Paulina carefully shaping and lacquering her nails into something both beautiful and dangerous, and for a split second you just know that, someday, she's going to be all claws and glittering scales and passionate pursuit of her goals. She will transcend the human form and shape herself into a work of art of her own design and a powerhouse none can deny. Then she turns to her friend and giggles over a funny story, and the moment passes; she's just another kid steadily making her way to adulthood.

She's just another kid until some jerk at the mall oggles her a little too blatantly and her jewelry flashes brighter than the lighting should allow, blinding him so that he trips into a fountain, and Paulina smugly watches him sputter before turning to walk away with a satisfied spring in her step.

Sam and Tucker, Who hang out with Danny every day and frequently explore the ghost zone with him, will start forming more of the foundation of their ghostly selves and probably develop more powers sooner. They are more likely to develop to a point of being able to take on a ghostly form while still alive.

Typically, a halfa formed through extreme, prolonged exposure like this would have a bit of separation between their human and ghostly halves, but without much discord between the two. However, with Sam and Tucker spending so much time around Danny during their formative period (and having so much less contact with any other ghost than with him), it's entirely possible that they would subconsciously learn the integrated system approach, in much the same way people pick up habits of speech from the people around them.

#Danny phantom #headcanon #ghost biology #liminal biology #Sam Manson #Tucker Foley #Paulina Sanchez #I did not set out to set Paulina on the track to become a beautiful eldritch entity #She saw what I was typing about liminals and told me in no uncertain terms what she would be doing #She just started planning her afterlife right in the middle of my headcanon #I would have expected her to become a humanoid ghost #Apparently that's not what she wants #Paulina is going to become some kind of #Ethereally beautiful and incredibly powerful creature #She will not be taking criticism on this #She may choose to accept worship upon attaining her true form #It will be awe-inspiring #I'm not going to argue with her #If you want to try and stop her #I'll be watching from a safe distance

[jotaromane]

bouncer! thorkell x fem! reader

this os does not take place in the original universe, but nowadays, precisely in a nightclub, i got this idea when i went to one for halloween lmao, i hope you’ll like this os anyway this os is a little longer than the others because i just had too much fun writing the clubbing part 

tw : unprotected sex ; rough sex ; dirty talk ; one night stand ; in a car

You just couldn't miss that night at your favorite nightclub. Indeed, the owners teased a night “2000s music only” on social media. You and your friend were so impatient to go. You did a before at your place, so you didn’t spend all your salaries by buying drinks. 

-I think you’ve drunk enough for now, you said by grabbing his glass from your friend’s hand. 

-I… i’M nOt DrUnk ! he stuttered. 

-Thorfinn, let’s go, you cut short. I don’t want to miss a single song. Imagine what would happen if we miss Poker Face… 

-You would never forgive me, he smiled. 

Thorfinn was your best friend. You met him at college, where the two of you were too shy to start meeting new people. You were forced to do a presentation together, and you instantly became friends. You discovered student life with him : bars, nightclubs, going on trips… It was reassuring to have him in your life. 

You approached the entry, and lucky for you, you didn’t have to stand in line.  -How’s my makeup ? you asked him. And my outfit ?  -You look gorgeous, as always ; don’t worry. What about me ?  You took his face in your hands so you checked if the glitter on his eyes had moved.  -Perfect, you said. I can’t believe you accepted to wear makeup ! 

You were now at the entry, facing two bouncers. They were very tall, and even if you came at this club often, you've never saw them. One of them was a true giant, blonde haired. His percent eyes met you and Thorfinn.  - Good evening, you said. Can we go inside ? -We’re dressed for the occasion, Thorfinn intervened. 

-Mh, said the second bouncer with no emotion in his voice. You can go. Have fun. 

The club was full, you couldn’t walk without bumping into someone. But the music was just as you expected, and you had a lot of fun with your friend. Due to your proximity, people would obviously thinked that you two were together, so nobody tried to importunate you.  -Stop calling, STOP CALLING ! you sang. 

-I don't wanna think anymore…Thorfinn responded while miming a phone with his hand.

-I GOT MY HEAD AND MY HEART ON THE DANCEFLOOR ! you both screamed more than sang. 

A few hours passed and while clubbing, you ordered so many more drinks, and Thorfinn started to feel sick because of the alcohol. You took him to the toilets, and he threw up while you were holding his long hair into a messy ponytail.  -Gosh, you said. That’s disgusting. What did you eat recently ? Shrimps ? 

-Sorry… he mumbled. Maybe I drank too much…

-The hangover will punish you, don’t worry.

You helped Thorfinn clean his face and you went back to the dancefloor, but the mood was gone. It was nearly 5am and most of the people were gone or too tired to dance. 

-I’m gonna call an Uber, you said as you left the club. 

The fact that there was no music anymore helped you think and manipulate your phone, even if the alcohol made your gestures unprecise.  -He’s on his way, you averted Thorfinn. 

-Okay, thank you, (y/n). It’s always a pleasure to hang out with you. You’re really my best friend. I wonder how my college years would have been without you… 

-Okay, okay, you said softly by patting his back. You’re my best friend too. 

You didn’t notice, but when he heard the words “best friend”, the blonde bouncer locked his attention on you. In fact, he had targeted you from the moment he saw you arriving at the club, but he thought you were with your boyfriend. But he decided to play it cool and pretend he heard nothing.  -Hey, lovebirds, he said to you. Do you guys need help ? 

-You… You’re talking to me ? 

The alcohol in your blood made your heart pulse when your eyes met his. He truly was huge.  -You’re very tall, you said like a curious child. 

He smiled, discovering some large teeth.  -And you’re very drunk, as I can see.

You looked away and saw Thorfinn join you.  -Yeah, you admitted. Maybe we took too many shots inside… 

-How do you and your boyfriend come home ? he asked, knowing the answer. 

-He’s not my boyfriend ! you tried to articulate. 

-For sure, Thorfinn added, nearly proudly. I can’t imagine having to live with her 24/7 ! 

You pretended to slap him.  -You are the unbearable one ! Remember our philosophy : no engagement before our 25 ! After that, if we’re not engaged, we will get married, not before ! 

-Of course, the bouncer said. Due to your age, you must make the most of life while you’re young. 

-Exactly !! you shouted, touching his shoulder. You’re totally right…uh…What’s your name again ? 

The bouncer raised an eyebrow as he felt your contact on him. Your hand was just so tiny on him. You couldn’t even cover one of his pectorals with your palm.  -My name’s Thorkell. 

-Thorkell…you repeated. What an original name. 

The Uber driver arrived at this moment and was stationed in front of the club. You opened the door and Thorfinn literally threw himself in.  -After you…you said ironically. 

-Sorry, (y/n). My feet just hurt so much. All this dancing stuff… 

When you started to sit in the car, Thorkell took your arm and forced you to watch him.  -I told you my name but I don’t know yours, he noted. Would you like to tell me around one last drink ? 

He smirked and you blushed. You never met someone this tall and intimidating. In fact, he was kind of hot. Maybe a little older than you, but who cared ? You looked at Thorfinn, silently asking for his opinion.  -(y/n) ! he sighed. Every FUCKING week ! Go, if you want to. But text me regularly. And you… 

He stepped out of the car and stood up in front of Thorkell.  -If you dare to hurt my friend or make her do things she doesn’t want to…

Thorkell threw him a look that meant “Don’t worry” and “Fuck off” at the same time, you couldn’t interpret it because of the alcohol. But you knew that Thorfinn wasn’t laughing at all. You kissed him on the cheek, and without taking his eyes off Thorkell, he kissed you on the forehead.  -Have a good time, sweetie. If you have any problems, you call me. I’m serious. 

-Sure. I’ll text you. 

The Uber got started and you turned back to Thorkell. He was patiently waiting for you, car keys in his hand.  -Don’t worry, he said. We don’t drink when we’re working. I can drive. 

-Drive to…? 

-Oh, I thought you would have understood that I’ve planned to take you to my apartment.

You were not against the idea, even if you knew nothing about him. One life, you thought.  -I don’t know, you smiled. Are you going to kill me in your basement ? 

-I promise I won’t.

Thorkell’s car was actually as big as his owner. It was an impressive black Range Rover.  -Wow, you whispered. 

-That’s my baby, he said proudly. I worked hard to afford it. So be careful with your heels when you get into it. 

-Sure. 

You sat on the passenger seat, and Thorkell was next to you. He was so close, you could observe him in detail while he drove out of the parking lot. He had some large hands, his nails were cut short and perfectly clean. He wore a black turtleneck pullover that suits his square jaws. His beard was neither too long nor too short.  -Are you staring at me ? he asked. 

-Uh, no, no… you mumbled. 

-Because I did, tonight. I noticed you as soon as you arrived at the club. You and this boy seemed to be very close. 

-Thorfinn is my friend, nothing more. We’re clear about that. 

-Fine, he concluded. 

He drove safely, so you authorized yourself to text Thorfinn instead of watching the road. “In my prey’s car. Everything’s fine. You ?”. As usual, Torfinn responded nearly instantly “Fine. Be careful, this man is truly a giant, he could easily hurt you.” By reading the message, you couldn’t help but think that if Thorkell hurted you - just a little - with these giant hands, you wouldn’t mind. At this thought, your legs started to squeeze. You knew why you were here, and so did he. 

Thorkell made the move for you, and placed his hand on your thigh. You said nothing. He ascended slowly to approach the spot, and your breath became short. You could feel your body preparing itself. All of your body got goosebumps.  -Your skin is so soft, he said with his eyes focused on the road. You know what, fuck off. 

You were concentrating on the contact of your skins, so at first you didn’t realize he had stopped the car in another parking lot. It was deserted.  -I know this place, he assured you. Nobody would disturb us. The windows are tinted. 

-Then what are you waiting for ? you teased him. 

Thorkell looked at you and you could tell he had hunger in his eyes. You thought back at the size of his teeth. God. 

He slipped up your dress so he could take off your pantties. He threw the underwear away and immediately his giant hand covered all of your cunt to caress you.  -Can we kiss ? you asked. I like kissing people.

-As you wish. 

His lips were surprisingly soft. You pushed your tongue into his mouth as he inserted two of his colossal fingers into you, making you gasp while kissing.  -Uhm… Like that, huh ? he growled against your lips. 

You nodded and took his face into your hands to intensify the kiss even more. He slowly caressed your g-spot, knowing exactly where it was. You whimpered and started sweating a little. 

-You hot, sweetie ? Let me undress you. 

Savagly, he pulled the thin straps of your dress to reveal your breasts. His eyes opened wide.  -How beautiful…he whispered. Can I ? he asked with a desperate look. 

-Please. 

Just as you expected, Thorkell wasn’t a gentle man when he had sex, especially in the back of his car. He ran to your nipples, by taking one in his mouth and squeezed the other between his thumb and his index finger. You arched your back to meet his contact more intensely. His other hand was still working on your intimacy. It was so good. You passed your hands through his hair and pulled them gently.  -Don’t be shy, he said against your skin. Pull my hair. 

After a little time, Thorkell raised his head to you, and his golden gaze made you melt on the leather seat. -And now, do you want me to eat you, little brat ? 

His eyebrows raised as he was waiting for your permission. -I… I don’t know ‘cause we danced a lot so I think I sweated and maybe the smell is…

-Let me tell you, lady, that I absolutely don’t give a damn. You want me to make you cum on my mouth or not ? 

You shivered as his words, and nodded by biting your lower lip.  -That’s what I thought, he teased. Put your back against the door so I can properly spread these gorgeous legs. 

His assault on you made you moan loudly. His large tongue circled your clit with appetite, and you tried your best not to scream, as his fingers still worked in you. You could hear him trying to keep his breath calm, but for sure he was so excited to. Your moans turned him on a lot. -Don’t be so loud, he ordered. Take this instead, you brat. 

And without any warning, he inserted his other index finger in your mouth. Immediately you sucked on it, circling it. Your eyes closed and your eyebrows frowned, you could feel your orgasm coming.  -Thorkell, you said. I’m…

-I know, sweetie, he cut you short. I can feel it by your pussy beating on my mouth. Delicious. 

Your orgasm striked you and you couldn’t help but squeeze your legs around his head, but he actually seemed to love that. 

You thought you were going to rest a little after that, but you heard the sound of his belt unbuckling.  -I assume that everything in you is huge, Thorkell, you teased. 

-You don’t have an idea, he smirked. Do you want to taste it before I fuck you like the pretty slut that you are ? 

He took off his clothes and you could barely believe it. You’ve never seen someone this big. All of his body was disproportionate : his shoulders, arms, even his legs were enormous. He wasn’t a normal human. And you could tell by the size of his erection, waiting for you. -Take it, if you dare. 

You posed your lips on his tip, took a deep breath, and started to swallow his cock, but you couldn’t take it all. Tears shone into your eyes as you sucked him the best you could. Thorkell sighed loudly. -That’s it, you little bitch, so desperate for my cock, huh ? 

You nodded, still sucking him, your saliva poured out of your mouth. He started moving his hips to make you take all of it, but you gagged loudly.  -Gonna ruin your pretty makeup, he promised while grabbing your neck. My turn to pull your hair, princess. 

He caught them so he could see your concentrated face working on him. His precum filled your mouth deliciously. You moaned on him, eyes closed to appreciate his taste and size.  -Slow down, or I’m gonna come in your mouth, I don’t want to. Nah, you know what, I have a better idea… 

He took your face in his hands so you couldn’t escape his animal gaze. He smiled largely, discovering his teeth.  -Want my cock inside of you, you slut ? 

-Ye…Yes, you gasped. 

-Ask properly for it, he demanded.

Your desire made you tremble, you felt your body so ready to take his length.  -Please, you said. Please, fuck me. 

-I like seeing those pretty eyes begging. Wanna see them while I fuck you. Ride me. 

You placed yourself on the top of him, and he took your breasts into his hands. He teased your nipples with his thumb making tiny circles on them.  -So hard for me, he murmured for himself. Are you ready ? 

-Please, you said desperately. 

He pushed himself into you inches by inches, taking a long sigh from you. You’ve never been filled so full by a man. Thorkell’s size left no space. -Be gentle, please, you asked. At first. 

-Don’t worry, darling, I’ll give you the time to get used to me. 

His movements were slow but deep, and you whimpered without any restraint, holding yourself to his shoulders. Your breasts were bouncing in rhythm. Thorkell thought that he had the most beautiful view in the world. - Now, go faster, you begged. 

-What a needy slut, he smirked. As you wish. 

With one hand, he caught your hair and reversed your head back. With the other, he strangled you so your breath was shorter. His thrusts now pounded you with no mercy.  -Move on it, he demanded. I know you can. 

He took your head back near his, and whispered in your ear. 

-You think I didn’t see you move on that dancefloor, you little brat ?  I know what that ass can do. You were having fun, didn’t you ? 

-Yes, I did. But my legs kind of hurt now, I…

He didn’t wait for your response and grabbed your ass so he could do the job himself. Due to his strength, you couldn’t help but start sobbing with pleasure. He noticed that and licked your tears away.  -I’m not done with you, you slut, so don’t you dare collapse on my cock or anything. I’m going to finish you properly. 

You started feeling weak, taking his cock was so exhausting, but it was also delicious. You managed to hold your explosion a little more. A strange fog covered your eyes. Thorkell saw it and slapped you.  -What did I said ? 

You didn’t answer. Instead, you looked him in the eyes, and they opened wide, as he slowed down.  -What, princess ? he worried. Did I hurt you ? Do you want me to stop ? 

-No, you sighed. Don’t stop, please… But slow down, please… I can’t take it anymore, I’m gonna come on your beautiful leather seats. Remember, this car is your baby. 

-You mean you’re gonna squirt ? 

-I… I think so… 

Thorkell’s eyes shone like you just told him he won at the lottery.  -Oh Lord, he mumbled. Would you let me take you to this state ? 

You gathered your last strengths and continued to ride him, as a response. He smiled, and rubbed your clit with his thumb. Only a few seconds later, it was too much for you, and you started to squirt over him, but he didn’t seem to care.  -Come on baby, you’re just too sexy moaning for me ! 

Your legs were shaking in an out of control way. Thorkell immediately slipped out his cock of your body and his seed squirted on your belly. He let go a long growl, as he caressed your face. You kissed him passionately. It was so good.  -Damn, he said, trying to catch his breath. That was an experience. 

-I agree, you murmured in his ear. Thank you for worrying about me. 

-Anything for a lady. 

Thorkell drove fast. You searched your phone at the same time.  -Do you want to rest at mine ? he asked. It’s 6am, your friend is probably asleep. 

-Hum, you responded. Why not. I’ll still text him so he doesn't worry when he wakes up. 

You texted Thorfinn “Prey’s under control. Gonna sleep at his apartment and then he will drive me home.” You focused on Thorkell again. -Did you like it ? you asked. 

-I loved it, baby, he smiled while placing his hand on your thigh. Usually, I don’t see my conquests again, but what if we… 

-Broke the rule ? you completed. I think I’m okay with this, I you’re able to fuck me like that everytime. 

Thorkell squeezed his hand around you, making you gasp.  -You don’t know a thing about what else I could do to please you, darling. 

this was a looong os but i hope you liked it anyway!! btw requests are open! <3

#thorkell x reader #thorkell x reader smut #vinland saga x reader #thorfinn #thorfinn x reader #thorkell #fanfiction #smut #+18 #dirty talk #vinland saga #manga #anime #knute #askeladd #requests open

[hopelessdelusional]

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

I wish you would come back

Wish I never hung up the phone like I did

And I wish you knew that

I’ll never forget you as long as I live

And I wish you were right here right now

It’s all good

Living in downtown LA has had many pros, especially for you and your friends careers. There were plenty of jobs, communities, and just life opportunities as well. You have enjoyed living in LA a hell of a lot more than your home state, just full of fun and exciting possibilities.

But the heat? The heat made you regret even stepping foot in this city.

You wanted to at least look approachable, wearing your most comfortable shoes, brown cargo shorts, a black tank top and one of Shoto’s old flannels. You put on some makeup, wanting to fit in with the people who will soon be filling up the area.

When you first arrived to the area, you were immediately greeted with an older man smiling from ear to ear thanking you for all of your hard work. You let out a sigh of relief and humbly told him it was a breeze. His assistant, who couldn’t have been more than 20 years old, handed you a clipboard with a packet of papers. Flipping through the papers, you realized you had zoned out the high pitch droning that was the assistance’s voice, making you cringe when she paused to stare at you.

“I’m sure you’re used to this though,” she awkwardly laughed, looking away embarrassed. The worst part about what she had said was that it was true. You had been given so many gigs and jobs in LA, this honestly was nothing. Try helping plan pride, now that was the most difficult thing you had done in a while.

“No one ever gets used to this job, but I think that’s why I love it so much. Always a new task coming at ya.” A part of you wasn’t lying when you said that, you honestly did enjoy a new task. A new problem that you could get your hands on and really think about and solve. The relaxed smile that you received from the younger woman did make you feel better, and she was soon waving goodbye walking to another person around her age. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You had put so much effort into working out a good schedule for all the gigs. Talking to so many managers and workers, and you had done so much research on all the performers tonight. You were ready, all of your friends were coming and you were safe. All you had to do was ignore the pain in your stomach and head, and keep moving.

And keep moving you did, because that’s all you found yourself doing. A good amount of people came up to you and made small talk, especially the workers. You had to go backstage and double check with the performers and managers about the photos you were going to take, many wanting to take professional pictures before the performance. A lot of them had very specific details for when you would take the photos, pushing your patience level but you would just smile and agree.

Time flew by quickly. Gig after gig, shot after shot the sun started to go down and the crowds started to get up. The more popular bands play later at night, so that’s when the more people started to flood in. You quite literally had to push your way through the crowd, flashing your badge at the people pissed at you to get your way to the stage. A lot of the performers wanted a shot from the crowd, which you really tried to come up with excuses for that but you were always quickly shut down. Being stuck in a crowd of sweaty LA people was not your definition of a fun afternoon, but the check was big enough for you to let it go.

As you taking a break at a (air conditioned) bar and mentally planning your next shopping trips with the girls, you were caught off guard with a violent poke in your ribcage.

Your head swung in the direction of the attack and was surprised to see Tenya and Ochako beaming at you. Ochako had her iconic pink skirt and a white tank top with a simple strawberry on it. Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail and her face was covered in glitter. Tenya was just wearing regular white cargo pants, but what made you smile was that he was wearing a pink polo shirt. He smiled at you knowingly, squeezing Ochako’s waist before letting her go to let her hug you. In her typical fashion, she tackled you in a hug and blabbered in your ear, just making you giggle uncontrollably. Unfortunately for you when she squeezed you it made your stomach pain worse, making you groan a little louder than you wanted to.

Ochako immediately broke away, a worried expression replacing her bright smile. Tenya also raced to your side as you felt the pain go back down, not all gone but manageable.

“What was that? Did I hurt you n/n?”

“Are you okay y/n? You’re not drinking right now are you? The doctor strictly said no drinking-“

“Guys,” you forced a laugh through your throbbing headache and swatted them away, frantically coming up with an excuse. “It’s just a period cramp.”


Immediately the couple’s shoulders relaxed as Ochako put her hand on her chest and took a breather. Tenya very seriously asked you if you needed anything, to which you quickly shut him down on and tried to change the topic.

Changing the topic was actually pretty easy with Ochako. She is very ADHD, her mind always all over the place. Not that you could say anything, as you found yourself being the same.

“Like literally a goth clown. I was like, ‘in this heat?’ But I swear to god top to bottom clown attire, just goth! Tell her Tenya!”

Tenya chuckled, nodding along and went more into detail. You smiled fondly at your friends, bathing in their energy. You needed this, seeing your friends was going to help you get through the day.

“Yeah people are pretty crazy here,” you turned your head to look out into the crowd. A part of you found yourself searching for those ash blond locks that you were all too familiar with. He said he’d be here for Jirou’s concert, having to finish up a shoot for the day so the texting has been down to a minimum. You couldn’t help but get nervous just thinking about seeing him. You felt so stupid, he was so magnetic, you couldn’t get away from this guy. Everything screamed at you to put distance between the two of you, but as cheesy as it sounds, your heart wanted nothing more than to feel his arms wrap around you once more.

“I’ve had a lot of people come up to me when I check over my work after taking a couple of shots of the performer. They typically ask me to take a picture of them. Most of them offer money but some of them don’t and I think that’s what gets me.”

The three of you chatted up some more, enjoying your break with the couple, but soon you had to get back to work. You said your goodbyes to them and jogged over to the stage once again.

The field had so many other booth set up, which was a huge difference from the last year. Now, there were plenty of local restaurant owners setting up booths, along with ice cream shops, and even certain activities you’d see at the fair. You appreciated all the hard work that was going into this, and felt prideful that you are apart of this.

“Y/n! Oh my god guys its Y/n!”

You slowed your jog down to the group that was in front of you. Mina, Kirishima, Kaminari, Sero, and another person that you had not met yet, but by the looks of it was Sero’s new partner Jordan. You had seen him in Kaminari and Sero’s videos, always noticing a different tension between the two whenever they interacted. When you brought it up to the rest of the group they immediately started talking about how they met in college and have been obsessed with each other since. According to Mina last night when she interrupted your call with Katsuki, Sero was up all night trying to figure out some big grand way to ask him out. Eventually it was 4AM and Sero just left the house, picked up some flowers, and went to Jordan’s house and confessed. Hearing the story melted your heart, and for a split second, you imaged Katsuki doing the same to you.

“Hey guys! Everyone enjoying themselves?”

The group all had giant smiles on their faces. They honestly looked very put together for the event that they were at, but that’s was just LA for you. Mina definitely had something to do with Kirishima’s outfit, because for once it wasn’t an entire outfit made out of athletic clothing. He had on gray, jogger-like shorts, but it matched nicely with the oversized Tupac muscle t-shirt. Mina had the same vibe, wearing a cotton nike crop top with jean shorts. She had her hair back with a headband and in a ponytail, which still showed off her beautiful pink curls. You noticed that the couple had matching bracelets, simple gold chains but with half of a heart hanging from them. Another sickly sweet couple think that made your mind flash with possibilities.

Kaminari was actually wearing a crop top from Jirou’s merch line, and black jean shorts which fit the black and purple tie-dyed shirt he had on. Meanwhile, Sero was wearing gray sweatpants and one of those compress shirts you’re like 99% sure he stole from Katsuki’s closet decked out in all sorts of jewelry. Black studs in his ears, silver simple layered necklaces, and a variety of different and colorful bracelets. Lastly, Jordan looked very cute in black cargo shorts and a vintage Dr Pepper shirt that you just had to ask where he got it from later.

“Hell yeah we are! The music is fire! Banger after banger, dude.”

Kirishima’s wide smile was contagious, making you grin in response. Mina looked lovingly at her partner, before looking in your direction.

“You’re good though right? I hate to be that person but Katsuki mentioned you being overwhelmed recently.”

The rest of the group now looked at you with worried expressions, which made you wave them off and smile politely.

“Trust me it wasn’t this gig stressing me out, just my other jobs I took.”

Kaminari’s jaw dropped, making Sero bust out laughing. Sero leaned into the crook of Jordan’s neck, laughing into his partner as they watched him with a soft expression on their face.

“Jobs? As in plural? I mean no wonder you’re fucking tired.”

The group all made pokes at Kaminari’s comment, and you chatted for a couple minutes before having to cut down the conversation short. You were actually able to get Jordan’s number so he could tell you how to get that type of shirt and more. Happily, you quickly hugged all of them before making your way back stage.

“There’s my favorite photographer! I was wondering where you were at.”

Kyouka embraced you in a hug as she greeted you, Momo quickly following to do the same. She grabbed your face and examined you, making you raise an eyebrow at her motherly actions. Kyouka just giggled shrugged at you when you shifted your gaze towards her.

She eventually let go, huffing as she did so.

“You look like you’re seconds away from collapsing y/n.”

Momo was very stern and serious, with her hands on her hips and eyebrows furrowed, but you just couldn’t get over on how cute she looked. Wearing a white baby tee with jorts, of all things, but she pulled it off like a model. Her long wavy hair was up in a ponytail, which was fed through her hat that she was wearing. She had her glasses on as well, making you just want to hug her and never let her go.

Kyouka on the other hand was a completely different look.

Her signature look was alternative, not exactly emo or goth. She was wearing small back shorts with fishnets and huge dock martins that you honestly had no idea how she performed in. With that, was a baggy purple tank top with another set of fish nets under, and of course her fingerless gloves. Her makeup was a consistent black and purple set of eyeshadow, eyeliner, and glitter, and her hair was back in a messy French braid. (Which was most likely the works of Momo, who was the boss at any sort of braid)

“Okay I think that’s a bit of a stretch Mo, besides the night is almost over and then I have three days off. I’ll be fine.”

You rubbed Momo’s shoulder to comfort her, which prompted her to hold your hand and smile gently at you. You returned the smile, then turned to Kyouka who was now talking to the guitarist.

She finished up the conversation quickly, and when they were out of earshot she let out a loud sigh.

“I swear to god why do people try to change the set list minutes before we perform?”

You laughed, completely understanding her frustrations with people.

“Yes, people are very complicated. That is why you’re my favorite customer, I know exactly what you like and you actually allow me to be creative with it.”

That seemed to lift Kyouka’s spirits, because she gave you one of her rare genuine smiles. The two of you hugged, and her and Momo shared a sweet kiss along with some banter before the singer went onto the stage. Instantly the crowd lit up, screaming at the top of their lungs, and you were able to catch the look of pure love in Momo’s eyes. You slowly backed up, and got a quick shot of her, which she surprisingly didn’t notice. Kyouka was going to love this picture, you just knew it.

The concert was a huge success. Your whole group was able to come together backstage after Kyouka performed. There, all of you enjoyed each other companies, as it has been a while since the eight of you had all hung out in a while. You got a couple of shots of your friends, just for your own personal scrapbook, before you felt your apple watch on your wrist start to blow up.

“Uh oh it’s the boyfriend.”

Hitoshi made his way towards you and tried to look at the many messages Katsuki had been sending you. You knew to move your wrist away and push him away, him just smirking at you the whole time.

“Not my boyfriend. But speaking of, where’s yours?”

Hitoshi’s eyes lit up in realization, and he groaned at you before saying his goodbyes to the group.

Izuku looked over at you laughing with furrowed eyebrows.

“What was all that about?”

Catching your breath, you answered with a huge smile.

“He promised to meet up with Kam after the concert.”

Quickly afterwards, you hugged your dearest friends and promised to make plans with them soon before going out into the half empty area.

The headache came back almost full force, slowing you down greatly but you ignored it as well as the stomach pain. You honestly had no idea as to why the pain wasn’t going away, it was almost like the pain meds were making it worse. However, you knew you had to pull it together so Katsuki didn’t freak out like your friends had been.

After a quick phone call, you found Katuki in a hat and hoodie. You grinned wildly, picking up your pace and embraced him in a tight hug.

“Woah you okay?”

Despite the comment he gladly hugged you back, making you have to pull away first.

“Yeah, long day. How are you?”

Like usual, conversation flowed naturally between the two of you. In fact, you were so relaxed that you when Katsuki bought you a drink you didn’t think twice. One more drink wasn’t going to kill you, maybe it would even help with the damn headache.

“Yeah, the festival was actually bearable this year, it was triple the size of last year so there wasn’t too many paparazzi or just randos taking my fucking picture.”

You snorted at his tone, being able to translate ‘bearable’ to ‘enjoyable.’

“They really outdid themself this year didn’t they? Actually, Kyou mentioned the same thing. She said it was a lot easier to get in.”

Katsuki nodded as he sipped on his bourbon, looking as beautiful as ever. For once, you let the “intrusive” thoughts win and brought your camera to your eye and snapped a picture. Immediately, Katsuki snapped his head in your direction with flames in his eyes. However, you were not intimidated, and bursted out in laughter. The only thing that got you to stop laughing so much was the stomach pain becoming increasingly worse. You slipped out a few “ouches” but Katsuki didn’t seem to notice.

When you straighten back up, trying your best not to grimace at the throb in your head, Katsuki gave you a look that translated perfectly to ‘what the fuck?’

You sighed, allowing yourself to relax and really look at Katsuki. That must had made him antsy, because you noticed he started to squirm in his seat uncomfortably in your serious gaze. Payback.

“You just look so good right now, wanted to take a picture.”

A rose red blush bloomed across his face, his eyebrows scrunching together like they always do when he’s frustrated. Before he could respond, however, the two of you jumped at an obnoxiously loud click sound. The two of you searched around you, and Katsuki was able to find the source first. He jumped up and immediately started cussing out the paparazzi. You watched, slowly sipping on your drink. The dude looked pretty young, and was scared shitless of Katsuki’s booming voice and intimidating build. It didn’t take much for him to run away from the blond, which made him make his way back to your seats.

“Sorry about that.” Katsuki mumbled, and you noticed he was genuinely embarrassed. You had honestly never seen him look so ashamed, so you reached out for his hand and when your hands made contact he looked back up at you with wide eyes.

Not knowing what to say, you hoped the smile you gave him was enough for him to understand. He grasped your hand in his, squeezing it, before letting go to grab his drink. The blush on his face was still noticeable, but not as cute as it was before.

“They’re probably gonna come up with some dumbass story about us dating or something.”

He was still mumbling, which really irritated you. Katsuki was never one to mumble, everything he said was loud and pronounced. He meant every word that came out of his mouth, so sure of himself. That’s honestly what drew you in, his command. Now he was fidgety and talking so quiet, you didn’t even know he could talk that quiet.

Instead of pointing it out, you just chuckled leaning back in your seat enjoying the sparkling stars above.

“Well that’s just a rumor, a very false rumor that will be long forgotten in less than a month.”

You felt Katsuki’s piercing gaze on you, so you shifted so you could make eye contact with him. There was uncertainty in his eyes, something you had never seen before. He was timid, but he also looked stern and serious.

“What are we y/n?”

There was a newfound ringing in your ears, and along with the pain, your stomach felt nauseous. You felt your mouth go dry, and your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. The maintained eye contact was eating you alive, only making these symptoms worsen.

Friends? You thought, but you knew, deep down, that wasn’t true. Deep deep down, you knew you were completely infatuated with the blond, wanting nothing more than to reach over this table and kiss him until you couldn’t breath. However, you could never admit to that. Admitting that outloud could ruin a lot of things right now. Not only your friendship with Katsuki, but possibly with Kaminari, Kirishima, Mina, Sero, and even Jordan. It would wreck you. You’ve worked so hard to maintain a good mental health, but you knew all that hard work would be long forgotten if things between you two would spiral. Mentally, you would spiral, putting you out of work for God knows how long.

No. You couldn’t admit to it. You didn’t care about those feelings you have for Bakugou Katsuki, you were not going to admit something like that.

“Katsuki.”

The tone in your voice was a warning, but of course that only challenged the blond even more.

“Because I know damn well we aren’t fucking friends.”

The words he chose were viscous, but you knew him. You knew he hid behind intense words and a deep voice.

“I don’t know what to tell you Katsuki-“

“Yes you do.”

His voice was louder, and that confidence and fight that you knew him so well of came back. The sudden outburst made your head throb, and you had to fight back a wince.

“You know that this? This is not some fucking friendship. But we sure as hell ain’t dating, so what are we y/n?”

A sigh fell out of your lips, mainly because of the increase in the negative feelings that you felt in your body. You couldn’t do this, not tonight, not when you felt like your whole body was going to burst.

“I’m sorry Kats, but we are just friends.”

Those words hurt when you said it, and you could tell Katsuki noticed it. The two of you kept this eye contact, but you felt your vision slip so you weren’t too focused on reading him.

“So your way of making friends is making out with them when your drunk and then after that maintaining a close relationship with them?”

“We were drunk-“

“That doesn’t mean shit, y/n.”

Katsuki was starting to get angry, you could tell. On any other day you would have shut him down. Yelled at him until your voice got hoarse, because he knew better than to snap at you like this, over something so unnecessary. But you couldn’t do that today, the exhaustion from the pain all day, along with mental and physical stress of the festival had defeated you entirely. You wanted nothing more than to just get up and walk away, but that wouldn’t be fair to Katsuki, so you stayed.

“Yes, it does. We got drunk, and because we’ve been single for way too long, we made out. After that we became close because of mutual interests and friends.”

At this point you felt like a parent talking to a child, but just like most children, Katsuki was having none of this.

“No, no y/n I’m not fucking stupid, and neither are you. That isn’t the whole story, there is something between us and I just can’t fucking figure out why you won’t do anything about that.”

He was standing now, making you look up at him. He was angry, sure, but you could tell there was more than that.

“Katsuki I don’t have to fucking explain myself-“

“Yes you do! Y/n you owe that to me. Why can’t we fucking date? Why can’t you be mine?”

There was a long pause between you two, the both of you holding your breath in dread and anticipation. You noticed the crack in his voice, only desperate to understand why you couldn’t just commit.

“I just, I can’t Kats. I’ve been through a lot recently and I don’t know what would happen.”

“What the fuck do you mean? Y/n, just stop beating around the bush! What aren’t you telling me?”

Growing annoyed, you rubbed a hand down your face, not caring about the delicate makeup you had put so much detail into this morning. You didn’t ever think he would snap at you like this, but you knew this conversation was coming. The more you called or hung out you felt him get more and more antsy, growing impatient of your currently platonic situation.

“I just have a lot on my plate and I have for a long time. I’m sorry but I just can’t risk a relationship.”

Katsuki just scoffed at your earnest tone, obviously hurt by your words. You saw his hands shaking, and the wave of nausea hit again.

“So-so what? So I’m just dead fucking weight to you? Do you even hear yourself right now?

You felt your heartbeat grow heavier, feeling that familiar feeling of anger making your blood practically boil. So you stood up too, ignoring the wave of fatigue that hit you and with as much energy as you could muster, you held your ground against the model.

“I did not fucking say that Kats and you know that. You know what I’m talking about, but your so wrapped up in your head you refuse to try and understand my position.”

“Position? Position?”

He’s walking away, a clear sign that his anger is starting to rise and he’s trying to control it. You just gave to be grateful that he’s still trying not to blow up at you, he cares about respects you enough not to do that. Katsuki quickly circles his way back to you, making eye contact again.

“I’m a human being, y/n. I understand pain and suffering, I understand hard times and being afraid. I also fucking care about you, and would be able to fucking take whatever bullshit you’re talking about. So the problem isn’t me not understanding your position, its you not wanting to deal with your emotions, because you’re a coward.”

There it is. There’s the harsh words you could see coming from a mile away. You knew he would say something like that, you knew it because it’s true, you are a coward. You didn’t want to face your problems a year ago and you don’t want to do it now. You drown yourself with work so you can avoid the real world, so you can forget about all of your mental and even physical health. You wanted to be angry with Katsuki, you wanted to fight back and argue until you won, but you couldn’t. There was no point.

You opened your mouth to say something anything, but you felt your breath go short. Slowly your surroundings started to spin, and you had to lean on a chair in order to keep your balance. All the pain and nausea started to hit you, and for a second you genuinely thought you were going to puke your guts out.

“Tch, that’s what I thought. Fucking hell.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Katsuki start to break. He leaned over and rubbed his face, not noticing the distress you were in. Because of the situation the two of you were in, you just wanted for him to home and sleep on it, and allow you to pass out on your bed.

“Look, y/n I’m sorry, I just-“

He sighed, struggling to find the words. You found focusing on his body language and tone helped distract you, so leaning on the chair you looked back up at him trying to look strong.

“I’m not trying to be a dickhead to you, I just need you to see this. I know I’m not crazy, but I’m crazy for you. What I said was harsh but I fucking meant it, I’m here for you godammit, so let me be.”

Finally he turned back to look at you, and you watched him as his face twisted in confusion

“What’s happening are you okay?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but at that exact moment your mouth went dry and you felt like you had just gotten hit in the head by a frying pan. It took you another moment to collect yourself. Katsuki tried to get closer to you but you refused to let him help you, so you moved away from him going to the other side of the chair.

“I just need to go home, I’m sorry Kats.” you slowly released your grasp from the chair and wobbled off, feeling your strength slip away with each step you took. You heard Katsuki call your name, and you would have felt fucking awful for leaving him alone, just standing there at the bar. You knew this hurt him, but you couldn’t think about anything because of the pounding in your head. Yes, this was stupid. You could have just asked for help, what was happening to you was not healthy, and you should have asked Katsuki to take you home. And yet, you couldn’t. You couldn’t let Katsuki see you like that. You wouldn’t ever let him pity you, ever let him think of you less. You tried to listen to what he had to say you really did, and most of it was true, but you didn’t want to give in. Not yet.

Somehow Hitoshi found you wondering and immediately knew something was wrong. Tears were streaming down your face and by the time his hands reached you, the ringing in your ears made you completely deaf. With your head spinning and the lack of energy you had in you, you felt your body double over. Slowly your hearing came back, but your eyes refused to stay in focus.

Before slipping into unconsciousness, you listened to a faint but familiar song playing from one of the nearby speakers.

You always knew how to push my buttons

You give me everything and nothing

This mad mad love makes you come running

To stand back where you stood

I wish you would, I wish you would

I wish you would, I wish you would

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

i wish you would

just a reminder the character Jordan is NOT mine but the lovely @kotoprincesa !! thank u so much for allowing me to use ur oc i love him sm🫶

LETS GOOOOOOOO PLOT PLOT PLOT this shit was a DOOZY bro how y’all feeling?? 🎤🎤 *grabs mic* well IM feeling fucking awesome like y’all this is so exciting omg are y’all excited??? bc IM excited!!!!!!

ANYWAYS (lol) as always if you have any questions or just wanna talk my inbox is open! have a great day y’all!

love ya!

fun facts! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

- it’s gonna take a while for the fans to adjust but they’ll come to love the new couple🫶🫶🫶

- toshi and kam wanna wait to release it but sero literally could NOT wait to post his partner :((((

- y/n zones out a LOT when they don’t wanna listen and it’s very noticeable

- ko and tenya are 100% the type of couple to do matching stuff and you CANNOT change my mind

- idk where the idea of a goth clown came from, it was like 2AM when i wrote this. maybe that’s just like an inner demon of mine or smth

- mina had to fight kiri to wear actual clothes he was pouting like a baby and the rest of the squad was just watching giggling

- but of course once he put everything on he LOVED it and couldn’t stop kissing mina (that’s what made the gang walk away in “disgust”)

- Kaminari in crop top supremacy🛐

- sero LOVES him some jewelry and Jordan noticed and started making little bracelets for him (sobs)

- they for sure have matching spider-man pjs

- i CANNOT and WILL NOT get enough of momo and jirou like HELLO?

- but can we talk abt the SHIT yn had gone thru for this festival like😭😭 the poor thing is getting abused just for the good shot

- hitoshi is such an ass but he’s even MORE forgetful

- kam was pouting when he was late and had to make it up to him by cuddles and junk food (as one does)

- i fucking hate paps man

- so does kats

- i don’t rlly wanna do a fun fact on their fight so….

- hitoshi has like a spidey-sense when it comes to yn’s danger LMFAO

←Prev┊˚✧ ┊Next→

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ updates every wednesday and sunday! happy wildest dreams wednesday ✧.*

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ TAGLIST IS OPEN just message or comment: @lovelytayy @0anodite0 @bakugouswh0r3 @amethyst123 @nijirosz @dabis-vigilnate-girl @allnamesredacted @ch3rryhaze @ectoplasmictoast @cathwritestragediesnotsins @tati-the-fangirl @autumnfay @call-me-prodigy @chuugarettes @sammyam @kotoprincesa @bubblewordsofsodapop @biggestbeequeen @tqnk @el-hart

#smau #social media au #bakugou x reader #sero hanta #bakugou katsuki #denki kaminari #kirishima eijirou #mina ashido #iida tenya #ochako uraraka #izuku mydoria #shoto torodoki #shinsou hitoshi #momo yaoyaruzo #jirou kyouka #my hero academia #mha #mha smau #my hero academia social media au #my hero academia x reader #mha original character #oc #original character #wildest dreams wednesday

[deirdreskye]

Commercial I would produce as an advertising executive:

Night falls upon a normal suburban American middle-class home. The lights inside go off, the family is off to bed.

A nude woman crawls from a storm drain. Her skin is wrinkled and bone-white, her sagging breasts covered by her filthy black hair. She crawls on her hands and feet like a spider, slowly, silently, like nothing human. The front door is locked so she crawls into the back yard where the family's dog whimpers and cringes from the sight of her. She gropes at a window, unlatches it, and climbs inside.

She creeps through the kitchen, up the stairs, past the bedroom where the parents sleep, down the hall. Her wrinkled hand reaches for a doorknob, twists, and pushes it open, silently, ever so silently, and now she's inside the baby's room.

A portrait of Jesus Christ hangs on the wall over the baby's overturned crib. The woman is hunched over, spine bulging from the taut skin of her back, crunching, chewing, gnawing. She eats every part of him, bone and blood and organs all.

In the morning, the mother shrieks and wakes the whole house. Father and the other children come rushing to the baby's room to see mom holding the baby boy unharmed, although the crib fell over on its side in the night. No one can explain how this came to happen, or why the baby did not wake, but the baby is safe and well though it gave everyone such a fright. The family will forget this incident soon enough, but it will nag at the back of the mother's head from time to time when she can't fall asleep at night.

The boy grows up.

He does not learn to speak until he is five. He screeches inconsolably while the family is out to eat at the Cheesecake Factory. A boy on the playground calls him a retarded faggot and punches him in the stomach. He is so bored at church he picks his skin until it bleeds. His brothers mock him relentlessly for crying all the time.

He masturbates to a drawing of Sonic the Hedgehog and Dr. Robotnik kissing passionately. He smokes cigarettes in a parking lot with a boy in a trenchcoat and a girl in Cookie Monster pajama pants. His father slaps him hard in the face when he comes home from school wearing black nail polish.

A football player performs oral sex on him in the back of a pickup truck. He sells ecstasy to the pastor's daughter at an exorbitant markup. It's two in the morning on a school night and he is stinking drunk when he wakes his parents trying to sneak back into the house. He's wearing a dress and fishnets and winged eyeliner and lipstick and his father beats him bloodier than ever before. Mother weeps bitterly with a black eye as she prays for her youngest son's eternal soul. The next morning, the boy is long gone. His father comes to believe he will never see his son again but he is so very wrong.

Some years later, police cars burn in the night and the flames grow so bright the shattered glass on the sidewalk look like so many glittering jewels. Bodies litter the streets, some in riot gear and many in plain clothes. The streets are silent save for the distant, so very distant wail of police sirens. Long after the flames die out, an officer stirs and moans faintly in pain as he hears the sound of boots trodding upon broken glass.

He's so delirious he thinks his deliverance is upon him when a dozen black-clad figures surround him. A gloved hand pulls the officer's gas mask off to reveal the bloodied face of a middle-aged man.

"I've missed you so much, daddy," the antifa says, gayly giggling.

"Son?" His father croaks weakly.

"That's right, papa. It's me. I've accepted our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ into my heart and I'm ready to come home!"

His friends laugh uproariously as he reaches into a backpack and produces a freshly-looted, brand new iPhone 17 shrink-wrapped in its original packaging. The night rings with howling laughter as the boy recites the Lord's Prayer, slamming the box into his father's face.

"Our father,"

Crunch.

"Who art in heaven,"

Crunch.

"Hallowed be thy name,"

Crunch.

Think different. Apple iPhone.

[sweetsweetjellybean]

In The Cold November Rain Part 9 *18+ MDNI*

Eddie Munson/FemReader Steve Harrington/FemReader

TW: Story runs congruent to events in the show. If you know what happens in season 4, then you'll know how this will end *Be warned.* 18+ Eventually Smut, Angst, High School Fuckery, Drinking, Drugs Let me know if I miss any. NSFW Lots-o-smut

Can you have two great loves in a lifetime? 

You've had the ideal childhood in Hawkins with your best friend & protector Steve Harrington. When it's ripped away, can you pick up the pieces? Eddie Munson may be able to help.

A story about the pain of growing up, unrequited love, and loss.

Part 9/13 Masterlist Ao3

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AN: This is a short one but my favorite part. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I am beyond grateful to everyone who has read. Your comments, reblogs, and likes mean more than I could express in writing.

Sincerest Thanks To @loveshotzz who can be found most evenings & weekends in Eddie's bed.

Inspired by @loveshotzz & notes by @eddieandbird​

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A letter of early acceptance to Purdue arrived one cold afternoon in January. Your mother cried, and your dad gave you one of his big bear hugs. All you could do is stare at the words in shock. You were leaving Hawkins. The Purdue campus was in West Lafayette. Roughly a hundred and eighty-six miles from Eddie. The undefined and easy relationship you shared suddenly became vastly complex. Before you got the courage to tell him, the guidance counselor posted a list of Purdue attendees on the bulletin board outside the office. Eddie was standing in front of it, his fingers skimming the names when you came out of American history. His head turned, and his eyes caught yours as other students passed between you on their way to the next class. His face remained neutral before he turned and walked in the opposite direction. He wasn't at lunch, and no one at your table knew where he was. 

The snow makes a crunching sound under your boots as you tromp through the woods behind the school. It's pretty here. Quiet. A fresh coat from the storm last night makes everything sparkle like it's covered in glitter. A short gust of cold air blows through trees as you approach the clearing. Eddie is sitting at the picnic table alone, smoking, wearing a green beanie that matches his plaid scarf. His leather jacket zipped up tight, trapping his body heat inside.

"What are you doing out here, Princess? It's too cold out for you. Be a good girl and go back inside."

"It's too cold out here for you, too," you say, enclosing his red fingers between your mittened hands. "Come inside with me, and I'll give you half my turkey sandwich. I think my mom might have packed some of those pretzels you like so much."

"I can't," he says, standing. "I have somewhere to be."

"Where are you going?" You ask, following him through the woods towards the student parking. 

"Since when do I answer to you, Your Highness?"

His black boots leave behind deep footprints, and you try stepping where he walked. 

"Are you fucking skipping class again?" He stops suddenly, and you run into his back.

Careful, Princess. You're starting to sound like a sailor." He says over his shoulder before he starts walking again. 

"So, where are you going?" You ask again, resuming your game, hoping in and out of the holes in the snow. 

"Rick got some new product. I need to stock up before the weekend."

"And that's more important than school?" 

"Yeah, it is. That's how I make money. Not all of us have Daddy's credit card." 

"If you need money I-" 

He cuts you off and spins around so quickly you almost lose your balance. 

"Don't even fucking finish that sentence, Sweetheart. I don't want a fucking thing from you. You got it! Not a fucking thing!" He yells.

"If you keep missing class, you're not going to graduate." He looks at you incredulously and steps closer, crowding into your space. 

"What do you care? You're gonna be out here so fast that your graduation cap will spin. Off to Purdue. Hawkins will be dust in the rearview, just like everyone in it. Good for you. God knows you are too good for this town."

"I thought…maybe…Can you come with me?" You look at your feet when you ask and push the snow around with the toe of your boot. He laughs in your face. "What the hell am I going to do in Lafayette?"

"People move all the time, Eddie. It's not that big of a deal."

"What reason would I have for moving?"

"I thought being with me might be enough." He starts moving again, and his van becomes visible through the trees. 

"Don't worry. I'm sure you won't have any trouble finding a roommate."

"That's not what I'm asking for, Eddie."

"Then what do you want? What the fuck do you want, Princess? I'm so fucking tired of guessing." The white puffs of his breath float in the air, and his loud voice bounces off the snow-covered trees. A few birds squawk in complaint and fly off. You stay silent. "Look, you don't need me to hold your hand, and I got shit going on here." 

"Why are you pushing me away?"

"I can't push you away if you already have one foot out the door. You're not my mother, and you're clearly not my girlfriend. The last thing I need is fucking nag." You've reached his van, and he opens his door and climbs in the driver's seat.

"I hate you right now." And you mean it. He said he wouldn't hurt you, and you're torn to pieces.

"I hate you too. You're acting like a bitch." He spits out as he slams the door and drives off. 

The rest of the day feels like you're underwater, your body fighting against the current. The voices of the people around you are muted and far away. When the last bell rings, you drive straight home. Crawling fully clothed into your bed, hiding under the covers. Oblivion is your comfort. When you don't come out for meals, your mother gets concerned. She yanks the bottom of your shade, and it springs up, flooding your room with light. Peeking out from under the comforter, you lie and say you're sick. Sleep is what you need. After she leaves, you pull the shade closed. Monday morning, you don't recognize yourself in the mirror. Matted hair and dull red-rimmed eyes reflect back at you. Eddie wasn't at school, it should have been a relief not to see him, but it just made you feel worse. After second period, you find a note in your locker.

I know I fucked up. Please come over after school. 

You don't wait that long. Grabbing your keys, you run to the parking lot. Through your half-frosted windshield, you can see Eddie sitting on the steps of his trailer like he planned to wait in the cold for you all afternoon. He rips open your door and drags you out before you can take the key out of the ignition. He pulls you to his chest, holding you tightly like he's afraid you'll float away. Clinging to him, you keep your eyes closed, absorbing his warmth, breathing him in. No words are spoken. There are no apologies, and there are none needed. You're telling each other everything you need to. It could have been ten minutes, but it felt like hours, standing together, your breaths turning to ice in the winter air. Finally, your deprived lips meet after being apart for too long. They seal in a kiss that nothing could have broken. He picks you up by the back of your thighs, and your legs wrap around his waist. Still kissing, he carries you inside.

You're on your back with your knees pushed to your ribs. He's inside you moving imperceptibly slow. Chests pressed together, hearts aligned, their rhythm changing to sync. The feel of his soft skin is hot under your fingertips, his muscles flexing and releasing while your arms hold him tight. It's impossible to be closer. Mouths open, just a fraction apart, trading kisses and swallowing each other's exhales. His gaze tethering you. Everything is heightened. The head of his cock dragging against your inner walls. Every place your slick skin touches, you're set ablaze. This feels different. He feels different, like he's cherishing you. You wonder if you're making love to him.

"Tell me what it would be like in Lafayette," he says, kissing a slow path up your jaw. Wet and open-mouthed tasting your skin. "Daydream for the both of us." Your hand moves to his ass, trying to press him in deeper on the upstrokes.

"We'll find a tiny apartment that we can barely afford. Maybe it will be over the bar where your band plays. I'll waitress there after class, and on weekends so I can listen. We'll be tripping over each other. We'll fight and yell. It will be hard to be together but so much worse to be apart. And at night. You can spend the night inside me."

"That sounds beautiful, Princess." He moves from your jaw to your temple.

"What's your dream?" you ask, pushing the hair from his face.

"You already know it. My dream was to be with you." He retakes your mouth, and you don't discuss it again.

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Part 10

Tag List @boomhauer @onlyangel-444 @breehumbles @myobmaya @arsenicred @kiki17483 @stolen-in-moonlight @sometimesamysometimesjo @ladybug0095 @sammararaven

I'm happy to add you to the list!

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #joe kerry #joeseph quinn #stranger things fanfic

[lightningandfireinmybones]

don’t know if you’re still taking requests for prompts but is possible can the audience get 14, 15, 36, 46, 54 all in one. thank you so much for all the wonderful writing you’ve blessed us with so far btw 🥺❤️.

HELLO MY LOVE I WASN'T IGNORING YOU I WAS JUST FINISHING UP CHAPTER 20 BUT HERE WE GOOOOOOOOO

“i want to taste you” & “open your mouth” & “you’re mine” & “you feels so good” & “don’t forget who you belong to”

(18+ !!!!!

horny jail bc we're leaning into the uncle thing in an au where it's not normalized for targs,,, you've been warned and my ticket to every religion's hell has been booked in advance so no need to remind me)

"Aemond! What the fuck-"

"Don't," Aemond hisses, continuing to drag Valaena down the hallway, the sounds of the party dying behind them the deeper into the house they go.

"Don't what? Don't object to being manhandled out of my brother's birthday?" Valaena aims a kick at Aemond's groin, one he avoids by throwing her into her darkened bedroom.

"Don't," Aemond grits out, following her in and slamming the door shut behind him, "dance with another man like that in front of me."

In the purple glow of the LEDs surrounding her bed, Aemond can see Valaena cross her arms over her chest, just accentuating the swell of her breasts over the edge of the corset top he loves and hates at once. The second he'd walked into Jace's birthday party to see Valaena dressed in a tight black and gold corset with leather pants molded to the curve of her ass, he should've known the night would bring nothing but trouble.

Seeing her grind with Cregan, Jace's best friend, on the makeshift dancefloor had tested his patience until he'd finally snapped and dragged her away.

"Oh?" Valaena arches a brow at him, accentuating the scar on her face, the one he'd given her. "Don't grind my ass against another man's dick? What, would it be okay if I ground my ass against a woman then?"

"Don't let anyone else touch that body. That ass is mine." Aemond leans against the door, blocking her way out, staring down at her as he breathes through the last of his patience.

"We're not together anymore, Aemond! You left me, remember? I can dance with whoever I want!" Valaena storms closer, teetering in the heels she's wearing, slamming her finger into the center of Aemond's chest.

"Valaena. You're mine. You always have been and you always will be," Aemond declares, grabbing her wrist and spinning her around, slamming her back against the door. He pins her wrists above her head in one hand, slots his knee between her legs, right in the cradle of warmth between her thighs. Every rational thought, every sense of self-preservation deserting him at the jealousy coursing through his veins.

"You said you were my uncle, just my uncle," Valaena pants out, her hips flush against his. "A good uncle doesn't rub his thigh against his niece like this."

"A good uncle doesn't do a lot of things," Aemond trails his hand up her side, ghosting over her breasts, just grazing her collarbones, caressing her neck. "But you're not a very good little niece, are you? Good nieces don't dress like this to tempt their uncle. Good nieces don't rub their needy little pussy on their uncle's thigh."

He tightens his grip on her throat. Giving into temptation, he licks the glitter from the elegant column of her neck.

"Tell me to stop," Aemond nips at the racing thump of her pulse. "Tell me you don't want me."

Instead of restoring sanity to them both, Valaena moans his name.

"Kepus," she says breathily, "I want to taste you."

The words are knives to the last shreds of his self-control.

In one motion, he's pushing her down to her knees, gripping her hair in his hands as he forces her chin up to look at her. Lavender eyes glitter at him, a flush working down her chest, the dark edge of a nipple poking over the edge of the corset.

"Open your mouth," Aemond says darkly.

Valaena obeys nearly instantly, lush lips parting and pink tongue poking out like she's waiting for him. Her hands are scrabbling at his hips, the metallic clang of his belt buckle the only sound in the room above their harsh breathing and the distant thud of a rap song's bass.

His cock springs free, Valaena's tongue darting out to lick at the head like it's a lollypop, big eyes on him the whole time.

He pulls the hair in his hand harshly, tugging hard enough to jerk her head back.

"No teasing. You want your uncle to fuck your mouth? Fine. Take it, Sweet Niece."

Without warning, Aemond thrusts forward, his cock disappearing deep into Valaena's mouth. She chokes nearly immediately, hands coming to clutch his thighs for stabilization. He doesn't give her any time to adjust, ruthlessly taking her mouth for his own.

Guilt doesn't exist. Time doesn't exist. The way her father is going to kill them both doesn't exist.

The only thing that is real, that is true, is the warmth of her mouth, the tears gathering in the corner of Valaena's eyes, the flick of her tongue across the head of his cock when he pulls out.

"You feel so good, taking my cock so well," Aemond groans, pushing her head deeper onto him. "You wanted your uncle's cock in your mouth? You wanted to be a dirty little whore for me, on your knees and loving every second of it?"

Valaena moans around him, the vibrations traveling up his spine to lodge in his brain. She loves this. She danced with Cregan to start this.

Fuck. They'd never escape each other.

He is unforgiving, but she takes every inch of him, choking and gagging around the thick length. It is heaven, it is hell, it is every condemnation they deserve mixed with absolution they do not.

With his fingers digging into the back of her neck, Aemond comes with a cry of her name.

Every drop, every spurt down her throat, she takes, swallowing with fervor, sucking him for all he's worth. It spills out of her mouth, her tongue following, an obscene scene dragging him down.

When he can finally bear to part from her, he pulls himself out of her mouth, crouching down to her level. Mascara tracks run down her cheeks, her lips are swollen from the abuse, but her eyes are bright. Happy.

Aemond runs his thumb over her lip, catching a stray drop of his cum. He pushes his thumb past her lips, into the sweetness of her mouth.

"Don't forget who you belong to, Sweet Niece."

#i leaned into the uncle thing #might as well enjoy the ride if i'm going to hell #enjoy you heathens:') #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fanfiction #hotd fanfic #tdopom fic #ask #minors dni

[babybammargera]

The boys when you wear kinda heavy makeup/doing their makeup.

Bam:

He definitely watches the whole time you get ready.

Compliments you the whole time.

Picks up random makeup items and asks what they do.

He asks you to do his eyeliner all the time.

Like almost daily.

"Hey when you're done with that can you do my eyeliner?"

Will kiss you just to mess up your lipstick/lipgloss. (Even if you aren't a couple)

You put eyelashes on him once and the amount of sass radiating from that boy could power his hummer.

He's secretly your practice dummy when it comes to makeup.

But nobody knows.

Not even Ape.

Ryan:

Watches silently while you put on makeup.

He will let you do his makeup.

But only if he can do yours.

"Come on it can't be that hard I watch you do your makeup all the time."

He doesn't do half bad on your makeup.

Will 100% kiss you on the cheek smudging lipgloss everywhere

Spins you toward the mirror grinning.

"See I told you it would be easy"

Somehow ends up with half an eyelash hanging off and smudgy lipgloss.

Bc he won't stop touching his face.

"Ry seriously stop you're making it worse and the more you mess it up the harder it's gonna be to get it off."

Johnny:

Constantly telling you how talented you are.

"How did you get it to look like that? That's awesome."

He's talking about your eyeliner.

He let's you put simple makeup on him and wears it around set for at least an hour and a half.

He asks all the boys how he looks.

Bats his fake eyelashes.

Walks around talking like a lady the whole time.

Calls himself Patty (idk why he just does)

Pontius:

Dude will straight stop you mid makeup on yourself

To ask you to deck him out in drag.

And he's serious.

"You do your makeup so well can you make me look like those people on drag race."

At first you are kinda iffy about doing it bc he can't sit still for the life of him.

And when you do he walks around in his bunny outfit.

Posing and bragging about how pretty he is.

Brags about you making him pretty.

Steve-o:

Appreciates the effort you make to feel nice.

Insists you teach him bc "it looks really hard."

Loses interest pretty quickly after you tell him most makeup isn't edible.

"This looks like candy and you're telling me I can't eat it?"

Sober Steve won't let you go much further than putting some lipgloss and lashes on him.

But drunk Steve is a whole other story.

Full face of makeup walking around the party

Shirtless and trying to make out with whoever is closest to him.

Ehren:

Cute little compliments often.

Kinda appreciates from a distance.

But if he needs makeup for a bit he's asking for your help.

He's also the kind of friend you want around at the end of the night if you get too drunk.

He's watched to put on and take off your makeup on set enough to know what to do.

Carefully peeling your false lashes off and putting them away.

Then removing or helping you remove the remainder of your makeup

Wouldn't want his pretty friend to break out.

And you love him for that.

Dave:

Calls you pretty all the time

Compliments you more when you aren't wearing makeup.

Not that he doesn't like it he just thinks you look good in general and don't really need it

Unlike the others tho he's not too keen on the idea of you putting makeup on him.

But after darf showed up creating a particularly annoying experience bam and ry hold him down.

And you make him look like a snooty rich girl.

I'm talking lots of pink, glitter, and lots of highlight.

With the exception of DARF written on his forehead with eyeliner in bold letters.

@y34hdud3

Edit I forgot about the s/o part but some of them work w that. I'm sorry

#jackass #jackass boys #jackass fanfic #jackass headcanons #bam margera #ryan dunn #johnny knoxville #steveo #danger ehren #dave england #chris pontius #viva la bam #cky #steve o #bammy writes

[illylli]

Let Me Into Your Heart | Eddie Munson x fem!Reader (18+)

→ Eddie decides to join in the fun at the Hawkins county fair, though he seems to derive more fun from tormenting you. He sets out after you with the intent of finding out why you dislike him so much, and gets a lot more than he bargained for.

→ 5k words: minors DNI; includes eddie trying to be mean but failing miserably because he’s a softie, PDA, name-calling, oral (male receiving), spanking, hatefucking, p in v (wear a condom folks), overstimmed

♫ mood: ‘me and your mama’ by childish gambino

A cloudless night, crisp autumn air, and the blinding lights of fair rides. It was just the thing you needed after a busy week full of assessment work and work work, your employee nametag left abandoned on the counter back at the Family Video.

Since starting there you’d grown closer to Steve and Robin, and tonight was one of many outings you’d been invited to now that you were part of their inner circle. You riffed off each other’s humour perfectly; you were always laughing to the point of tears around them, and felt a twinge of self-satisfaction whenever you elicited the same reaction from them.

Despite this, they had a longer history, thus had their inside jokes you couldn’t keep up with. Something about Russians and flayed people? You still weren’t sure. But you knew not to interject when they got to reminiscing about some crazy sounding adventures.

When you arrived to the ferris wheel, glittering with lights along its metal hinges, the two were so immersed in one of those conversations you didn’t quite know how to involve yourself in, so left them to enter the two-seater car ahead of you.

Robin reached back with grabby hands as the wheel spun on. “We will be reunited soon, my brave friend.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at her dramatic predisposition, sliding into the car behind them. Robin turned back around to Steve, and you could hear their bickering resume.

“Any single riders?” The ride conductor asked the lineup of people waiting to get on. You tapped your nails against the bright yellow enamel of the ride car, feeling a little FOMO as Robin and Steve dangled out of reach.

You felt the car sway a bit as the second passenger clambered in. You didn’t look at them, dreading any awkward small talk, wanting to opt for a silent ride and simply enjoy the view.

The conductor pushed down the bar to hold you in place, your hands automatically resting against the cool metal. That’s when you caught the glint of familiar rings holding onto the bar beside you.

“Funny meeting you here,” Eddie said by way of greeting, his signature grin lit up by the flashing lights.

Your heart sunk, and you turned to the conductor as he pulled on the lever to initiate the ride.

“I want to get off.”

“Is it an emergency?” He asked, bored, his hand still on the lever.

You glanced at Eddie, who raised an eyebrow, amused.

“Yes.”

The conductor looked annoyed. “Unless it’s a medical emergency, I can’t stop the ride. If you’re scared of heights, close your eyes.”

“Scared, (Y/L/n)?” Eddie teased.

“Fuck you.”

He pushed his reeboks against the edge of the footrest, tipping his weight forward, then backwards. The car screeched on its hinges, rocking back and forth, and you felt your hands tighten around the bar of their own accord.

“You’re going to kill us,” You warned. Eddie just laughed. “Seriously, stop it!”

He pushed his face into your space, his sly smile aggravating you to no end. “Only if you kiss me.”

“What are you, twelve?” You shoved his face away.

Eddie pouted. “Was only teasing.”

The car rocked slightly as he sunk back against the seat, his fingers and feet tapping, like he was restless. Eddie Munson was someone you avoided at all costs, since he was so apt at getting on your nerves. But no matter what you did, no matter where you went, he was always on your heels, seeking you out.

The wheel spun faster, doing a circuit before Eddie had grown bored of your silent treatment.

“Hey, why do you hate me so much?”

The question was a surprise, but one that you had expected would eventually be asked.

“I don’t hate you.”

“You do,” He pointed, poking at the plane between your eyebrows. “Your nose always does that scrunchy thing when you’re angry. Also does it whenever someone gives you a compliment and you get all flustered, but yeah, when you’re angry too.”  

“Heaven knows why I’d be angry in your presence,” you retorted, ignoring his other comment.

Eddie raised his hands, “If I had a one-way ticket there, I’d be sure to ask, but…” He chuckled darkly. “I can hazard a guess.”

“As if I care what you think.” Your sarcasm was laced with venom.

“You care so much that it hurts, sweetheart. No one else gets your heart racing like I do.” He stretched out, resting his arm along the back of the chair. “Anyone else would be offended by such loathing, but I’m different.”

You scoffed at his assumptions.

“You’re not different, you’re one-dimensional.”

Eddie’s eyes widened; his pouty lips pursing before he prompted, “Oh yeah?”

You huffed, feeling yourself becoming heated. “You base your entire personality on your music taste and DnD because there’s nothing else interesting about you.”

He stamped his feet, his delight palpable.

“More, more,” he moaned impishly, “Don’t hold back now, babe.”

You crossed your arms, sharing none of the same energy, instead emitting cool callousness. “You’re condescending to everyone your meet, and then you’re all ‘woe is me’ when people can’t stand to be around you. You’re like a bad itch I can’t scratch and-”

“God,” Eddie groaned, shaking his head in disbelief, “You wanna fuck me so bad it’s embarrassing.”

He turned his body, hand brazenly sliding up your bare thigh. The cold metal of his rings cut into you with a chill, leaving your frozen.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” He teased, his index finger flicking the hem of your skirt.

You opened your mouth to yell, to admonish him, to say anything, but nothing came out.

“Fuck, gorgeous, you really do want me.” He thrilled, “I was only joking before.”

“Eddie-“ you managed to warn, trying for a serious tone, but his name slipped out more like a whine. He smiled, dipping his head against your neck, teeth grazing over your pulse as he pulled you close to the warmth of his body.

“Your heart’s beating so fast. You scared of me?”

You felt everything slip out of focus as he bit down on the flesh, the sharp tip of his canines stinging. You hissed, hands pressing against his chest, not pushing yet because your heart and head were fighting for control over your body, wanting different things. The smart thing would be to call him a creep and shove him away. But intelligence had nothing to do with the way your body was singing in response to his touch.

Eddie noticed you’d gone rigid during your intermission of indecision and backed off, wiping the gloss of saliva off his lips.

“Shit, if I’m actually freaking you out just tell me, ‘kay?”

He was tapping his foot again, nervously. He was so fidgety all the time, and it was one of the things you found most annoying about him, since he always sat in front of you in classes, distracting you with his hair twirling and pencil chewing.

Eddie tucked his hands into his lap, painting the picture of perfect innocence as he swallowed hard, facing away. The outline of his profile against the star-studded sky was so irritatingly immaculate, the curve of his lips begging to be traced into a constellation.

“Listen, (Y/n)-“

You didn’t give yourself any more time to decide. He was stupid, but he was also stupidly pretty, and as the car halted at the top of the wheel, you felt a surge of adrenaline spurred by the height. You bunched the lapels of his smooth leather jacket into your hands and tugged him towards you. Or more accurately, pulled yourself closer to him, your mouth swallowing the sweetest sound of his surprise as you kissed him.

Eddie relaxed into your embrace, moaning his approval against your lips before he brought big hands up to your face, fingers dipping below your jaw, cradling your cheeks. Before too long he was snaking his tongue into your mouth, swirling it around yours, teeth clashing in his desperation to get closer.

He relinquished one hand, dropping it low and squeezing the apex of your thigh, sending a shock of desire to your core.

“Been eyeing this necklace for a while,” he murmured against your mouth, his perfect rhythm maddening as he went back to kissing you, leaving you to consider what he meant by that. When it finally clicked, you were clenching your thighs together, him chuckling at your reaction. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? My mouth on your-“

A loud wolf-whistle from the boys in the car behind yours forced you out of the pleasant bubble you’d found yourself in. Eddie paid them no mind, nuzzling against your neck again, his hair tickling your cheek.

You make the mistake of looking down, only to find Robin and Steve giggling together, turning back to watch. You hid your face in your hands, sinking into the seat, embarrassment a roiling cloud forming above you.

When Eddie pried your hands away to get back to your lips, you let out a frustrated huff, succumbing to one more kiss before turning away as far as you could.

Eddie leant back, crossing his arms behind his head, grinning ear to ear. He was really chuffed with himself, and you found his boyish charm both endearing and exasperating.

When the car finally pulled up to let you out, you darted away, wanting to create space between you and the gorgeous idiot who was fucking with your head.

Eddie caught your hand, squeezing it with a smile. “That was nice.”

He was looking at you so fondly you felt like you were going to puke. “You got what you wanted. You can leave me alone now.”

Dropping his hand felt harsh, but necessary. You sped off into the crowd, relief filling you as you spotted Steve and Robin.

“Wait up guys!” You called, slipping in between them.

“Sorry we left you back there. We thought you might want some time alone with Munson,” Steve wiggled his eyebrows.

You groaned, shoving an elbow into his stomach. “It was a momentary lapse in judgement spurred on by the lack of air in the upper atmosphere.”

“I don’t know, you looked like you were really enjoying yourself up there,” Robin teased. You gave her a mean look and she backed off the topic with a sceptical “Okay.”

Their teasing died down soon enough, as they were distracted by the other attractions at the fair.

“Ooh. Let’s check out the maize maze,” Robin suggested.

Steve frowned at her. “Maze maze? You knocked your head or something?”

“It’s corn. Maize?”

Steve threw a hand out towards the tall stalks. “Yeah, a corn maze.”

You smiled at their meaningless squabble, feeling a bit better now that you’d calmed down after the ferris wheel ride from hell/heaven. Eddie had thankfully left you alone, though his prolonged absence was starting to worry you.

You didn’t know why you felt bad for leaving him there, standing out in front of the ride all alone. It wasn’t like you’d ditched a date or something. He was some guy from school who mocked you endlessly; you weren’t going to let him win any more than he already had.

But as you walked into the dark field, following Robin and Steve, the weight of it all slowed you down. The ghosting touch of your fingertips to your lips left an ache in your soul that overwhelmed you.

It was clear Eddie was fascinated by you: lured in by the passion of your feelings for him, despite their negative disposition. Did he really not know what it was he had done that had you teetering around the edge of his presence, ever-careful to avoid triggering the proximity alarm? He must’ve been privy to the things that annoyed you, because he was sure to do them whenever you were near.

One such thing was sneaking up and scaring the life out of you, which he achieved as he emerged out of a bunch of cornstalks, the dried leaves rustling as his shadow emerged.

“Jesus!” You yelled, curling into yourself, your heart giving out for a split second before returning to its regular beating. You shoved him hard. “Where the hell have you been?”

Eddie’s mouth wobbled, blinking down at you, not expecting that question. “Winning you a teddy bear,” he revealed the oversized plush toy from behind his back, giving it a little jiggle. “Why? You miss me?”

“No,” you replied instantaneously, but your eagerness had Eddie reeling. “I just thought it wasn’t like you to give up so soon.”

The wind blew a cool breeze, the crop around you whispering a spooky murmur. You wrapped your arms around yourself, noticing that Robin and Steve had walked on without you. It wasn’t being alone with Eddie that had fear creeping up your neck; it was the amalgamation of the darkness mixed with the figures that rose out of the field; scarecrows and the like. They’d more readily fit a Halloween-themed night.

Eddie noticed your stiff posture, tilting his head to the side, trying to get a better look at your face. “You wanna cuddle the big fluffy bear? Would that make you feel better?”

You grumbled a “yes”, wrapping your arms around the impossibly soft thing as Eddie gave it to you.

You began walking on again, hoping to catch up to your friends, wanting to ignore the way your stomach was flipping over the realisation that Eddie had spent his money at a silly game booth to get you something. Or maybe he’d just stolen it, and you were being a fool for swooning over it.

“How’d you manage to win this? I thought all the games were rigged.”

Eddie walked close alongside you, his chest brushing your shoulder as he replied.

“Needed something new to base my entire personality on. Metal and DnD are old news. From now on I’ll be known as the county fair carnival games champion.” He moved his hands, emphatically revealing his master plan. You hated that it made you giggle.

The smile he gave in response to your amusement was dazzling and proud.

“That can’t be the only reason you hate me,” he said, softer now, genuine concern weighing on his brow. “Just because I have a specialised range of interests.”

You huffed a sigh. If he wanted you to tell it how it was, you would. “Freshman year. You put a frog in my locker.”

Eddie’s mouth dropped, and he was fighting off a wild smile as he explained, “I was establishing an underground network to liberate the biology frogs! Weren’t you glad when you didn’t have to slice them up for your final grade? I got a month’s worth of detention for that crap.”

Of course he’d have a perfectly commendable reason for doing something so ridiculous. You rolled your eyes, continuing. “Okay. First day back, this year. I was wearing a Metallica shirt and you laughed at me.”

His eyes widened, a hand clasping around your shoulder, urging you to stop and face him. “I thought you were wearing it ironically! Seriously, it would’ve been a hilarious joke if you were.”

“That’s your problem, Eddie, you can’t even conceive the idea that people can like the same stuff as you and not be like you.”

Eddie’s laidback demeanour he’d maintained so far suddenly shifted in response to the grave accusation. “C’mon now, that’s not true.”

“You preach about not conforming to societal expectations or whatever, but you put yourself in a box, and close that box off to everyone else. I mean, why aren’t there any girls in your Hellfire Club?”

“Is that what this is about? You want to join but you think I’ll say no?”

“No, Eddie. This isn’t about your club, it’s about the principle of it all. You’re just as exclusive as the jocks or the nerds. You make it out to seem like you’re the king pariah when really, you’re only interested in harbouring a particular type of outcast. You’re a walking contradiction; you claim to be against the system, but you play into it just as much as anyone else!”

“Now you’re just being verbose.”

“No, I’m being honest. I know you’ve been picked on for who you are, but newsflash, so has a majority of the high school population. You make fun of everyone else because you think it’s some sort of righteous justice, but two wrongs don’t make a-“

Eddie pulled your face to his, smashing his lips against yours. The giant teddy bear fell from your grip in surprise.

You whimpered against his hot touch, “I wasn’t finished-“

“Shut up.” Eddie walked you back, your sides brushing against rough cornstalks. “You’re really mean.”

“I treat people how they treat me.”

Eddie tutted, “What was it you were about to say? How two wrongs don’t make a right? Biiiit hypocritical.”

He was too good at pushing your buttons. You shirked away, walking in the opposite direction, now totally lost as you waded through the crop that grew above your head, the path lost.

Eddie followed incessantly.

“That wildly homicidal glint in your eye is really cute, babe.”

“So you’re one of those people who think just because the other person’s getting upset you’re automatically winning the argument.”

“Is this an argument?” He asked, “I thought it was a date.”

He spun you around as you finally reached a small clearing, an old broken tractor the centrepiece. Your instinct was to push against his chest, to get away, but he turned that around on you, pinning your wrists to him, forcing you close enough to kiss.

You were no better than flotsam drawn in by the tide; allowing Eddie to slide your hand down his chest to rest atop the swell of his jeans.

“Do you get off on making people mad?” you asked, feeling his cock swell as you squeezed.

“No,” he shook his head, dimples emerging as he smiled, “I get off to you.”

He walked you back, all stumbling and eager to press against you. Your back hit something cold and solid – the tractor – and Eddie could finally grind into your hand without you pulling away, teasingly. You denied him of it, instead pressing upwards, fingers weaving through his wavy hair to tug and pull as he nipped at your bottom lip.

His hardon dug into your stomach now, along with the harsh metal of his belt.

“Take that stupid belt off,” you complained.

It hadn’t meant to be an invitation to do anything, but Eddie’s giddy, clumsy movements to rid himself of it had you thinking that maybe you wouldn’t mind if he took it as one.

“You little whore,” he teased, grinning as he slid his belt out of his jean loops, “Can’t wait to get me out of my clothes.”

You were getting tired of him thinking he was the one who held the upper hand in this situation. The need to see him trembling and begging for you overwhelmed you to your knees. The ground was cold and damp against your skin.

Already the action was achieving the desired effect, Eddie’s shit-eating grin wavering.

“I knew it. You pretend you hate me to hide the fact that you’re crazy for me.”

You groaned. He couldn’t be a little more flustered about all this? Why did he refuse to stop being insufferable?

Tugging harshly at his zipper, you didn’t bother being gentle as you shoved his boxers down, exposing him. But Eddie was quick to take himself in his hands, gaining control once again.

“You want it so bad, don’t you? But you said some pretty hurtful things, so I don’t think I’ll let you taste my dick. That’d really drive you crazy, huh.”

With one hand he gripped your chin, holding your squirming face still as he let his thick length flop against you. The smell of him left you intoxicated, and you wet your lips, the sight causing him to groan.

“Open your mouth. Stick your tongue out. Thaaaat’s it.”

His demands tore through you unexpectedly, and before you could stop yourself, you were obeying, opening wide. Eddie slapped his tip against the texture of your tongue, his thighs shuddering, and you could taste the saltiness of precum leak into your mouth.

Humming at the taste, you looked up at him through your lashes, swirling around his mushroom head to savour it all.

“Like how I taste?” He asked, eyebrows pinching when you nodded in response. “Fuck. That’s my girl. Can you take a bit more?”

He guided himself deeper into the warmth of your mouth, his head falling back as you hollowed your cheeks around him. His hips jerked of their own accord, and he swore.

“Fuck fuck fuck. Sorry babe. Can’t control myself around you,” he was struggling to remain chivalrous when you were moaning against him like that. He peered down lower, catching onto the movement of your hand beneath your skirt. “You rubbing yourself down there? Naughty girl, using me to get off.”

You frowned up at him and he laughed. It was a bit unfair to claim so when you were also busy pleasuring him. He reached up and brushed the scrunch in your nose, overwhelmingly enamoured with you and not afraid to show it.

“Oh God,” he tensed as you brought your free hand up to the base of his cock, stroking what you couldn’t fit in. He was much bigger than anyone you’d had before, and you were already gagging on him as you tried to push further. The sounds you were driving him over the edge, and he could no longer contain the mindless movement of his hips, bucking into your mouth to force you to take more.

Your jaw ached as you struggled to keep sucking him, nails digging hard into his thighs to cue him in to your discomfort. He eased up a bit with a tight moan, but kept pressure on your head, not wanting you to stop.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum soon babe. Don’t stop. Please, just a little bit more. Please.”

His begging was sweet, and the way his voice cracked on that final ‘please’ had you wetter than anything. But he had been rough with you, taking too much, so as you felt his thighs tense under your hands, his cock twitching eagerly in your mouth, you released him with a loud pop.

Eddie swore hilariously loudly. His chest rose and fell with laboured breath, the heels of his hands pressing into his eyes, a frustrated whine in the back of his throat.

You expected him to get angry, but instead he released a throaty chuckle, still light-hearted despite your denial. He dipped his fingers and curled them around the base of your neck, tugging at your hair, forcing you to look up at him, “You were being such a good little slut for me. Why’d you have to stop?”  

His gaze softened when he saw how puffy your lips had become, the dried tracks of tears down your face.

“Was I too rough? Your pretty little mouth sore from letting me fuck your throat?”

You nodded. “And you say I’m mean.”

“Awww, come here,” he pulled you to your feet, feigning an apologetic look that lured you into his grip, where he spun you around, pushing on the small of your back until you were bent over.

His hand stung with a loud slap against your ass, the feeling melting into pleasure that headed straight to your achingly damp panties. He laughed at the pathetic whimper it elicited from you, and the way you backed up into his hand, desperate for friction.

He gave it to you, rubbing rough circles into your clothed clit. “Normally I’d be sweet. Get you nice and slick with my tongue and fingers.” He slid his hand underneath your skirt and over your ass, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down with haste until they slipped to your ankles. “But you’ve been bad, babe, so you get what you deserve.”

You were embarrassed by the moan that slipped from your tongue as his slick head bumped against your entrance.

“Tell me how bad you want it,” he insisted, grabbing hold and slapping himself against your entrance before gliding his head up and down your swollen folds.

“You’re, hmmmph- ridiculous.”

“Tell me,” he growled, driving the ache deeper into you. You rutted backwards, needing his cock to fill you.

Eddie took your hands and pressed them against your back, squeezing your wrists so tight you could feel your pulse screaming within constrained veins.  

“Fine then,” he gave a dramatic sigh, pulling away.

The whine bubbled up your throat, “Please, Eddie. I need you.”

You couldn’t see him, but you heard the satisfied smile on his face as he said “That’s a good girl.”  

He pressed against you, hard, his cock pushing into your hole slowly with a sharp pinch.

“Eddie,” you whimpered, and he succumbed to your pleading tone, bringing deft fingers round to your clit, easing himself into you more gently while he warmed you up.

“That’s, uh, you’re really, ah,” Eddie failed to maintain his composure as he sunk further into you, your cunt throbbing around him, clenching and unclenching in pure need.

“You’re going to drive me crazy,” you told him, annoyed at yourself for letting him do this, yet so relieved he finally was.

“Feeling’s mutual,” he replied through gritted teeth.

His next thrust had you crying out at the painful stretch, and he reached forward, clasping his hand around your mouth

“Need me to stop?”

“Don’t stop,” you cried against his palm. You whipped a hand up against the tractor to brace yourself as Eddie pulled out and slammed back into you, his balls slapping against your ass.

You bit down on his hand, hard, finding it wholly unfair that you were being silenced while he was loudly grunting, murmuring dirty observations about the way your ass was bouncing against him. He hissed, pulling his hand back, using it to place a taut slap to your cheek as a consequence.

“You like it when I tell you how good you feel? Hm? So tight and warm. Worshiping my dick like a whore.”

Your mewling grew in ferocity and Eddie couldn’t decide where to put his hands now, eventually settling for the space where your thighs and hips met, nails digging into the curve of your hips, bringing you fast against him.

The coil in your stomach was burning white hot now, and you were mumbling incoherent pleas, hoping and praying that Eddie would let you have your orgasm.

“Cumming already, sweetheart?” his laugh was breathless, “I really that good?”

Your legs shook, and you were concerned they might give out if he kept doing what he was doing.

“Cum on my dick, babe.”

“Oh fuck, Eddie!” You could feel it building up with every brush of your sweet spot.

“Whole world’s gonna know I fucked you in this corn maze. But you don’t care, do you? You want everyone to know you’re mine. Well, now they know.”

He leaned over, teeth sinking into your shoulder as he picked up his pace, grunting vibrations against your skin. His hands slid up your shirt, indulging in the soft flesh of your breasts, your nipples rolled between his thumb and forefinger. It all coalesced; the sweat, the sounds, the closeness, and eclipsed in a burst of electric pleasure.

The world slipped in and out of focus like a pendulum, Eddie’s touch growing stifling as you rode out your orgasm.

“Shit, fuck, I’m gonna-“

You tried to move away, but he had your hips trapped in his iron grip now. “Don’t,” You warned, “Eddie, not in me!”

“Don’t worry baby, don’t worry, I got it,” he reassured, fucking you through your orgasm, stupidly reaching for your sensitive clit with his calloused fingers.

Tears pricked your eyes as you tried to wiggle away from his hand, but he was cumming now, too focused on the timing. Your name was like a prayer on his tongue as he reached his climax.

He slipped out of you with haste, jerking himself to completion as he pushed your skirt up, his semen splaying all over your ass.

You felt his sweaty forehead fall to the curve of your spine, heavy breaths warm against your back.

“Holy shit,” his lips dragged up to your shoulder blades, pressing chaste kisses, “Can’t believe you let me make love to you. Hah.”

He quickly noticed how quiet you had become and mistook it for unease.

“I didn’t cum in you,” he struggled out, wrapping his arms around you to pull you back up, “Nothing to worry about.” He poked his head past your shoulder, trying to get a good look at your face. “Hey, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you baby?”

You were cracking up, your laughter silent and shaking.

“Did you-“ you barked a laugh, “Did you really just use the term ‘make love to you’ seriously?”

His roguish smile made your heart melt. “You’re horrible,” he shook his head, sweat-damped curls bouncing, “You wanna go again?”

“Not now,” you were firm, “I felt like punching you when you touched me after I came.”

He winced. “Rookie move. Sorry, I got a little excited.”

“A little?”

Eddie squeezed you. “You can still punch me if you want.” He let go of you then, taking a step back, his boxers back on but his jeans still unzipped. He held his arms out wide, “Here, punch me in the dick, I deserve it.”

You didn’t want to hurt him, but he was egging you on, so you settled with inflicting a little karma through a slap to his balls.

Eddie doubled over, hands flying to cradle his crotch. “Shit!” He shouted, “Didn’t think you’d actually do it.”

“Want me to kiss it better?”

He shook his head. “Was surprised you didn’t bite it off the first time. I’m not about to push my luck.” He sighed as the sting faded, stretching out and reaching for you. “Still hate me?”

“I never did.”

“So… you like me now?” He asked, swooping down to gently pull your panties back up for you, like a fucking gentleman.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling all too comfortable like this. Like a couple. “Unfortunately.”

“Fuck yeah,” he celebrated with a whoop, “Wanna go do some cheesy shit? Share some cotton candy?”

“I need to find Robin and Steve first.”

“Right here.”

You sucked in a startled breath as Robin emerged from the cornfield, followed close behind by Steve. Eddie pulled you closer so that you wouldn’t run away. Your head fell against his chest in embarrassment.

“How’d you find us?” You asked, dreading the answer.

Steve placed his hands on his hips, “Well you see, there were these horrifying screams…”

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