#machine gun kelly x ofc

[hollywoodxwhore]

Mine | Chapter Seven

Colson x Original Female Character

Synopsis: Presley may look sinful on the outside, but deep down, she's innocent, guarded, and terrified of intimacy. Colson, on the other hand, is living up to his womanizer reputation as a way to cope with heartbreak. When his new guitarist invites his twin sister to join them on tour, Colson discovers that he's actually capable of feeling. Will Presley and Colson be able to push past all of the barriers trying to prevent them from happening?

Warnings/Content: smut!!! (18+), swearing, masturbation, col being afraid of his feelings, MAJOR vulnerability, fingering, coming in one's pants

The moment you've all been waiting for...the smut has arrived.

Colson

I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want Presley.

It really hits me the next morning when I wake and watch her sleep. Everything about her is everything I’ve always wanted. Her beauty, her wit, the way she trusts me and makes me feel safe, the way she just lets me be myself, it’s all I’ve ever wanted. If it wasn’t for Cash, I would’ve told her this. 

But I can’t. Her brother made that loud and crystal fucking clear.

But god, I’m falling for her, and hard. I feel more for her in a couple of months than I ever did for Megan, and I thought I was in love with her. I’m not in love with Presley. Of course I’m not. But I do have strong feelings for her that probably could be love if I pursued it. 

The fact that I can’t makes me sick to my stomach. 

I have to start distancing myself because this is going to kill me. But I can’t do it. The thought of hurting her to protect my own feelings is a pill I can’t swallow.

I sigh softly and very gently stroke her hair, not wanting to wake her up. She’s tucked under my arm, our legs tangled together, and I feel like I can’t get close enough. I picture slow, lazy mornings with her, waking up to slow kisses and passionate sex. Taking our time, ignoring the world outside. It’s such a beautiful dream that it makes my heart ache.

Presley starts to stir and I loosen my grip so she can stretch out. She breathes in deeply as she does, and then she relaxes on me, draping her arm over my stomach. “Morning,” she says quietly.

“Morning. You sleep okay?” I ask.

“Perfect,” she says. “Thanks again for last night.”

“Of course,” I say. “Thank you, too. I appreciate you listening.”

“Of course.” She smiles up at me and my heart skips a beat. I want to kiss her so badly that it physically hurts. And I think she wants to kiss me, too. But then I flash back to Cash’s words. I don’t really care what she wants. It’s not just about me wanting her. He doesn’t care if she wants me, too. Cash just doesn’t want us to be together or sleep together or whatever.

And it makes me fucking mad.

“Want some breakfast?” I ask. “I think we have muffins in the kitchen.”

“Sure,” she says. I roll out of bed and sulk into the kitchen, feeling frustrated. I take my time grabbing us some muffins and making coffee, and when I return, Presley is in a tiny black bikini, one leg up on a chair while she rubs sunscreen on her leg, and the suit barely covers her ass. I nearly drop the coffees as I stare at her. 

She looks over her shoulder at me and grins, but she’s blushing. “You good?”

“Yeah. Sorry,” I say, setting her muffin and coffee down on her nightstand. “I just…that’s a nice bathing suit is all.”

Presley grins knowingly and walks over, picking a piece off the top of her muffin and popping it into her mouth. “Thanks for making coffee,” she says.

“Of course.” I grab a bathing suit from my bag and go into the bathroom to change. I’m in a downright shitty mood about the whole situation. I know she’s starting to trust me, and I know we could be something great if we let ourselves try. I’m so lost. 

I exit the bathroom and Presley is right there. She narrows her eyes at me. “Why are you acting weird?” She asks.

“What? I’m not,” I lie.

“Colson, don’t lie to me,” she says, and she looks hurt. 

It pains me not to be honest with her, but it will hurt to tell the truth, too. “It’s nothing,” I say. “Can we just go find the others?”

She lets me walk past her but I can feel her eyes boring into me. She says nothing, grabbing her sunglasses and walking out onto the deck. Before I know it, she’s in the water, swimming down to where the others are already outside. 

“Fuck!” I cry, slamming a fist on the nightstand, which rattles my coffee mug. I’m not thinking straight. I need to clear my head.

I need to come.

Presley is long gone, down with our friends, and no one will question if I’m a little late. I do need to put sunscreen on, and maybe I want to finish my coffee. I’m sure I’m in the clear. Presley won’t be back.

I don’t bother getting on the bed or grabbing my phone. I don’t need porn. I’m so pent up already that it won’t take me long. I lean on the dresser and tug my shorts down. My dick is already hard and I take a deep breath as I curl my hand around the base and give a little tug. Pleasure zips up my spine so fast that I let out a stuttering gasp. Damn, I’m desperate.

I’m too horny to feel guilty about my thoughts going straight to Presley. She’s the reason I’m so sexually frustrated, so of course she’s on my mind. Of course that perfect ass is on my mind. Those tits. Those perfect lips that I know would look so pretty wrapped around my dick. My hips jerk at the thought, and I swipe my thumb over the sensitive tip, which makes me whimper quietly.

I can’t believe how quickly my toes curl against the floor and my stomach knots up. I’m like a teenager again. It’s embarrassing, but I’m too close to give a fuck. I picture myself buried deep inside Presley, knowing how tight and hot and wet she would be, and I scramble to snatch some tissues from the box on the dresser. I barely grab them in time before I’m crying out, coming so hard I see stars. I manage to catch it all in the tissues, and when I’m done, I slump and pant. Thank god. Now I’ll be able to think more clearly. 

I open my eyes and shuffle into the bathroom, flushing the tissues down the toilet. With my swim shorts back in place, I feel better. I just need to keep my shit together. I’ll be fine. 

After putting on some much needed sunscreen — I’m already sunburned from yesterday — I grab my hat and sunglasses and hop into the water, swimming over to the others. Music is playing already, and as I get closer, I see that they’re playing chicken. More specifically, Presley is playing chicken. On Slim’s shoulders. His hands are on her thighs and he laughs as she tries to wrestle Rook off of Baze’s shoulders. When Rook eventually knocks her over, Slim scoops her out of the water bridal style and they laugh. Envy flares in my gut.

I glance over at Cash and he doesn’t seem bothered at all. My eyes narrow and I have to fight the urge not to call him out. How come Slim can literally hold Presley but if I even breathe in her presence I get a warning? It’s bullshit. I jump a little when I realize Ashleigh has swum up beside me.

“Hey,” she says quietly. “You okay?” 

I clear my throat and nod. “Fine. Who’s got drinks?” I swim over to where I can see a cooler sitting on the deck of whoever’s house this is. I grab a beer from inside and chug half of it right away. I can’t be sober right now. 

Ashleigh gets the picture. I don’t want to talk. She doesn’t follow me. She lets me isolate from the group with my beer. All I do for a long time is observe. Presley stays close to Slim. Is she trying to make me jealous? Is she mad at me or acting weird? God, this shit is pissing me off.

“Yo Kells.” Slim’s voice breaks me from my train of thought.

“What?” I snap. Jesus. I need to chill.

“What are you doing, brother? Come swim,” he says. “Ain’t you hot?”

I am. I’m sweating my ass off sitting on this deck, but I’m scared if I get close to Presley I’ll do something I regret. I have had four beers by now. But I am dying, so I sink into the water and swim over to them. 

“You good, man?” Slim asks so only I can hear.

“Fine,” I mutter, jaw clenching a bit. 

Slim gives me a look. “Come on, man,” he says. “You lookin’ at her like you hungry and she’s a five-course meal.”

I whip my head over to look at him so fast that he jumps. “What?” I hiss.

“You really think you that sneaky?” Slim asks, raising a brow. I watch Presley talking with Olivia and Cash as she treads water, and I stifle a sigh. “You ain’t.”

“Alright, I fucking get it,” I mutter. “Does Cash know?”

“Bro, he’s so wrapped up in Liv, he’s got no idea,” he says. “You two…you know?” 

“No,” I mumble. “It started that night Cash got super fucked up in Cincinnati. She was in this lounge in the hotel and I told her to come sleep in my room. We ended up falling asleep together. It’s the weirdest thing, but we can’t really sleep without each other anymore.”

Slim winces. “Shit. So what’s the problem?”

“Cash told me not to try anything,” I say, glaring at Cash. He’s happy as a clam with his arm around Olivia’s waist. “It’s not fucking fair.”

Slim shrugs and sighs. “That’s a tough spot, man. What you gonna do?”

“I have no fucking idea,” I sigh. “It’s…deeper than just sexual.”

Slim nods slowly. “You have feelings for her,” he says knowingly. I hang my head and nod. “Have you told Cash? Maybe if he knows your intentions are good, he’ll back off a little.”

“He told me he doesn’t care what Presley wants either. He just doesn’t want me with his sister,” I explain.

“Well, fuck.” Slim shakes his head. “This is tough.”

“You’re fucking telling me,” I mumble. “Slim, I don’t know what to do.”

Slim nods. “Yeah. I wish I could give you advice,” he says. “Unless you want to confront Cash, then I think you’re stuck.”

Yeah. Completely fucking stuck. 

XX

I avoided Presley all day. 

I feel like a dick, but I didn’t really know what else to do. Being near her hurts. Talking to her hurts. Knowing I can’t have her…it all hurts. 

So I’m not really surprised when she gives me the cold shoulder later that night. We’ve all finished dinner, a late night swim, and we’re turning in for the night. I shut the door behind me and watch Presley walk down the hall after kicking out of her sandals. She hasn’t looked at me all night. Not after I ignored her earlier today.

I follow behind her, hands in my pockets, and my anxiety is a presence in the room, making me shift on my feet, squirming like I have fucking ants in my pants. I lean on the doorframe of the bedroom, watching as Presley peels off the dress that covers her bikini. She grabs a fresh towel and slips outside. I frown, confused, and I go to the door. I slide it open slowly, watching as she sets her towel down and starts to fill the jacuzzi tub.

She leans over and feels the water, standing back up once she’s satisfied, and then she spots me and freezes. “Do you need something?” she asks flatly.

I open my mouth but then close it and shake my head. She nods curtly.

“Well, I’m getting in,” she says. “So if you can go away so I can take my suit off, that’d be great.”

“Presley.”

“I need to just…get in this bath and read my book, okay?” Her tone is clipped and she avoids my eye, arms crossing over her chest in a way that makes her look so guarded. It makes my heart ache but I just nod and slink back inside. 

As I sink slowly onto the bed, I let my head fall into my hands. This isn’t just hurting me, it’s hurting Presley. I don’t know what she wants and she doesn’t know what I want. No matter what Cash says, Presley is my friend, and she doesn’t deserve coldness. I walk back over to the door, forgetting somehow that she was planning on getting into the tub naked, and I freeze in my tracks when I see her through the glass.

I’m mesmerized for no more than a few seconds when I see her. Her back is to me, and I can’t see everything, but I do spot the soft curve of her breast and the perfect shape of her ass as she sinks into the tub. I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling even worse. “God dammit,” I mutter, storming back over to the bed where I flop face down. “I’m such a fucking dick.” 

I stay that way on the bed for a long time, wallowing in my own misery until I hear the door slide open. I roll over and sit up, watching as Presley walks in. Her raven hair is piled on top of her head and she’s wrapped in a towel, her bathing suit nowhere to be found. She sees me looking at her and she freezes, slowly closing the door behind her. “What?” she asks.

I swallow hard and get to my feet, going over to her. She looks apprehensive as I get closer, and then I stop. “Presley,” I say. Her jaw works as she avoids my eyes. “I know you’re upset.”

“Oh, really?” she snaps. “How would you know? It’s not like you’ve even fucking talked to me today.” Her eyes are on mine now, and they’re fierce with emotion. It takes me aback a little.

“I-I know,” I say. “I’m really sorry.”

“What do you want, Colson?” she asks, shaking her head. She clutches her towel, making sure it doesn’t go anywhere. “One second, you’re cuddling with me and almost kissing me. Next, you’re avoiding me. Then, you have a…a fucking…you’re hard.” I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop a smile at her cute embarrassment. “And then you’re ignoring me all day. I don’t…I don’t understand you.”

It’s that statement that finally breaks me. I don’t understand you. “No, Presley,” I say, heart racing. “You do understand me. More than anyone else does.”

Her eyes lock on mine and I can tell she’s breathing hard, her pupils wide. “I’m not sure that I do,” she says tightly.

I laugh humorlessly, shaking my head. “Of course you do,” I tell her. “You’re the only person who’s gotten me to feel things since…since….her.” Presley blinks at me, eyes glossy. I can tell she’s fighting her emotions hard. “But it’s complicated.”

“How?” she snaps, throwing up her hands. She immediately clutches her towel again. “How is it complicated, Colson? How do you feel about me? Really?”

“Presley,” I say, closing my eyes and feeling pained.

“Colson, please.” Her voice is softer now, pleading, and I open my eyes to look down at her. Her eyes beg me as much as her words do and she takes a small step forward. Her throat bobs. “Why won’t you just tell me?” she asks, her voice no higher than a whisper. 

I’m silent. I can’t talk. I’m breathing hard as I watch her, my heart about to burst through my chest.

“You hold me,” she says, hugging herself, “and you convince me to get naked in front of you. You guess my biggest secret and tell me yours. You…you’re clearly turned on by me.” Her cheeks redden. “I’m so confused, Col, just, please.” On her last word, she steps into my space and places her hands on my shoulders. She’s so close to me and it would be so fucking easy to grab her waist and pull her mouth to mine. I want it more than anything. And finally, I snap. I can’t hold it back anymore. 

I do exactly what I want to do. I grab her waist, pull her against me roughly, and press my mouth to hers. 

The moan that leaves Presley’s gorgeous mouth isn’t a sound I’ve invented in a dream this time. No, this is real, and so is the way her arms slide around my neck, the way her lips part, allowing my tongue to slip inside so easily, to taste her breath. She’s so fucking sweet, just like I knew she would be. My hands tighten on her waist, pulling her impossibly closer, and she lets me. 

Within seconds, she’s in my arms, my hands gripping her thighs as she jumps up, wrapping those long legs around me. The moan that leaves me is almost animalistic and completely out of my control. I feel almost feral for her. My hands go to her ass and squeeze hard, and for a second, I’m worried it’s too much too quickly, but she just moans again, the sound shooting straight to my cock. My heart is beating wildly in my chest and my head feels so light. 

I turn her body and press her into the wall, and she arches into me. I want so badly to slip my hands beneath the towel, to feel her ass bare, to slide my fingers between her thighs to see if she’s as wet as I hope she is. But I know she’s new to this, so I hold back. I don’t want to spook her. And then, god dammit, her fucking brother’s face pops into my brain and I break the kiss to press my forehead to hers, panting. She pants, too. 

“Oh my god,” she gasps. “Colson.” Her pupils are wide when she looks at me and I have to bite back a whimper, physically holding myself back from doing more to her. 

“Does that answer your question of what I want?” I ask huskily.

She swallows hard. “Actually, no.”

I blink at her. I’m still holding her up, her back pressed against the wall. “N-no?” I stammer, confused. 

“What that tells me,” she breathes, “is that you want to fuck me. Is that how you feel about me?”

“No,” I say. “Shit, I mean, yes, but…fuck.” I set her down and back up a few steps. “I can’t have this conversation holding you like that.” I tear my hands through my hair. 

She catches her breath, chest still heaving slightly as she watches me, her face revealing just how aroused she is. God, I want her so badly it sends a shiver down my spine. 

I’m so frustrated that I actually whine. Presley looks startled and I turn around, pacing away from her. “I…I really, really fucking like you, okay?” I finally blurt, turning to look at her again. “Like, I have real feelings for you, Presley. Feelings I didn’t know I could have again.”

She swallows hard and wets her lips. “Then what’s the problem?” she asks softly.

I close my eyes. Fuck. Who do I betray here? When I look at her again, the choice is obvious. “Cash,” I say quietly.

Her dark brows draw together. “What do you mean, Cash?” she asks.

I sniff, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Cash told me to stay away from you,” I mumble. “He told me not to try anything with you.”

Presley blinks her big eyes. She’s quiet for a long moment, sliding her tongue slowly over her teeth while she considers this. Then, her eyes flare with anger. “Cash told you that?” she asks, voice scarily quiet.

I nod slowly. “Yeah.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” she hisses, pushing away from the wall and going to her suitcase. She starts tearing through it, pulling out clothes. 

“Presley,” I say.

“How dare he!” she seethes. “He can’t decide who can and cannot pursue me!”

“Pres,” I try again.

“He’s not my fucking dad! Even my dad couldn’t do that!”

“Presley!” I say loudly, snapping her out of it. She looks at me over her shoulder and gets to her feet. “He’s my friend. I wanted to respect his wishes.” But she’s right. None of this is his choice. Presley is an adult. The same age as Cash. Her romantic life is her choice, not his.

“Please,” I say, stepping closer to her. “If you want to yell at him, do it tomorrow. Don’t…don’t leave me right now.”

I’m surprised at the vulnerability in my voice and she seems to be, as well, because all of the fight leaves her. She steps up close to me and slides her hands over my chest. She looks up at me again with those emerald eyes. “Colson,” she says quietly. I hum in response, letting my hands fall gently onto her waist. “I’ve had little crushes before. Of course. But this…this is different.”

Hope rises within me but I tamp it down. This is too good to be true. I have to remind myself of that. 

“The things I feel for you…they’re strong,” she says. “I can’t even explain it, but all I want is to be around you, Col. I want to know you. I want to trust you. I want to…” Her voice fades and she bites her lip.

“What, baby?” I ask softly, the word falling from my mouth so easily. I pull her closer and I can feel how hard her heart is pounding.

“I want it to be you, Col,” she says quietly. My brow furrows in confusion and she kisses my lips softly. “I want to stop being afraid. I want you to see me.” She says it right against my lips, and it hits me what she’s saying. 

“Pres,” I breathe, closing my eyes to compose myself. “You…are you sure?”

She nods, tracing her finger around my lips slowly. I shiver at her touch. “Col,” she murmurs, and then we’re kissing again, slow and sweet. She reaches up and pushes my hair back gently. “Take off my towel.” Her voice is no more than a whisper and I look at her, studying her hard. But her eyes are sure. Determined. So I wet my lips and nod.

With trembling hands, I find where her towel is tucked into itself and I release it gently. I don’t let go of the terry fabric just yet. I study her face. She’s trembling, too, and I experience a second of doubt, but she nods, giving me permission to keep going. I swallow hard, my mouth dry as hell, and open her towel, letting it flutter to the floor beneath her.

I don’t look down yet. I barely breathe. Presley stands in front of me naked, but I can’t stop staring at her face. She looks so open, so vulnerable and scared but trusting at the same time. All of those emotions are for me. She’s giving me the honor of being the first person to see her like this. I can’t fuck it up. 

Finally, I take a deep breath and take a small step backward, letting my eyes slowly drift down. Immediately, I feel my pupils dilate and my mouth water. “Jesus fucking Christ,” I practically wheeze. 

Human perfection stands before me.

Literally. The most perfect tits I’ve ever seen in my life. Perky with tight pink nipples pierced with simple silver bars. That smooth, beautiful stomach. She’s cleanly shaved or waxed between her legs, so fucking smooth that I just want to lick her, to feel that velvety smoothness on my taste buds. God. I’m the luckiest man in the world to be the only one to ever see her naked. 

“Pres,” I say weakly. “God, baby, you’re perfect. Please. Can I touch you?”

“Please,” she says, voice trembling, and I step forward, grabbing her waist to pull her close. Her nipples press to my bare chest and I shiver at the feeling, letting my hands slide around to the small of her back. I’ve never been so hard in my life, leaking steadily into my swim shorts, but I’m in no rush. I don’t care about my own pleasure even though I’m so aroused that I’m dizzy. 

I try to wet my lips but my mouth is so painfully dry. I clear my throat. “Just tell me what I can do. I don’t want to move too fast.”

Presley considers this for a moment. “I’ll tell you if it’s too much,” she says. “Okay?”

“Perfect,” I breathe, cradling her face in my hands. I stroke my thumbs over her cheeks and she closes her eyes. I press a kiss to her forehead and she melts against me. Then, I pull her mouth back to mine. 

She kisses me hard, pressing closer with one hand on the back of my neck. Her other hand is shaky as it moves to the string of my swim trunks but she gets it undone. Both of her hands are at the waistband now, fingers dipping inside and grazing my ass. “Mm, tell me I can take these off,” she says against my lips and I nod quickly. She pecks my lips lightly and then pushes my shorts down slowly. They fall to the floor and I step out of them, and now we’re both naked. 

I’ve had sex more times than I could ever begin to count, but this is the most intimate thing I’ve ever done.

Presley’s eyes drop between us and widen, and she curses. “What?” I ask, heart racing a little. “What’s wrong?”

She looks up at me worriedly. “You could have warned me that you have a giant…” She bites her lip, and I find it so cute that she’s too shy to say certain things.

“Dick?” I ask, smirking a little. “Haven’t you listened to my songs?”

She shrugs, smiling weakly. “I guess I thought you were being cocky.”

I laugh softly and shake my head. “Nope.” 

“Shit,” she breathes, and I can’t help but chuckle at her reaction. She looks up at me and then she laughs, too, her eyes crinkling. 

“You’re so cute,” I tell her, pulling her lips to mine again. She smiles into the kiss and I swear to god I feel something akin to love for her. Nothing else matters right now but the two of us. 

I back up towards the bed and sit down, pulling her close by her hips. She looks down at me and I meet her eyes for a second before my eyes roam to her chest, right in my face. Fuck. I wet my lips and gently trace my fingers over the curves of her breasts, causing her to shiver. “Was it scary to get these pierced?” I ask.

She looks at me and nods, and the look in her eyes tells me that she feels so known by me, so understood. She knows I’m not talking about the pain of getting pierced. “Really scary,” she confesses.

I nod and look at her again, admiring the way the jewelry accentuates her perfectly. “Your tits are so pretty, god,” I sigh, shaking my head a little. Her hands are on my face, in my hair, moving slowly. I can feel her shaking but I know she’ll tell me to stop if she wants me to.

I pull her a little closer, my hands sliding up her back, and I ghost my breath over her nipple. Her little whine is all the permission I need to brush my lips over her hard nipple, followed by a gentle flick of my tongue. She tenses in my arms but I can tell it’s because it feels good, not because it’s too much. Fuck, have I ever been with a virgin before? Is she going to be this sensitive everywhere? If so, I’m in trouble. 

I glance up at her face before wrapping my lips around her nipple, cupping her other breast in my hand gently. I give it a little squeeze and she whimpers, hand tightening in my hair. I could stay here all fucking night. I let my free hand slide down her back to give her asscheek a gentle squeeze followed by a little smack, not enough to hurt, just enough to make it jiggle, and then I grip it again. 

Presley is falling apart above me, breathing hard as I circle her nipple with my tongue before switching my mouth and hand. She’s practically panting, her head tipped back when I let my teeth graze the bud lightly, just a tease. “Colson,” she whines. “Oh…” I lick between her breasts slowly, letting my other hand drift down to grip her ass. I squeeze both her cheeks firmly and she mewls. 

“Baby, come here,” I tell her, guiding her to straddle my lap. She does as she’s told, bracing herself on my shoulders. “Pres. Is this okay?”

“Yes,” she sighs, nodding. “Yes. Don’t stop. Please.” She sounds almost frantic, and she should be. 23 years of pent up tension finally released. 23 years of fear finally fading away. I’m sure it’s a lot for her. 

“I’ve got you,” I tell her, looking into her eyes. “You’re safe. Do you trust me?”

“More than anything,” she says, and I pull her in for a kiss. I hum against her lips, loving every incredible second of this. And we have all the time in the world, no shows looming or jobs waiting for us. It’s just me and her and this bed. 

“Can I touch you, baby?” I ask her, looking into her eyes. “Here?” I graze my fingers over her inner thigh, so close to where I know she’s aching and she shivers but she nods quickly, desperately. “Good. Good girl,” I murmur. “Just relax for me.” 

Her hands rest on my shoulders and I lean into her neck, breathing her in before kissing her soft skin, and she sighs. I rub her inner thigh gently with my thumb, and then, slowly, I let it drift closer and closer. I nudge the soft flesh of her clit with my thumb and she jerks a little, sighing shakily. I apply a little more pressure and she whines in the back of her throat, nails digging lightly into my shoulders. 

I watch her face, the way her eyes are squeezed shut and the way her mouth hangs open, and then slide my index finger down over her clit until it finds the wet warmth it’s seeking. I moan softly and trace my fingertips through her. “Holy fuck,” I breathe. She’s so fucking wet. I can’t help but just stroke her, obsessed with just how aroused she is from this, how aroused she is from me. “God, baby.”

“Colson,” she whimpers, shaking like a leaf as I touch her slowly. “I-is it okay?”

I let out a breathy little laugh, closing my eyes as I press my face into her neck. “Presley, you have no fucking idea how perfect you are,” I rasp. “My god, baby, you’re a fucking wonder.” 

“Mm, Col,” she whines as my fingertips slowly massage her clit. Her hips start to stir with my movements and her breath deepens. 

“Presley,” I pant against her neck. “Baby, let me make you come. Please.” She nods adamantly and I flip her over onto her back in one swift motion. She lets out a breath as her head falls onto the pillow, and then I’m hovering over her body. I don’t want to miss a single second of this, and I’m so glad I only had half a drink at dinner.

I apply more pressure between her legs now, and she lifts her hips, stomach tensing. “Oh fuck,” she gasps, writhing a little. “Th-that feels – fuck.”

“Good?” I ask and she just nods, gasping. 

“Don’t stop,” she pleads. 

“I won’t,” I assure her, and then I’m on my stomach, pulling one of her thighs over my shoulder. She lifts up onto her elbows to look down at me and I meet her eyes. “Is this okay?” I ask. “Just want to see you.” She nods again, relaxing back, but she keeps her eyes on me. I bite my lip and bring my focus back between her legs. She’s fucking glistening and perfect and my hips roll against the bed on their own. I’m getting pre-cum all over the bed but I don’t even care. My only desire at this moment is to make Presley come. Hard.

I bring my thumb back to her clit and rub it slowly, applying a firm pressure that has her hips grinding upwards. She’s shaking and breathless and so sensitive and if I’m reading her right, she’s not far from coming. I hope I’m right. 

I leave the rest of her pussy alone. As much as I want to slip my fingers inside her wet heat, I can wait. That’s for another time. All she needs is my thumb on her clit to feel good right now. I steal glances back and forth between her face, scrunched up with pleasure, and her wet pussy, which is starting to clench. I can see it.

“Pres,” I breathe. “Have you had an orgasm before?”

“Y-yes,” she whimpers.

“Are you gonna come for me?”

“Fuck, yes,” she whines, back arching. “Col, please don’t stop!” I don’t. I don’t speed up, slow down, or apply more pressure. When a girl tells you not to stop, she means to do exactly what you’re doing. I’m fucking mesmerized at just how soft and wet she is, how pretty, and how good she smells. I’ve never seen or touched something so perfect before. 

“Good girl,” I purr, eyes fixated between her legs as she starts to buck. “Good. Come on, baby. Come on.” Her gasps turn to moans which turn to whimpers, high and needy and keening, and with a sharp gasp, her entire body goes rigid. Yes. And then, I soak up every second of her orgasm, the first one she’s had that she didn’t give herself. 

I love watching the way her pussy contracts and spasms, the way her legs shift on the bed. I love the way her orgasm only drenches her more until the very tops of her inner thighs shine, too. I revel in the sounds she makes, the gasps and the whimpers and the whines. Her hands grip the sheets hard and her hips jerk and twitch upwards, pressing her clit more firmly into the pad of my thumb. 

Finally, she goes still, or as still as she can with the way her legs quake. I rub my thumb from her entrance up to her clit, collecting the remnants of her arousal, and then suck my thumb into my mouth, moaning at her taste. Just as sweet and tart as I always imagined. 

As Presley pants, I try to catch my breath, too, and I find myself glad that she’s inexperienced because the fact that I came just from grinding on the bed and touching her clit wasn’t my most shining moment. I glance down at the spot I left on the sheets and wince a little, but I can deal with that later. I move up the bed and roll her on top of me. 

When I feel her tears trickle onto my chest, I’m not surprised. I was expecting the emotional release. I shush her and hold her close, pressing kisses to her forehead. “You’re okay, I’ve got you,” I murmur. “You’re safe. You’re so fucking perfect.”

We lie there for a long time, until her tears reduce down to a few sniffles. “Sorry,” she whispers.

“Don’t you dare,” I whisper back, cupping her chin to kiss her lips softly. “I’m not going anywhere. Okay?”

“Do you…do you need me to do something?” she asks, glancing down at my cock which is no longer hard.

“No, I’m good,” I say. “Just…stay on this side of the bed.” 

Her brow furrows and she glances down, seeing where I let go on the sheets. “Oh,” she says with a breathless little chuckle. I smile and kiss her again. Now that I’ve touched her, I can’t get enough. She’s the one who made herself vulnerable but somehow, I feel split open, my entire soul bared. But it’s okay. Presley makes me feel safe. And I make her feel safe, too. 

Everything else can wait. Cash, logistics of a relationship, talking about what our feelings mean. None of it matters in this perfect moment where our naked bodies intertwine, somewhere on the ocean, far away from home.

#machine gun kelly #mgk #colson baker #machine gun kelly fanfic #mgk fanfic #colson baker fanfic #machine gun kelly smut #mgk smut #colson baker smut #machine gun kelly x ofc #mgk x ofc #colson x ofc #colson baker x ofc

[star-1111]

SORRY! I completely forgot who to add for the grunge req but it was quackity! my bad that was on me😭

No problem! <3

~

quackity x fem!grunge!reader

~

okay so first things first

he thinks you look SO attractive

no matter how baggy your clothes are, and no matter how dramatic your make up is, he thinks you are like a goddess

hear me out 😭

will casually tell you "oh yeah, I added a new song to our playlist" and when you check it'll be 'Emo Girl- Machine Gun Kelly" 😭😭😭

but all jokes aside, he loves you for you!

will definitely go clothes shopping with you and point out the baggiest clothes (that you ofc will wear) and point out how good that would look on you

MATCHING JEWELLRY!!

could watch you apply your lashes and literally look like the heart eye emoji

he loves going shopping with you and letting you express yourself

will def joke about going emo LMAO

when he has the aux cord he'll play the most grunge music known to mankind/play your favorite band <3

no matter how you dress or choose to express yourself, he loves you for you <3

#x reader #quackity x reader #big q x reader #dsmp

[livingmybestfictionallife]

Knife in a Gun Fight --The Commodore

Summary:  In 1929, the Nevin-Klaff Gang, a collection of bootlegging cousins from the farmlands of Texas find themselves on the run and in need of help.The gang finds their way to St. Paul, Minnesota where the make the acquaintance of notorious, underground, bootlegger smuggling gang, The EST. Immediately, the leaders of these two gangs, Siobhan (Shiv-on) “Shiv” Nevin, and Colson “The Gun” Baker, can’t stand one another. When their subordinates go behind their backs to agree to work together, Shiv realizes how dangerous it can be to be a knife in a gun fight.

A/N: I apologize for how this was def. not posted when I originally anticipated. I had a major plot hole I had to fix and basically rewrite this chapter!

Built in 1920, the Commodore was a quaint place for passersby to take refuge during their journeys; however, after the hotel’s bar was shut down, it was secretly relocated underground to become an exclusive, and on occasion, nefarious, speakeasy. All of the gamblers, bootleggers, and gangsters that Saint Paul attracted knew of the speakeasy, but more importantly, they all knew of The EST.

Almost as well known as the Nevin-Klaff gang, the EST was a staple of the mid-west’s criminal underground. The EST began in Cleveland as a collection of bootleggers and smugglers, each trying to escape their own predetermined fates, and arrived in Saint Paul roughly two years ago. Siobhan had heard the rumors of the EST’s near invisible smuggling and bootlegging operations, and they served to be accurate given how little media attention the received. Sure, Saint Paul was her first pick of a hideout because of it’s magnetic pull to the criminal world, but when she realized the EST was there, that was when she devised an escape plan.

Since the collective Nevin and Klaff siblings began working together, Shiv could feel Walter and Eddy’s fear--they would never admit to it in order to not feel as if they were burdening their older brothers--and the discontentment George and Art constantly repressed from the younger three regarding if they’ll make it out alive. She knew it was up to her to save all of their asses. She knew George was one snarky comment away from getting a hole blasted through him--by the cops or another gang, it didn’t matter; he was a smart-ass to everyone. Art was intelligent, but didn’t have the patience to see more than two minutes ahead of each action he took, Eddy and Walter were by no means children, especially after everything they’ve witnessed and experienced, but neither had the brains to figure out where to go or what to do next. Shiv was the planner, the decisive, witty, strategic thinker the gang needed to escape the country without striking interest in the wrong people.

Who else do undesirables go to for help other than more undesirables? she thought not long after arriving in Saint Paul. The EST was far from her first plan, but it was the safest one she could come up with.

“Just mingle,” Shiv reminded her brothers and cousins as they entered the Commodore speakeasy. The large, open room was flooded with people of various different walks of life. In one corner, a known gangster spoke freely with what appeared to be financial businessmen, near the billiards table, housewives and flappers cheered while their men competed, and throughout the crowd, men and women spoke, danced, and drank as if the law could not reach them down here, beneath the streets of Saint Paul, Minnesota. “Don’t draw attention to yourselves,” Shiv stated with a glare in George’s direction as she followed the men down a short flight of stairs.

“Where are we meeting up and when?” Walt asked as a young, redheaded woman caught his eye.

“If you meet anyone in EST, try and set up something for tomorrow” Siobhan said softly under the music. “Breakfast, river dancing, anything” she continued slightly sardonically with a scoff. Already Walt and Eddy peeled themselves away from the group and made their introductions to the young woman and her friend. George and Art also pulled away from Siobhan to begin a game of billiards at an open table. 

Shiv took a deep breath and slowly approached the bar. Her reflection bore back at her from the mirror behind the bar, and she quickly examined herself. Her long, toned arms had lost their tan from working under the hot, Texas sun, however the muscle remained, especially after having to carry the Nevin-Klaff gang on her shoulders for the past eight or nine years. Her long, dark hair was tied up elegantly--something her younger cousin learned to do as a child when his mother asked him to help her with her hair on Sundays--and a hint of makeup accentuated the twinkle in her doe eyes. A soft, cap sleeve evening gown hung from her shoulders in shimmering, golden beaded hues before transforming into a flowing swirl of pale blue tulle. The gown hugged her body gently before it fell to gather around her feet, and despite the few eyes she’d caught glancing her way, she grew anxiously uncomfortable in the attire.

For the past near decade of her life, Shiv had been carrying out secret plans of illegal activities; she never had a moment to reflect on her appearance or the appeal she had towards others. Often, her brothers and cousins would meet flings wherever the group sought shelter, but Shiv didn’t have the luxury of forgetting her surroundings and abandoning all concerns. People brought out the worst in her; it was a fact as inarguable as the sky being blue or the grass being green. Being raised on a farm, as the only child in her household, she not only endured the worst from her peers for being poor, but also was not shielded from her brothers’ and cousins’ ‘boys-will-be-boys’ antics. She grew up to be tough and level-headed, but more so, Shiv’s experiences with people outside of her family--and sometimes even within her family--led her to putting up the harshest of fronts and strongest walls imaginable.

“Can I get you something ma’am?” the bartender asked as Shiv’s eyes flicked away from the table top and to the young man before her. He couldn’t have been much older than Walter or Eddy, but he seemed much younger due to the lack of farm-built muscle that defined her family.

“Just a double whisky, neat,” she stated monotonously with a small smile in exchange for her off-putting tone. With a nod, the bartender sauntered away to pour the drink, and Shiv turned on her heel to examine the room once more. George and Arthur were playing against one another and attracting a large crowd of predominately female spectators, Walter sat at a booth with the redhead he saw upon entering the bar and laughed with her at a story she appeared to be telling, and Eddy wasn’t very far away from Walt, carrying back a round of drinks alongside a blonde girl who seemed rather taken with him.

“That’s a pretty strong drink,” a deep voice said from over Shiv’s shoulder as she turned around to take her glass from the bartender and meet the stranger’s eyes. The man beside her was folded into the bar and had pulled a nearby stool towards him with his long legs in order for him to sit as he sipped from his own glass. He wore a stone grey three piece suit with a black tie, wore his blonde hair slicked back and to the side, and seemed all too sure of himself for Siobhan’s taste.

“Not strong enough if you ask me,” she commented in a dry and rather unremarked tone as she refrained her natural instincts to continue to scope out the man beside her.

“It’s not too often that I see a nice girl such as yourself drink a man’s drink,” he said with a small chuckle. Slowly, Shiv’s eyes drifted to her right as she held her breath and clenched her jaw.

“What in the world would lead you to assume that I’m nice? And why the hell do men think they have a monopoly on everything?” Shiv questioned without an ounce of emotion rising from her tone.

“Can’t you just take a compliment?” the man huffed as he rolled his eyes and took a small swig of his drink.

“I’d love to, but unfortunately, there was nothing of substance in anything that you said for me to even assume to be a compliment,” Shiv stated as monotonously as she could. 

“What is your problem?” The blonde man with his hair slicked back and to the side grumbled as he poured the rest of his drink down his throat and narrowed his eyes in curious observation at Siobhan. As she quickly lost whatever patience she had left after dealing with George all day, Shiv exhaled sharply, tossed back her whisky, and stared the man in the face.

“You’re my problem,” Shiv stated in response to the man’s question.

“Me?” he quickly questioned in return only to get an annoyed glare from the woman across from him.

“Yes, you. It was more than obvious that I wanted to be alone; did you not come over here because you figured I was the only woman in this place completely isolated?”

“Maybe I wanted to talk to you,” the man attempted to explain away her accusations.

“Maybe you did,” she sighed and rolled her eyes, “after your silver tongue and semi-suave persona failed in picking up either of the women chatting at the table behind us.” Hesitant to admit his shortcomings with the brash woman before him, the man narrowed his eyes at her and pursed his lips, as if prompting her to continue. “There’s a mirror on the bar, I couldn’t have ignored that train wreck even if I wanted to.”

“Did anyone teach you how to smile?”

“Did anyone teach you how to pick up on basic social cues?”

“Damn, why are you so mean?” the blonde man gasped in aggravation.

“It’s what the world does to you, pretty boy. Maybe you’ll learn that one day,” she said before standing up and leaving a tip on the bar for the bartender.

She didn’t want to come out tonight. Befriending EST was not apart of her original plan; it was just some bullshit addition George wanted in order to feel like he was contributing something to protecting his brother and younger cousins. A simple ask-around-town and introduce-yourself before asking for a favor would have worked. Personal, human interactions were obsolete. It didn’t matter one way or another if they were best friends or simply business partners, but George threw a fit and threatened to take off on his own, which subsequently terrified Walter of losing his brother and then sent Arthur and Edmund into a panic about separating from their cousins. 

“I should have let him leave,” Siobhan muttered to herself as she paced towards an empty booth in the darkest corner of the speakeasy. There was a distinct difference between each Nevin-Klaff member’s reason for being in this criminal boat, and Shiv was near certain of each person’s motives. 

Walter didn’t want to be left out. Being the youngest instilled a fear in Walt about being the only one not able to do something out of the Nevin-Klaff cousins. Edmund knew the work he would have to pick up around the farm with George, Arthur, and Siobhan gone would be too much for him to handle, and he wasn’t about to handle the brute of harvest on his own. Arthur only continued to help George in order to keep him on the right track. George wasn’t the brightest, and he certainly didn’t know what he was doing in the beginning. Shiv always figured he assumed he could stash jugs of whisky or moonshine in the bed of a truck, drive two counties over, and collect some cash. Without Art to be a sound moral compass with more than half a brain, George would have been locked up not too long after he started. Shiv never really clicked with George. Throughout their childhood, she never understood why the family favored him so much, but she did know they were unaware of the many secrets he harbored from them. Initially, he stole from his parents--it wasn’t much, but taking anything from a dirt poor farmer was more than enough to ruin him--and then got into bootlegging as a way to get enough money to payback his parents without them knowing. 

There wasn’t a doubt in Shiv’s mind that, if the gang were to go their separate ways, George wouldn’t stick to the harmless crimes they commit now. He’d go on to rob trains or banks, make a mistake and kill someone or end up being killed. That’s the only reason she didn’t devise a way to travel in smaller groups or spread out across the country, because whoever was stuck with George would be screwed.

“He has dumb-ass plans anyway,” Shiv sighed to herself as she reexamined George’s idea of becoming friends with EST. Allies, sure, Shiv could understand that, but friends? This wasn’t a school playground. This is 1929 Saint Paul, Minnesota and they were wanted in who knows how many states. There’s not any time fro friends, and their idea of going to a speakeasy and flushing out the people they’re essentially stalking in order to get close to wasn’t going to come to fruition tonight. “Screw this,” Shiv huffed as she slammed her hands down on the table in front of her and sprung to her feet. “I didn’t want to come. I told him this was stupid. No one ever listens to me, even when my only job requires them to listen!” Over and over, more and more complaints flooded Shiv’s head as she made her way to the exit. She grumbled each one under her breath and did her best to ignore all of the concerned glances being exchanged her way; all except for one. The baby blue-green eyes of the man who had pissed her off by reminding her all too much of George noticed her leave, and wore the smallest expression of guilt on his face. 

Shiv noticed him, and it made her even angrier.

#mgk #mgk fanfic #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly fanfiction #machine gun kelly fanfic #machine gun kelly au #colson baker #colson baker fanfiction #colson baker fanfic #mgk bootlegger au #1920s gangsters #mgk 1920s au #mgk x ofc #mgk au #gangster au #machine gun kelly x ofc #knife in a gun fight #the gunner #the gun #young gunner #blonde don #colson baker au

[hornsbeforehalos]

Waste Love: Part Seventeen

Pairing: Colson Baker|Machine Gun Kelly x OFC Warnings: Language, Alcohol and Drug Use, Smut, Violence, Angst, Fluff A/N: Sorry this took forever! Thank you for everyone who still reads this little adventure of mine. Smut warning for this chaptre as a gift for your patience :) this is barely edited, so please forgive any mishaps you see. 

Tiffany groaned, her head pounding in rhythm with her heart beat as her eyes fluttered open. She clutched her skull between her palms as she winced, rolling over to her side to see Colson’s peaceful face beside her, the man still dead to the world. She looked around the room, noting that she was not in her parent’s house like she’d expected, but instead what was obviously a hotel room. Liquor and beer bottles littered the space, the smell of spilled liquids making her stomach turn as she forced herself to sit up. 

“The fuck happened?” She murmured to herself, running a hand through her tangled mess of hair with another wince before standing and making her way to the bathroom. 

After using the restroom and swallowing a packet of Advil found on the counter, Tiffany returned to the room to sit on the edge of the bed. She was trying to piece together the previous evening when she heard Colson groan behind her, her head turning to see him rubbing both of his hands over his face as he tried to wake himself up. 

“Come lay down, Tiff,” He croaked, his voice tired and hoarse from sleep as he rolled over to his side and nuzzled back down into the pillow, his eyes closing again. 

“Where the fuck are we?” Tiffany rasped, her brows furrowing was she took in the state of the room they occupied. Besides the bottles everywhere, there were numerous champagne glasses adorning the coffee table beside the small couch, as well as what appeared to be rose petals scattered throughout the spaces. 

A deep sigh came from behind her, Colson’s lids opening again as she turned her head to look at him. He chuckled slightly before shaking his head, looking up to the ceiling as he scrubbed his face again with a grunt of frustration. “You don’t remember shit, do you?” 

Tiffany whimpered at the expression displayed across his face, the smug grin concerning her greatly. 

Colson raised himself up and wrapped a lanky arm around her torso, pulling her backwards and forcing her to lay down beside him. He propped himself up on his elbow as he hovered over her, beaming smile breaking across his lips as he looked down at her. 

“Colson…” she warned, her brow furrowing as her jaw ticked, “where are we?”

“Okay, so, it was your idea,” He started, dimples pressing hard against his cheeks as he tried to contain an onslaught of laughter. A giggle bubbles out of him at her obvious annoyance, the man sucking in a composing breathe before finishing with, “We’re in Vegas.”

“Vegas.” Tiffany repeated, surprisingly calm as her eyes roamed from Colson’s blue gaze to the ceiling, the word resounding in her head as she mulled over what that meant. 

“Vegas.” Colson confirmed, watching her expression intently as he waited for the pieces to click together. 

Still not understanding, Tiffany’s gaze returned to him as she waited for further explanation. 

Rolling his eyes, Colson pulled his left hand out from under the blanket, the simple platinum band adorning his finger glinting in the sunlight shooting through a spot in the curtain. Tiffany’s eyes instantly widened in horror, her fingers snapping out to grab his hand and bring it closer to her face for further inspection. 

“No!” She gasped, her wide eyes shifting quickly between Colson’s hand and his face. A chuckle breathed passed his lips as he watched her face go through a range of expressions in an incredibly short period of time before her eyes finally settled on the pretty ring adorning her own finger, “No!”

“Yup.” Colson simply replied, popping the p for dramatics as a bright smile took over his face again, his teeth showing in that famous signature smile of his. 

Leaping from the bed, Tiffany let out a huff of disbelief before gripping the roots of her hair between her fingers with a growl.

“You… you… you fuckin’ tricked me! What did you do?” She screeched, crawling back over the bed to him and hammering her fist into his chest as he laughed at her, “This isnt fucking funny, Colson!”

A sudden pounding at the door distracted Tiffany from her assault, the sound of her brothers laughter filtering through the barrier. Tiffany pointed a sharp fingernail in his direction before snarling, “I’m going to fucking stab you.”

Tiffany lurched the door open to meet her brother’s smiling face, the sight instantly pissing her off more as she pulled him into the room by the front of his shirt. Slamming the door forcefully, she rounded on him and spat, “This isn’t fucking funny.”

“I find it hilarious you don’t find it funny when it was your idea.” Rook replied smugly, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he looked to Colson still laying in the bed, “what was it that she said?”

“’Oh, Kels, please, please, let’s just go do it tonight!’” Colson replied in a mocking, high pitched voice, instantly covering his face with the blanket to dodge a pillow being thrown by her. 

“Wha- What was it? Oh yeah, ‘I wanna be Misses Machine Gun Kelly!’” Rook added, snickering while dodging his own assault from his sister. 

“Fuck you both! Assholes!” She spat, stomping her feet, “I can’t believe this shit!”

“Check your instagram, dude. You snapchatted the entire thing.” JP chortled, tossing her phone towards her. She instantly snatched it up and went through her notifications, a guttural growl leaving her chest before she chunked the phone into the wall. 

“Leave, Johnny.” She hissed lowly, her eyes shooting venomous daggers into her brothers skin. JP saw the seriousness in his sisters face and nodded his head submissively before making his way to the door. 

Tiffany double checked the lock after it was shut before crumpling against the wood and sinking to the floor. A sob ripped its way out of her throat unexpectedly, and she couldn’t stop herself from picking up the nearest empty bottle beside her and hurling it at the wall in the same place her phone landed. The glass exploded easily against the dry wall as another gasp croaked out of Tiffany’s choking body. 

Colson was in front of her suddenly, “Babygirl.”

“This...isn’t…how…” Tiffany bawled, her breath hiccuping as she fought against the words, “I didn’t… not like this.”

“Baby, its okay. Calm down.” Colson tried, guilt filling him as he held his wife’s face between his hands. He knew she’d be pissed but didn’t expect this. “We can get an annulment if you want. We can...”

“Wha-What?” Tiffany stuttered, confusion embracing her features. “That’s not…”

Tiffany pushed Colson's hands away, shaking her head in contest as she tried to catch her breath, “That’s not why…”

“What then, Tiff?” Colson tried, wincing as tears began to choke him, “I’m sorry...I…”

“I don’t remember any of it.” Tiffany finally got out, her lip poking out in a pout as fresh tears streamed down her cheeks, “I married you and I don’t even remember my own wedding…”

“Oh, babe…” Colson signed, relief rampaging through him as he realized what she meant. He couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbles out as he wrapped his arms around her and said, ”We can do it again if you want. A real one, without your brother being the flower girl.”

“Casie is supposed to be the flower girl!” Tiffany sobbed again, gripping Colson’s arms and burying her face into his chest. He held her while she cried, his fingertips trailing over her arms as he shushed her. 

“Baby, come on. It’s okay. I’m sorry, alright?”

“I don’t even remember my own wedding night!” She huffed, pulling away from him to wipe her eyes, “What the fuck?”

“Would you like a replay?” Colson grinned, cupping her jaw with his hands before pulling her into a kiss. Tiffany couldn’t help but grin into his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck as he parted her mouth with his tongue. 

Colson pulled her from the floor and led her back to bed, pulling her clothes off of her as he went. His own boxers were quickly she’d as he covered her body with his lean frame, the muscles in his arms rolling as he held himself above her.

“You’re my wife, you know that?” Colson rasped, his husky voice sending shivers down her spine as she rolled her hips up into him, his heavy cock slipping through the wetness that had gathered at his words. 

“Mmm, I like that.” She cooed, smiling up at him as her hands ran down his back, “Misses Baker.” 

“Mmm,” he grinned, lips finding her neck and leaving bite marks in their wake as he trailed them down her collar bone, “Misses Baker.” 

Colson continued a path with his mouth, lavishing her breasts and stomach with wet, hot kisses and licks before settling between her thighs. 

“Pretty little pussy,” he whispered as he peeled her lips back with his index finger and thumb while his other hand massaged her thigh, “God damn.”

Stars erupted quickly behind her eyelids at the feeling of his tongue pressing against her clit, a loud, wanton moan projecting out of her. Her chest heaved as she came instantly, new wetness flooding Colson’s mouth and running down his scruffy chin. 

“Mmm,” he moaned at the taste of her, continuing his work as he held her hips firmly to the mattress while she writhed against his face. 

“Cols,” Tiffany whimpered, her body vibrating as she let another orgasm take over her. Her legs clamped down over Colsons shoulders as her fingers tangled in his hair, her nails scratching into his scalp and earning her a groan from the man devouring her. “Please.”

“What do you need, wife?” Colson asked when he finally pulled away from her, an innocently wicked glint shining in the blue orbs looking up at her, “You need Daddy’s cock?” 

Another whimper was the only response Tiffany could manage as she reeled him up her body by his hair, attaching her mouth to his and instantly moaning at the taste of herself on his lips. Colson pulled away again before hoisting her legs up around his waist, his cock gripped firmly in one hand while the other spread her glistening lips apart once more. He rubbed the leaking head of his dick against her clit, his teeth biting into his bottom lip as he teased not only her, but himself as well. His eyes roamed her lithe frame and he almost choked, not believing that the woman beneath him was finally his wife. 

“Stop teasing,” Tiffany whined, her own plump bottom lip caught between her teeth as she pinched her nipples and undulated again, “I wanna fuck my husband.”

Growling at her words, Colson pushed against her entrance, her pliable body accepting him easily, as if he belonged there. Which he did. 

“Fuck, Tiff,” Colson grunted, his voice shaky. His skin instantly tingled with the feeling of natural ecstasy rolling through him and his fingertips bit into the flesh of her thigh as he steeled himself, “Pussy too damn good.”

“Daddy, please.” She mewled desperately, rolling her hips with a moan, “I need you.”

“Fuck, babe. I’m tryna not cum here.” Colson huffed, shaking his head as he smirked at her, his cock pulsing against her tight walls, “Gimme a minute.”

Tiffany whimpered again in frustration before snaking her hand between their bodies, her fingers finding her clit and working it expertly, “Colson.”

The feeling of him stretching her open was all Tiffany really needed the moment her finger tip touched the swollen bundle of nerves. She constricted around him while she came, ripping a deep, low growl from Colson as he watched her fall apart around him. 

“Shit,” Colson breathed, not able to hold himself back any more as he leaned forward, folding her in half essentially, before pounding his hips into hers roughly. 

“Fuck, yes!” Tiffany cried, her vision blurred as he split her open, “so good!”

“Yeah? Daddy feel good?” He grunted while snapping his hips again, his cock dragging through her the way she loved, “You love it?”

“Ye-ye-yesss…” She keened in reply, her back arching and nipples rubbing against his chest, “please- don’t- stop!” 

“You gon’ cum again for me, wife? Gonna cum for your husband?” He breathed, cerulean irises boring into her face, “Come on, baby, I feel you.”

As if on command, the coil burst again and Tiffany clamped down around him, her fingernails digging into his shoulders and drawing blood. Colson growler at the pain and lifted himself off of her, earning a frustrated noise from his wife before he flipped her to her stomach.

“You're gonna need this” Colson said as he shoved a pillow into her face, “hang on tight, babe.”

Tiffany was thankful for the pillow as she used it to muffle her screams that soon followed, Colson’s cock hitting a deepness inside of her that made the world seem to stand still. She could tell he was close when his strokes became longer, impossibly deeper, and his grunts became louder. She moved the pillow away from her face and gasped for breath, turning her head to watch him from over her shoulder.

“Come for me, baby.” She moaned, eyes rolling back into her head, “please Daddy.”

“Yeah? Where you want my nut?” He huffed,grinding his hips into hers, “Wanna feel me? Or can Daddy come on your face?” 

“Mhmmm,” Tiffany answered, adjusting her knees so she could buck back into him, “Gimme.” 

“Fuck yeah,” Colson gasped, leaning forward to grip her purple tangles, “Come here, lil’ whore.” 

He pulled out of her and fisted himself with his free hand, tugging her off the bed and standing while she kneeled before him. He stared down at her with his mouth slightly agape as he stroked himself, struggling to keep his eyes open at the sight of her licking her lips and parting them, waiting for her prize.

“Holy fuck,” he finally spat, his body tensing as a long stream of cum painted her face, more splattering all over her lips and neck and chest as he erupted. He gasped and yelped when she wrapped her lips around the head, sucking the remains out of him as she looked up at him with wide, watery eyes. 

The slight of her with his cock in her mouth and cum covering her face had another orgasm rolling through him before he even knew what was happening. He collapsed onto his knees in front of her, his chest heaving as the aftershocks rolled through him.

“Holy fuck,” Colson repeated, his voice still shaky, “That was…holy fuck.”

“Mmhmm.” She replied, wiping her face off with a discarded shirt laying nearby.

“God damn I’m glad I married you.” Colson huffed, wrapping a hand around the back of her neck and pulling her in for a kiss.

“Hope you’re not too tired, husband.” Tiffany purred once they separated, a devious sparkle in her hazel eyes as she licked her lips, “it is our honeymoon, you know.”

Masterlist

Tags:  @cobainscocaiine​ @coffee-obsessed-writer​ @through-thesilver-lining​ @daryldixonandfrogs​ @buckyscrystalqueen​ @mgkobsessed​ @iamdorka​ @creatureofthen1ght-v3​ @xxencagedxx​ @xxkellsvixen19xx​  @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk​ @bvibunny138​ @crystalbaby12​ @abbysdogcollar​ @sparxx27​

*credit for the bomb ass banner is to best friend @coffee-obsessed-writer

#machine gun kelly #mgk imagine #mgk fanfiction #mgk smut #mgk x ofc #mgk x reader #mgk x you #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x #machine gun kelly fanfiction #machine gun kelly fanfic #machine gun kelly x ofc #colson baker imagine #colson baker #colson baker fanfiction #colson baker smut #colson baker x ofc #colson baker x reader

[aquagustd]

fast forward - JJK

↣ If every single person you knew was against you, it wouldn’t matter, doesn’t matter because Jungkook would be there for you. That’s why you don’t question his words when he repeats ‘I’ll be back’ one disconcerting morning, and you respond with ‘I know. I trust you.’ He’ll make you eat your words.

✩ a flashback drabble for hell is empty ✩

༄moodboard

pairing — biker!jungkook x reader

genre/rating — R | fluff, smut, angst

word count — 12K

listen to — reflections by the neighbourhood, bad things by camila cabello & machine gun kelly

warnings/tags — established relationship, strong language, mentions of violence & blood, drug use/dealing, strict parents, reader & jk are around 19-20, shotgunning, mentions of abortion, minor character death, mentions of guns, minor bike accident + injury, familial conflict, soft but stern jk, just two goofs madly in love with each other (◕﹏◕♡), mentions of babies, explicit smut — thigh kink ofc, spit kink, hand kink, finger sucking, dirty talk, fingering, pussy slapping, overstimulation, biting/scratching, a nice mix of degradation + praise, name-calling (slut, whore), hickeys, soft + rough sex, doggy style, dumbification, standing sex, oral (f & m), hair pulling, deep throating, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (rip), creampie, breath play, impact play, some ass play, nipple play, pillow talk

a/n — can be read as a standalone. but is necessary for the plot of HIE !! now that Jungkook is introduced into the story, I thought it’d be good for a lil flashback so the readers can get a better look at their relationship in the past & what his return really means for y/n & Junho. the narrator in the beginning of this drabble will be revealed later on in the story. also the song reflections pls it’s them 😭 listen to it before you read this 🥺

∞

Just as the gravel crumbles under the tires of his motorcycle, everyone cowers as he passes them by, leaving a kiss on his companion’s forehead before disappearing behind the infamous, nondescript building to get on with secret business. Although it wasn’t that much of a secret.

Everyone knew what Jeon Jungkook got up to by his walk alone. Similar to the domineering stride his father carried with him each time you would be lucky enough to see him. The few occasions that he left his mansion was enough to set an uncomfortable lump in everyone’s throat. But even high up in the comfort of his home, his business was thriving. Little men running around for him with a wave of his hand. Bees, he called them.

Everyone also knew that Jungkook would follow in his footsteps, and it all began once he finished high school. A small initiation was held and even if Jungkook had the wits to take over right after his last day of his metaphorical teenage years, his father said that he wasn’t ready yet. Only because he was still alive and in good health. It was only a matter of time before his own supply would kill him. BUT, he’s still alive. And Jungkook is still a bee, buzzing around like the rest of them for his father.

Still, everyone knew that Jungkook was the younger version of his father, even if he hated hearing it.

How Jungkook and ___ met, no one knew. Perhaps they were childhood friends? Met in high school? No one knew. Given that she came from a religious home, far away from Jungkook’s neighborhood and the dangers lurking in those streets, it was difficult to piece their beginning together. Her background should be disregarded entirely, she and Jungkook shared the same temperament and were equally merciless. Even if she wasn’t a bee herself. But Jungkook kept her around, or she kept him around? What mattered was that they were deeply in love with each other, anyone could see that. Inseparable. Soulmates.

It was quiet for the past week, but everyone knew it was only a matter of time before they returned from their little vacation and stirred things up just like they always do.

Wide-eyed, some sniggering, others scared for their life, look on as she yanks the back of an unsuspecting waitress’ head, firm grip around her ponytail before she’s thrown to the floor.

Back to business, I guess.

“If you don’t fucking speak up—” You lift your boot, pausing just above her ribcage as she holds up her hands, muttering pleas under her breath.

“J-Jake…He—” She coughs, scooting away on her palms to hit the wall, shaking her head furiously. You stalk her further into the alleyway, rolling up the sleeves of your leather jacket as far as they can go.

“What about Jake?”

The echo of your voice is enough to have her trembling, wiping the corner of her bloody mouth before shielding her face. You crouch down in front of her, yanking down her hands to find terror in her hazel eyes. Jungkook said to rough her up a bit, you think your job is done. She doesn’t deserve to suffer the consequences of her brother’s constant fuck ups.

With a sigh, you help her up to her feet, fixing the nametag on her dress quickly before stepping away.

“Jungkook won’t be too happy to hear that I let you go so easily,” you begin, rubbing your knuckles on your jeans, “so you better go home and tell your good-for-nothing brother that he rather come out of hiding before we pay your parents a little visit.”

She gasps, a little overdramatically.

Lurching forward, you grip her arm and drag her around to the front of the building, rolling your eyes when she begins to sob.

“Oh please. I didn’t even hit you that hard, here.” She grabs the tissue you offer, blowing out her nose. “Aren’t you tired of all this? Your brother doesn’t deserve you.”

Her lips quirk to the side, grimacing when she licks at the wound on the corner of her mouth. She lifts her gaze to meet yours, voice a pained whisper.

“He’s my little brother.”

You fold your arms, “I know for a fact that we aren’t the only ones looking for him.”

She shakes her head, tears glistening under the fading light of a passing car, “yes. There’s much worse.”

You chuckle, slowly backing away from her, “don’t let Jungkook hear you say that.”

At the mention of his name, you feel an arm around your shoulder, instantly relaxing in his hold when his scent surrounds you. He glances at the waitress who stumbles into the café, a question on his lips.

“Nothing,” you sigh, taking the can of Coke from him as you return to his bike parked on the far end of the lot, “but I think we’re making headway. He might be hiding at his parents’ place.”

Jungkook nods, setting down his drink on the ground before helping you with your helmet, knocking his against yours once you’re togged up and ready.

“I like it when you’re out with me,” he smiles, flashing his heart-stopping bunny grin.

You shove his shoulder as he gets on the bike, throwing your leg over the seat behind him before squeezing his pecs, “I’m always out with you.”

He starts up the engine, grinning at you in the mirror, “you know what I mean. When I’m out on business.”

Resting your cheek on his shoulder, you slide your hands inside his jacket, his heartbeat thrums under your palms, accelerating just as you take off onto the road. Joy overwhelms your senses once you fall into the odd tranquillity from speeding down the roads. Hair whipping around in the wind, you grip onto him tighter, knees hitting his sides as he takes the turn onto the highway.

You breathe in the night air, cutting into your lungs while he speeds up, and you know it’s because you told him recently that you feel the most free when you’re with him on his bike.

A smile breaks onto your face. During the first few months of dating Jungkook, you weren’t too sure if you were in love with him, or in love with the way he makes you feel. It was something you struggled with for a long time, and you knew that there was a significant difference between the two. And it was only recently, when you made peace with the fact that it was both.

Heart spilling with a million and one emotions, you place a gentle kiss on the back of his neck, breathing in his natural smell as much as the wind would allow. He turns around, lips lifted in a smirk before you smack the back of his helmet.

“Eyes on the road! Are you trying to kill us?!”

His words are muffled but you still hear them loud and clear, and not because you’ve heard them multiple times before.

“I wouldn’t mind if I die with you like this!”

Your giggle is cut short when he winds down the road even faster, tears prickling your eyes before you decide to surrender to the speed and close them fully, gasping once he comes to a stop outside a familiar house.

Unclicking your helmet, you jump off and bang your fists against his chest, whining when he grips them tight and holds them close to his body, reeling you in slowly.

“I thought you liked it,” he whispers, positioning you between his legs while he leans against his bike, “I make you feel free, isn’t that right?”

You tip your chin up to press your lips to his, but he jerks away, laughing when you whine again.

Managing to break out of his hold, you tug on the hair at the back of his neck, bringing his face down to your level.

“And I hate it when you tease,” you mutter, grazing his lips with your own while he hisses, hands flying to your hips. You brush his hair out of his eyes with your free hand, mirroring his grin once you catch sight of his blown pupils.

He pulls you flush against his body, tilting his head just like he does before he’s about to steal your breath away when you hear footsteps behind you.

“Hey lovebirds! Good to see you back in action.”

You snap away from Jungkook, back pressed into his chest while he winds an arm around yours, holding you close.

“Hyung, nice to see you here,” Jungkook shouts, grabbing Yoongi’s extended arm, “thought you’d be too busy with miss goody two shoes.”

Looking between the two of them, you cock an eyebrow, “that’s her new nickname?”

When you and Jungkook begin to snigger, Yoongi groans, “I didn’t even miss you two.”

You share a look with Jungkook, poking at Yoongi’s side before he scurries away into the house with you following close behind.

“Stop lying! You missed us! That’s why you kept calling every hour.”

Yoongi pretends not to hear, making his way to the noisy kitchen while Jungkook greets each person you pass on your way further inside the house, voice drowned out by the booming music.

“Correction,” Jungkook grins, filling a cup with whatever drink he finds on the counter, “every fifteen minutes.”

Yoongi rubs the back of his neck, side eyeing your boyfriend who nudges his shoulder with a mirthful simper.

“That’s because your father wanted updates,” he mumbles, taking a swig from his nearly empty cup, “and since you were gone, I had to finish up what you left behind.”

While they continue to bicker, you scan the lounge to find an empty spot on the couch, Haneul seated nearby. You take a sip from Jungkook’s cup and saunter towards her, planting yourself in the middle of her conversation with Iseul.

“You’re back!” She throws her arms around your shoulders with all her half-heartedness, you pat her back just the same. “We missed you so much!”

You receive unenthusiastic greetings from the girls around her. Dismissing the rest of them, you turn to her and pretend to be interested in what’s going on in her life before she finally gets to the juicy parts, only to be interrupted by Iseul calling your name.

“Hmm?”

She passes the blunt to Juwon, drawn-on eyebrow raised to her hairline.

“So, is it true?”

You lean back on the couch, resting your hand on your stomach tiredly, “is what true?”

She glances at each of her friends briefly, as if searching for confirmation before she cups a hand around her mouth, strobe lights dancing over her features.

“You and Jungkook left town so you could get an abortion.”

It would’ve been better if you had a drink in your hand, so you could’ve spat it all over her judgemental face. But instead, you must sit up in the seat, lips parted in disbelief.

“What?”

She holds up her palms with indifference, “that’s what we heard.”

They stare at you like a wake of vultures, waiting for your answer and you want to deny but you know no matter what you say, they’ll believe what they want to believe. A sickening weight stirs in your stomach.

You spring up from the couch, mumbling a small ‘that’s not true’ over your shoulder before making your way through the gyrating bodies, hand on your belly as you grip the railing outside and suck in a deep breath.

Since you’ve started dating Jungkook, there were all kinds of rumors circulating. None of which affected you, but why does this one make you sick to your stomach? Is it because you took time off for a harmless vacation and that’s what people thought? Is it because they thought you were having Jungkook’s baby, and you didn’t want it? Or is it because of your beliefs? What you were force fed since you were a little girl by your parents?

All you know is that you had never, ever, in your three years with Jungkook and the years before that, thought about Jungkook and a baby in the same breath. It doesn’t seem…like you or him.

Leaning over the railing, your hands slide up and down over your arms, bile rising in your throat. Where do people get the time to make up shit like this?

Just as you’re about to go back inside, Jungkook emerges from behind the sliding door, forehead creased.

“What are y—What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, managing a small smile as if that’ll throw him off your case.

“Nothing,” you dismiss, reaching for the joint in his hand but he pulls it out of your reach, dipping his head to peer into your eyes.

“Something’s up.”

Reflexively, your gaze shifts behind him to the window where the girls sit, watching you and Jungkook like hawks. He follows your gaze, straightening his posture before cursing under his breath.

“Those bitches. What did I tell you about talking to them?” He scolds, attempting to raise his voice but still his regular pitch when he grabs your shoulders. “I told you before. They’re jealous of you!”

You scoff, poking your tongue in your cheek, “I don’t see why they should be jealous of me.”

He clicks his tongue, big eyes even bigger, “are you kidding? You have everything they don’t.”

“And what’s that?”

His tongue flicks over lips, tucking your hair behind your ear daintily, “firstly, every single one of them live miserable lives. Their parents force them into college when they’re all dumb as fuck and they’re all single and—”

You shut him up by pressing your index finger against his lips, speaking around a laugh, “okay baby. I get it.”

His innocent eyes turn mischievous, pulling a gasp from your lips when he tugs you close, “you know what else?”

Eyes glued to his lips, you jerk your chin in question, slipping a hand around his neck, “what?”

He takes a long drag from the joint, thumb tugging down your bottom lip before slotting his mouth over yours. You breathe him in greedily, sighing when he seals it with a lingering kiss before pulling away. A dizzying spell cast over you from his gaze alone.

“You have me.”

Before you can respond, he starts to attack your neck, teeth and tongue working on your flushed skin while you squirm under him, knowing that you’d go home with bruises marring your skin. Giggling, you manage to pull away and fit your face in his neck, tugging down the collar of his shirt to suckle your own blooms into his flesh. He groans, long and breathy, hand fitted over your ass.

“I love you,” he grits, pressing a kiss into the crown of your head, fingers skimming down your necklace. “Let’s go home.”

Despite the heat brewing in your abdomen, a light feeling in your legs, you press your forehead to his, mumbling a soft ‘no.’ He watches you with half lidded eyes, lips puckered.

“I have to go home tonight,” you breathe, plucking at his collar, “they’re already mad at me for leaving.”

His breath mingles with yours, chest heaving, “it’s late already.”

“I know,” you sigh, pulling back slightly, “but they’ll be waiting for me in the morning.”

He exhales deeply, nodding to himself, “okay. Let’s get you home then.”

As you’re walking down the stairs, Yoongi stumbles out of the house, tossing Jungkook his keys. Even in his inebriated state, he still looks out for you two.

“Take my car,” he slurs, pointing at his black single cab as if you didn’t know it was his, “it’s too dangerous to go out with your bike.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to protest but you steer him away from the house, telling him that it’s better not to argue with a drunk Yoongi. He counters that it’s better not to argue with Yoongi at any time. You laugh, but at the back of your head you know that your little escape from reality has reached its end. Especially when you have to tiptoe up to your room.

Afraid that you might disturb your parents’ sleep and walk straight into your impending doom.

By pure chance, your sleep breaks at around 3:30AM, rubbing at your fuzzy eyes before you squint at your screen. Seeing fifteen missed calls from Yoongi. It better be important, he has the tendency to call you up at the slightest inconvenience concerning Jungkook but it’s not like him to miss your call. You try again and it goes straight to voicemail. Not long after, your phone lights up with his name and you answer it right away, jumping up from your bed when you hear the panic lacing his voice.

“What the fuck? I’ve been trying to get call you for almost an hour. Come outside.”

You slide on your slippers, whisper-shouting into the speaker, “some of us are not nocturnal like you, Yoongi.” Just as you expected, his car is parked across the house, and you hope with all your heart that your parents are on their third dream. “What do you want?”

His voice trembles slightly which has you pausing, hand on the doorknob, “Yoongi? What’s going on?”

“Fuck. Just come outside and I’ll tell you!”

You’ve only seen Yoongi like this on a few occasions, so when you find him with his head in his hands, you know your paranoia is justified.

As soon as you click in the seatbelt, he’s speeding off, eyes dimmed.

“Jungkook’s been in an accident.”

Your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach, yet still throbs in your mouth.

“W-What? When? Is he okay?”

He rubs his chin, ignoring the blinking light for his own seatbelt, “I don’t know. He’s at the hospital now.”

“When did this happen?”

“I don’t know. Some time after he dropped you off. He got back to leave the car and said he’s going home. Fuck, if I was with him—“ he continues to curse under his breath, ignoring the speed limit.

You rub your palms on your knees, tears flowing freely before Yoongi parks haphazardly outside the ER. You’re fast but he’s faster, barging in and asking for Jungkook. The nurse tries to tell him that he’ll need to slow down, you’re growing impatient, reaching over the desk to pull the monitor in your direction. With frantic eyes, you search for his name to find nothing. Yoongi tugs on your arm, dragging you down the hallway while you’re trying not to skid on the glossy tiles with your useless slippers.

Breaths haggard, you pull back each curtain, not expecting the first one to reveal what you were looking for.

“Yoongi!” Your hands fly to your mouth, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight.

“Fucking hell.”

The nurse standing beside his head spins around, eyes widening in alarm before she shoves both of you out of the cubicle. You crane your neck to look over her shoulder, blinking away hot tears.

Jungkook’s eyes are shut, lips parted with his face covered in blood, his shirt matted and clinging to his body. You’re one second away from losing your mind, tongue like lead in your mouth.

“Are you friends of his?”

You let Yoongi do all the talking, falling back to sit on the chair, nothing but the worst passing through your mind. He hurt his head. There’s blood all over him. He’s unconscious. A low shrill jumps out of your chest as you slump forward, sobs wracking your body. If you lose him, you’ll lose your sanity.

Sucking in a sharp breath, you lift your head when you feel a hand on your back. Yoongi stands with his eyes downcast, proffering a familiar black jacket. You hold it up to your face with trembling hands, wet eyelashes kissing your cheeks as you breathe in Jungkook’s scent. More tears staining your cheeks.

“What did she say?”

He huffs down on the chair next to yours, index finger rubbing his temple.

“She said someone called the ambulance from his phone but no one else was at the scene when they found him. So, his injuries couldn’t have been from a motorcycle accident,” he chuckles dryly, scrubbing a hand down his cheek, “and we know Jungkook, he’s too sharp for that.”

You swallow thickly, voice nasally, “what about h-him? Will he be okay?”

His head snaps in your direction, nailing you with an exasperated glare, “this is Jungkook we’re talking about. He’s a fighter.”

That does nothing to tame your fear and Yoongi knows it.

“He’ll be fine,” he adds after a beat of silence, knee bobbing incessantly, “he just needs a few stitches.”

Despite hearing those words, your heart still hammers in your ribcage, face feeling hot and prickly.

“Wait,” you break the silence, turning to face Yoongi who’s busy on his phone, “who told you?”

“His father.”

“How did he know?”

Yoongi’s head lifts slowly, realization dawning his features before he grabs the leather jacket from you, inspecting every inch.

“There’s no blood on his jacket,” he notes, dropping it back into your lap before he rises from the chair, “I’m gonna get him a room, he might have to spend a few nights here.”

“Yoongi,” you call, tugging on his sleeve, “this wasn’t an accident.”

He purses his lips, gaze firm, “we’ll just have to wait until he wakes up so we can ask him what really happened.”

The wait is excruciatingly painful, you might have lost a chunk of hair with burgeoning anxiety. Yoongi gets you coffee, but you can’t finish it, the worries weighing on your shoulders is enough to keep you awake until the nurses say you can see him.

You can think of a handful of people that would want to hurt Jungkook and actually follow through with it. If you were to narrow them down, none of it made any sense. Hurting Jungkook meant denting his father’s business immensely and no one wanted to make enemies with Jeon and his bees. But it looks like someone did, and Yoongi would stop at nothing to find out who was behind it.

Jungkook’s father can be too complacent at times, that’s why Jungkook takes some matters into his own hands. It never backfired.

When you see Jungkook sitting up in bed, bandage around his head with a straw caught between his lips, a monsoon of relief washes over, especially when his beady eyes catch on yours. You surge forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders while he hisses and groans, returning your hug as best as he can.

“Hey,” he scolds, thumbing away your tears, “I’m okay. Look. I’m fine.”

“I know,” you sniffle, propping yourself on the edge of the bed, “I saw you…all bloody and—”

He chuckles, smoothing a hand over your shoulder, “you got scared?”

“Yeah.”

Knuckles running down your cheek, he kisses his teeth, “you’re my strong girl.”

You give him a shy smile, inspecting the marks of his forehead. He hands you the juice box, turning to Yoongi who stands at the door.

“I hope my baby is okay.”

The spark in his dark eyes never dulls, you’ll leave it to Jungkook to make a joke out of every situation. No matter how serious it may be.

“You’re worried about your bike?!”

He falls back on the pillow, laughing tiredly, “Of course…But just imagine me rolling off my bike, on the side of the road like a loose tire!”

Yoongi sits on the armchair a few feet away from the bad, hiding his smile poorly.

“Good to see you back in shape.”

You glance at Yoongi, taking a sip from Jungkook’s juice box, “Yoongi was crying.”

“I was not!”

“Yes,” you poke, waving a finger in his direction, “you were!”

Jungkook’s lips stretch over his teeth goofily, never missing the opportunity to tease Yoongi.

“You were crying for me hyung?”

Yoongi mumbles under his breath, leaning his cheek on his fist before he changes the subject.

“How are you feeling?”

Jungkook stretches his arms over his head, and if you weren’t sitting so close you wouldn’t have noticed the slight tick in his jaw when he sets them back down.

“Never been better.”

Yoongi props his ankle on his knee, folding his arms over his chest, “what really happened then?”

Jungkook avoids his question, gesturing for you to feed him the yogurt you just opened. He hums quietly, pecking your cheek before asking for another spoonful but you decline, shooting him a suspicious look. Both you and Yoongi have the same reprimanding frown to your lips, waiting for his response.

“What did you do?”

“Hyung,” he begins, adjusting the pillow behind him, “you know how it is when—”

“What—“ Yoongi seethes, leaning forward on his knees “—did you do?”

Jungkook grows defensive, voice raising enough to have the same nurse from earlier barging in to ask if everything is okay. That’s when you know that he caused all this.

“I think he should rest,” she suggests, hands clasped in front of her politely, “you two can come back later.”

Yoongi throws a cursory glance over his shoulder at Jungkook before you hop off the bed, stopped by a hand around your wrist.

You’re hyperaware of the nurse hovering about the door when he yanks you forward and smashes your lips to his, chapped and sloppy but enough to have your stomach twisting in on itself.

“I’ll see you later,” you breathe, steadying yourself on the mattress.

His lips ghost yours, fingers slotting with yours, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He chases your lips, pouting when you pull away and walk around the bed. With warm cheeks, you apologize to the nurse who holds the door open for you, turning around one last time to blow a kiss in Jungkook’s direction. He holds up his fist, pretending to catch it before holding it to his heart. You laugh to yourself, heart feeling lighter.

It’s been years since you visited this hospital. The last time was when your mother had her kidney operation, and a lot has changed in those few years. The usual teal and white accents was swapped for pale green and baby pink. You don’t know which you like better, both combinations were equally unnerving. But you guess that’s the way a hospital will always feel. People only come here out of obligation, a depressing and unsettling reason behind their visit.

When does one visit the hospital for a joyous occasion?

Ah.

You take your exploration further down, remembering that the maternity wards were a floor below the ER. There’s a large sliding door separating the maternity wards from the rest of the hospital. And you’d need a key card to enter. Cupping your hands over your eyes, you attempt to look further down the hallway, heart stuttering in your chest when the glass slips from under your hands and you stumble forward.

A nurse, wearing pink scrubs, doesn’t spare you a single look as you follow her in. But you knew it was too good to be true when the guy at the mini-reception area cuts your journey short.

“Where are you going, miss?”

Here you are, standing in your white pajamas and pink slippers. You don’t question his judgement as he eyes you down.

“Oh, I was just—” you jut your thumb down the unfamiliar hallway “—visiting.”

His attention is drawn to the telephone that rings behind him, “what ward?”

“Erm…” The whiteboard behind has a bunch of numbers scrawled in different colours, a Ms. B Kim catches your eye. “A8?” You clear your throat, “A8.”

He nods, phone tucked between his shoulder and ear and you’re free to go.

It smells of detergent and musk. You could hear a pin drop. Soft giggles and mumbling come from behind the closed doors, and you find ward A8 easily. But what you were actually looking for is found a little further down. Tiny cribs, some vacant, others occupied with little humans.

You grasp at the glass, flinching when a nurse catches sight of you, but she just waves, coming to stand on the other side of the incubator.

She mouths the words, ‘which baby?’ And you point to a random crib on the far end, plucking at the hem of your sleepshirt.

Even tinier hands, big eyes popping out of its equally bigger head. You stand awestruck, palm pressed to the glass while she holds up the specimen like a burger, peeking around it. Her eyebrows furrow and you realize that she’s waiting for a reaction. You coo, jutting out your bottom lip for her entertainment to which she smiles. Gently, she runs her hand over the babies face which turns a bright pink, gums exposed as its small lips curve up. A genuine smile takes over your features, the impractical urge to squish and pinch its face claws at your heart.

You wonder how it smells in there.

She sets her down, (you’re assuming it’s a girl since they’re all bald) and gets back to work, checking in on the other babies.

They’re all motionless, different shades and shapes but still the same. In identical cribs, lined up next to each other. It’s a funny thing. This is where you all started—”

“What are you doing here?”

Yoongi shuffles over with his hands in his pockets, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I was…uhm…bored so I came here. How did you get in?”

He shrugs, cat-like eyes widening a fraction just as yours did when you first saw them.

“They’re cute, right?”

He’s silent, disgust painting his features before he spins around, leaning against the glass inattentively.

“What do you think he did?”

You sigh, “I don’t know. But he knows he messed up.”

Yoongi scratches his chin, eyes on the floor, “yeah. His father is so fucking angry.”

“I would be too. If my son almost died a few hours ago.”

Yoongi laughs mirthlessly, crossing and uncrossing his legs, “you really think he’s angry because of that? Come on. You should know him by now.”

You tap on the glass, a voiceless cry coming from the baby nearest to you.

“I don’t know what shit Jungkook stirred up but it’s not something that’ll die off quickly.”

Humming quietly, you mirror Yoongi’s posture. Exhausted from coming up with your own conspiracies but still finding new ones to dissect.

“I…”

At his hesitance, you lift your head to look at Yoongi, finding a distant smile on his face.

“I spoke to him. Jungkook’s father, I mean.”

Your eyebrows furrow, “about what?”

“Leaving.”

“Oh.” Your hands sag at your sides, “you’re leaving.”

He nods, sucking his lower lip into his mouth, “I’m tired of all this, ___. I can’t do it anymore.”

You nudge his shoulder, grinning at him playfully, “does your girlfriend have anything to do with it? Hmm?”

“No,” he states plainly, “she doesn’t. I wanted to leave for a long time but things kept coming up. I want to start afresh. Make a new life for myself. Go to college. Fuck. I don’t know.”

After he mentions college, you laugh, slumping against the wall, “Yoongi? A college boy? Never would’ve imagined.”

“I’m serious,” he warns, “aren’t you tired of it?”

Your smile falls. Tired of it meant being tired of Jungkook. This is all he knows.

Yoongi takes your silence as an answer and he changes his tune, slinging an arm over your shoulder.

“You know, I want you to meet her. I feel like you two would get along.”

You shrug off his hand, taking one last look at the babies then loiter along the hall, grimacing when a sudden breeze creeps down your neck.

“It’s funny that we haven’t met her yet,” you laugh, “are you embarrassed of us?”

He snorts, reaching up to rub the back of his neck as you head for the staircase.

The rest of your week is spent in the hospital. Yoongi managed to work something out, or bribe, with the head nurse, so you had a comfortable recliner right next to Jungkook’s bed. Following your instructions carefully, he snuck into your room and picked the few things you needed for your extended holiday. It’s still beyond you how he did it in broad daylight.

But once again, your impromptu vacation comes to an end. You’re sat on Jungkook’s lap, waiting for the doctor to come in for his last check-up.

“Hmm,” you wonder out loud, gripping Jungkook’s chin, “you need a shave.”

He brings your fingers up to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of your hand like he always does, “do it for me?”

You smile, nuzzling into his neck, “okay.”

The sound of your phone ringing disrupts the tender moment, and when it cuts just as you pull it out of your jeans pocket, you can tell who it is without looking at the screen.

“Shit.”

Jungkook gives you a pained smile, “you have to go.”

“Yeah,” you say dejectedly, “I’ll see you later.”

He kisses the corner of your mouth, tailing you to the door, “it’s better if I see you tomorrow. It’s been a while since you saw them. Also, Yoongi and I have some business to attend to.”

“Okay,” you mumble, reaching up to set one last kiss on his puffed-up cheek, “keep safe.”

He relinquishes his hold on your hand with a sorrowful frown, “you too.”

Bitter weather for your bitter mood.

Two weeks. It’s been two weeks since you last saw your parents but to them, it must be two months. That’s how dramatic they can be.

Not once did they call during that time but tonight must’ve been the last straw for them.

You’re an adult. Been one for a few years now but they still have a hold on you that you would never be free of as long as Jungkook is in your life. It’s understandable, one would be afraid if their daughter is involved with the son of Jeon. One of the biggest drug lords your generation and the one before that has ever known.

It’s your life. They don’t get to choose who’s apart of it.  

Once you make it to the front door, fiddling with the straps on your backpack, you decide ‘fuck it’ and shove the door open. Your mother sits in her chair at the kitchen table, back facing the front door and your father stews in the lounge. Newspaper, which is just a prop, obscuring your view of his face.

The door shuts behind you and he sets down the paper, rising to his feet to stand at the fireplace.

When was the last time you used that thing? Cleaned it? Must’ve been some time before high school, when you were still a kid. Fascinated by the flames inside your home.

“Good evening,” he roars, “how nice of you to grace us with your presence.”

Devoid of emotion, he beckons you further inside your own home, a sarcastic smile on his crumpled features.

You hover near the hallway, pushing the straps of your bag over your shoulders.

“I’m tired. What’s going on?”

An awfully dry laugh reaches your eyes, spiking your fear even further. But he doesn’t give you an answer, your belongings brimming three trash bags does. You crouch down in front of it, thorns prickling your throat when you see your shattered frame on the floor, slowly dusting off the shards of glass to salvage the photo behind it.

“One rotten egg in a carton,” he shouts from somewhere behind you, the words all too familiar to you, “and no one wants it. One spoiled fruit, give it a few days and the rest are just the same.”

You stand up on shaky feet, chewing on your lip to keep the tears at bay. It was only a matter of time.

“You live in my house, you follow my rules,” he continues, looming closer and closer, “you knew that. You don’t care about your future, why should we? Your mother and I are tired of saying the same thing over and over again. It’s been a year since you finished school and there’s no direction in your life.”

Silent tears drip from your chin, having accepted your fate the moment you walked in.

“That boy—” he spits “—there’s no place for you here. Please lea—“

Before he can complete that sentence, you struggle with the bags and kick open the door, forcing yourself to look ahead. Don’t stop to find guilt in your mother’s eyes, remorse in your father’s. Because you know you’ll find none.

Chest locking up, your eyes burn as you push through the night. Your pride is what keeps you going, throat working wildly, throwing curse after curse at your parents. They were never willing to take accountability. Did they stop to think just once that you’re who you are today because of them? Only when you got your report card did they care. Even then, to compare you to the rest of your classmates.

You try to recount the most memorable days of your childhood but all it does is bring tears to your eyes. When you think of happiness to counter that emotion, Jungkook is the only face that comes to mind.

No matter who your child turns out to be, you would never kick them out or abandon them. You vow to yourself. To give them time, be gentle and understanding. And compassionate. Accepting of their emotions. The complete opposite of your parents.

You don’t know how long you’ve been walking for, your feet ache, lips and throat dry. Ignoring the group of dodgy men sitting under the staircase, you drag your limbs a little further, carting the bags behind you before you bang a fist on Jungkook’s door, unaware of the inquisitive stares from down the hall.

Yoongi opens the door halfway, speaking in a hushed tone when he shrieks your name.

“What are you doing here?”

“Yoongi,” you sob, holding up your bags, “please get Jungkook.”

“Fuck. Hold on.”

You expect him to wait for you to enter but he shuts the door in your face, leaving you to stare at the pale wood before the door swings open and a frazzled Jungkook steps out. In much better shape than you.

“Hey, hey,” he coos, pulling your head to his chest, “it’s okay. You can stay with me, hey.”

Squishing your cheeks between his palms, he tilts his head to look into your eyes, all the security you need pooling in them.

“We knew this was going to happen. It’s okay,” he affirms, placing kisses on every inch of your face. You can’t seem to stop the tears, falling lax in his arms. “Come on, you’re my strong girl, right?”

Sniffling, you lift your eyes to find his, immediately drowning in their comfort.

“Listen, Yoongi and I have someone over and I don’t—”

The door hits the wall harshly as it flies open. Jungkook curses, screwing his eyes shut before turning around.

“What’s going on here?”

You would’ve been afraid, if you weren’t used to seeing men with muscles twice the size of their head and a murky left pupil. However, with the way Jungkook’s entire body stiffens, sweaty palm slipping into your own, a fearful shiver runs down your spine.

Jungkook clears his throat, side-stepping around the burly, tattooed man who takes up half the doorway, drenched in heavy perfume. An attempt to cover the stink you pick up despite his efforts. He’s covered in ink, but the one that catches your attention is the eye on his neck. Where have you seen that tattoo before?

You had almost forgotten about your luggage when Jungkook reaches around and grabs all three in one hand, shoving you into the apartment where you’re greeted by two unfamiliar men dressed similar to the hefty man breathing down your necks. Yoongi stands at the door with his nail snagged between his teeth, gaze set on the firearms lined up on the coffee table. Cactus plant lying on the carpet.

From their silence alone, you can tell that you walked into something. And you know Jungkook’s fear only spikes when one of the men obstructs your path to his room, gesturing for you to sit on the couch. Opposite someone you’d hoped to see. Under different circumstances.

Dry blood coats the side of Jake’s face, his dark hair wet and stringy, head hung low. His hazel eyes flicker to you and you’re reminded of his sister. A loud click of another gun hitting the table breaks through your thoughts, a smug smile fitted on the boss,’ you assume, face as he plops down next to Jake, slapping his back harshly. Jake doesn’t provide any reaction, bloody fingers clutching his knees as he fits into the man’s side.

You only realize that your breaths are strained when his malicious gaze falls on you, heart racking against your ribcage wildly.

“This your girlfriend?”

Jungkook’s hold around your hand tightens, “let’s get this over with, Yang.”

Yang. You don’t think you’ve heard that name before.

He sucks his teeth, leaning back against the couch, soil from the damaged cactus pot smeared by his boot. This is the first time you’ve ever seen Yoongi this silent during a time like this, but when he does speak, you realize why.

Yang points to the guns, chunky rings glittering under the dim light, “I’m waiting for you, big boy. Take your pick.”

Yoongi takes a hurried step forward, “Jungkoo—”

His mouth clamps shut when one of the scrawny men hits the side of Yoongi’s head with the gun you hadn’t noticed earlier. You grimace when he yelps out in pain, a trickle of blood running through his eyebrow.

Yang laughs, low and ominous, “he talks too much.”

You’re too worried about Yoongi to focus on what he’s saying, Jake’s sorrowful eyes locked on yours before Yang springs up.

“Free delivery,” he guffaws, nudging Jake’s knee, “I know you need him more than I do. But you know what I need in return.”

Jungkook glances at Jake, then to Yoongi, who’s shaking his head frantically, then Yang. He says nothing, but the look in his eyes tells you that he made his decision already. A decision Yoongi won’t be too happy with. His hand slips from your grip and he reaches around the couch, setting a heavy overnight bag on the table over the guns. You’re finally up to speed.

One of Yang’s men stationed at the door stomps toward the table but is halted when his boss raises a hand, eyes not leaving Jungkook’s for a second. Your head throbs, body trembling.

“That won’t be necessary,” he smiles, buttoning his coat, “see Jeon. I trust you. Unlike your father.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenches and unclenches before he’s forced to stand up and take Yang’s outstretched hand. When he’s about to let go, Yang yanks his hand harshly, speaking into his ear. You share a curious look with Yoongi who seems to be seething in the corner.

The door shuts behind them as they leave and you would’ve yelled out in relief, but Jake sits on the couch, a different expression on his face.

“Fuck!” Yoongi shouts, rushing to the kitchen to wash his face, “do you know what the fuck you just did?”

“What else was I supposed to fucking do?” Jungkook screams from his place in the hallway, helping you with your bags.

“That’s YANG,” Yoongi grunts, voice muffled by the sound of water running. “You basically just signed a non-cancellable, non-negotiable business contract with him! Must I remind you who the fuck he is?”

Once your bags are in Jungkook’s room, you follow him into the kitchen, ready with your own questions. Jake calls your name from the lounge, flashing you a crooked smile.

“C-can I have s-some water?” He croaks, bloodied hand clutching his chest.

Jungkook and Yoongi are too caught up in their own tiff to notice you grab a glass of water. You almost feel sorry for Jake. Almost. He seems weaker than before, bones protruding from under his skin. Well, he chose this path for himself. Now you’d just have to wait to get a word in and ask Jungkook how he’s letting Jake sit here with no shackles.

You watch him chug down every drop, shaking fingers gripping onto the glass clumsily. He wipes the side of his mouth, “can I have some more, please?”

Hand on your hip, you bend down to take the glass from the table, focused on their argument. And then you hear the cup shatter, a strong arm around your neck. You cough, eyes bulging out of your skull as you feel your heartrate pick up once again.

But you don’t need to call Jungkook, Jake does it for you, dragging you to the door before grabbing one of the guns. You’re too terrified to take notice of where he places it, struggling and squirming for breath when you see Jungkook and Yoongi come running out of the kitchen, their expressions blurred.

“He-lp.” You bang a limp hand on Jake’s side, head going fuzzy.

You can feel his hot, putrid breath on your ear, his grip around your throat loosening slightly for you to yell out in pain.

“This won’t end,” Jake pants, pressing you into his chest, “this won’t end Jeon.”

Yoongi holds up his palms placatingly, while Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from charging forward. But he knows better.

“Relax,” Yoongi says awfully calm, flinching when the gun replaces the hand around your neck. You gulp, screwing your eyes shut, nothing but Jungkook’s panicked expression flashes behind your lids. “I’m sure we can figure something out. You won’t have to run anymore.”

“NO!” Jake growls, “I’m tired of your fucking promises!”

Feeling the gun slide down your throat lightly, you take it as your opening to drive your heel into his shin. He howls, gripping the back of your hair.

It happens too fast. The last thing you remember is being plummeted to the ground with the corner of the coffee table a little too close. Screaming. A few gunshots and then black.

The line between your dreams and reality is hazy. You wake up in a cold-sweat, heart thundering in your chest as you squint into the dark. The cold blue light coming from the window provides little help. The figurines lining the shelf next to you gives you a clue. A mix between a breath of relief and a distressed cry fills the silent air.

When you run a hand through your hair, the throb in your head being a painful reminder of what happened just before you collapsed. You sit up in bed when you hear voices, seeing your jacket hung over his chair in the corner as tears prickle the corners of your eyes. Then, you think of your dream. It was so weird, but you don’t want to forget it.

Jungkook’s glistening doe eyes looking up at you. Except he wasn’t himself. He was a kid again. From what you remember. A cute little boy.

Just as you’re about to stand up, Jungkook appears in the doorway, running a towel through his hair. He smiles, bare chest glistening in the low light, “you’re awake.”

The bed bounces when he sits down next to you, index finger tickling your cheek. You lean into his touch, throat a little itchy when you mumble a small greeting.

“You have pillow marks on your face,” he chuckles, minty breath fanning over your lips.

“What happened?”

His smile disappears, damp towel flopping into his lap, “well,” he begins, inhaling a shaky breath before his eyes meet yours, glazed with tears, “you hit your head and…I thought I lost you.”

Your lips tremble, searching for words, “and Jake?”

He smashes the heels of his palms into his eyes, dismissing your question with a shake of his head. Sniffling lightly, he takes both your hands into his own, pressing a kiss to each of your knuckles while you’re trying to swallow the boulder that seems to have lodged in your throat.

“How are you feeling?”

You nod, smoothing your thumbs over his fingers, “my head hurts a bit but I’m fine.”

“That fucker—” he grits, enraged for a millisecond. The crease between his eyebrows softens when he turns to you again, “don’t worry. Yoongi and I took care of the body.”

Your heart stills in your chest, “body?”

He shoots you a tormented look, “I thought you knew.”

“No,” you cry, “I can’t remember anything.”

He pulls you onto his lap, arms encircling your shoulders to calm your sobs, “shush, it’s okay. Jake…he…we tried to reason with him, but it was too late. If I was even a second late…” He pauses, burying his face in your shoulder, “I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

You’re at a loss for words. Still waiting for a proper explanation from him.

Spinning around in his lap, you cup his cheek, tilting his head slightly, “what was he doing with that guy, Yang?”

He licks his lips, a powerless look on his face, “Yang was after my father for a long time, so when he heard that I’m handling things…he was waiting for the right moment before he took action. Now, Jake,” he continues, voice strained with grief, “I don’t know how he got involved with Yang, but he knew that we were after him. Yang approached me and that’s how Jake landed up here.”

“Wait, you’re talking about that night? The night of your accident?”

He shrugs helplessly, “they didn’t give me much of a choice.”

“Shit.”

“If I didn’t stop Jake, one of us wouldn’t be here. And I couldn’t risk it,” he rushes out, as if convincing himself more than you. He speaks into your hair, clutching your hands tightly, “he lost control, ___. I didn’t know what else to do. If anything happened to you…or Yoongi.”

You spin around in his lap, pressing your forehead to his as you run your thumbs over his cheeks, wiping away the tears while yours cascade down your face.

“Baby, I’m still here,” you affirm, “I’m still here.”

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” he whispers, voice nasally and cracked, “you’re my lifeline.”

Fighting with your tears, you take his lips in a salty kiss, heart stuttering in your chest as he grabs the back of your head, angling your face for him to take over, capturing you in his passionate embrace. Your tongues lash against each other, falling back onto the bed where he lays you down on your side, hands sliding under your t-shirt.

His fingers twist in your hair, exposing your neck to his greedy attack on your neck. Drawing out soft whimpers from your kiss-bitten lips.

“If anyone lays a hand on you again,” he grits out, tongue laving over the fresh bruise he made with his teeth, “I’ll fucking…ki—”

His words are interrupted by your loud moans, grinding into his bulge that grows under the thin material of his towel. With the hold he has on your hair, he yanks your head back, free hand grabbing at your thigh that hooks around his waist instinctively.

“Desperate for my cock? It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Meekly, your head hits your chin as you nod, struggling in his hold for some friction, heat pooling in your core. You ogle the hand that’s snug around your thigh, humming when he continues to knead your flesh.

“Missed this,” he smirks, reaching up to smack your ass, “missed these thighs.”

Tingles erupting over your skin, you lean forward, whining when he sucks his lips into his mouth, hand coming down on the back of your thigh to have you jolting forward. Pouting, you reach down and snatch the towel from around his waist, reaching down to grab the base of his veiny cock.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, thrusting into your hand shallowly before he grips your wrist, legs on either side of your body as he pins your hands to the bed.

He smells of coconut, hair still wet from the shower which only has you wriggling in his hold, lifting your head to try and get a taste of the droplets sitting between his pecs.

Lips lifted in a smirk, his free hand travels up your stomach over your shirt, resting just below your nipples, “someone’s being a naughty slut tonight.” He tuts as if he doesn’t enjoy teaching you a lesson, as if he doesn’t love it when you’re completely fucked out beneath him, begging for him to keep going. Or for him to stop.

Heat unfurls in your lower abdomen, watching the way his long fingers wrap around his cock, precum messing your leggings as he runs the tip over your thighs.

“Jungkook…”

“What?”

“Touch me,” you whine, clit throbbing incessantly. He notices you eyeing his hands, obviously aware of how much you love them. Your mouth hangs open when he brings his fingers up to your mouth, tongue resting on your lower lip. Drool slips down the sides of your mouth as he runs them up and down your tongue, eyes shimmering with lust fixated on the motion.

You gag when he pushes them far back down your throat, clothes sticking to your body with the sweat you manage to work up from trying to keep still.

“Fucking slut. Ask me nicely. Otherwise, you won’t get anything, and you’d have to watch me make myself cum.”

“No, no,” you speak around his fingers, slicking up his whole hand with your spit, “please touch me. Please.”

Desperation brimming your voice, he lets you suck on his fingers for a little while, head cocked to the side while your tongue swirls around them. The same wet hand gets you naked in a split second, only your panties clinging to your folds while he positions you over his lap, hands running over the globes of your ass.

You’re grabbing onto the edge of the nightstand, eyes on the floor as he traces the outline of your puffy lips, getting close to where you need him the most. He pinches your clit over the fabric, and you lean back into his hand, earning a harsh smack to your ass. The action has you jerking forward, boobs hanging off the bed when he hikes your ass up higher, peeling off your panties.

He blows onto your cunt, thumbs holding your lips apart while your hole clenches, mouth glued shut with anticipation.

“Fuck, this slutty little pussy is begging for my cock,” he punctuates his words with a slap to your clit, spreading around your slick as you continue to clench around nothing, willing yourself not to make a move because it’ll only be more agonizing for you.

A gasp tumbles from your lips when he spits on your pussy twice, the third time a little higher, saliva dripping down your ass cheeks which he keeps spread open with the ruthless grip he has on one, fingers tracing your leaking hole.

“You’re gonna have to wait,” he chuckles, placing a featherlight touch on your clit, “got to stretch you out for my fat cock first. But you don’t mind, do you? You love my fingers, stretching you open until you’re a fucked out mess. You want that, huh? Have you moaning for everyone to hear?”

You’re panting, a chorus of ‘yes, yes, yes’ joining the sounds of his hand coming down on your ass cheeks, taken by surprise when he plunges two fingers into your sopping hole, unchaining a range of sensations that travel up the length of your body.

He finds your sweet spot with ease, pads of his dexterous fingers working to abuse it, hot squelches reaching your ears as you continue to drip down his hand, moaning unabashedly when he brings your ass up to his face and suckles your clit between his soft lips, taking you further into the throes of desire.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you whimper, grinding on his tongue that rolls out against your clit, alternating between suctioning around your throbbing bud and lapping up your slick, both have you collapsing on the bed, unable to hold yourself up any longer.

“Gonna cum already? Been so long since I touched you like this and it’s gonna be over so soon,” he laments with a snigger, tongue curling around your clit just as he shoves his fingers into your cunt at breakneck speed. “I can feel you squeezing around my fingers, fuck.”

Your head lolls forward, shoulders vibrating with the pleasure while you’re rutting into his hand and face, eyes rolling back once you take in the sensation of his thumb encircling your puckered hole, filthy sounds of his mouth slurping up your essence only urges you on. His fingers don’t stop for a beat and your thighs begin to shake, breaths becoming weaker and weaker. You cry out when he bites your inner thigh, adding a third finger to your pussy while your other hole clenches with the feeling of his thumb dragging over the sensitive skin there.

“Ah, fuck. Jungkook. I’m gonna—” your eyelids flutter, lips parted when he slides a sticky hand around your neck and brings you close to his chest.

“Come on, fuck yourself on my fingers. That’s it, good girl. Such a pretty little slut for me.”

Hands on his thighs, you lift yourself off his hand, chasing your high with wanton moans of his name. You can feel his cock press into your back, finger and thumb closing around the sides of your neck as you try to stave off your orgasm, relishing in the feel of his fingers molding to your ridged walls.

He turns your head with his thumb, lips grazing yours just as he hooks his fingers into your pussy, buried deep inside while your nails dig into his thighs, your high rippling through you in paralyzing waves. But he doesn’t stop moving his hand, loving the way your thighs and ass trembles the more he drives his fingers into your swollen cunt.

“Jungkook,” you gasp, pained moans leaping from your chest that heaves when he begins to scissor you open. He smacks your hand away when you reach behind to pull away his hand, rubbing that spot inside you with a laugh.

“Gonna cum again? Hm? Give me another, come on,” he’s just as breathless as you, keeping you flush against his chest before you surrender to the feeling and gush all over his hand once again, sighing when he brings your slick up to your engorged clit.

You slide down his lap, given no time to catch your breath before his glazed cockhead hits your chin, hair being tossed over your shoulder as you sink down and take him to the back of your throat. Practiced twists of your hand around the base to hear him groan and hiss, fingers twisting in your hair to guide you over his thick cock.

“That’s it, get it nice and wet for me,” he purrs, hand meeting your ass in a searing smack. You moan around his length, wiggling your head expertly as you feel him grow in your mouth, tongue peeking out to graze the skin of his balls. “Fucking shit.”

He drags you off his cock, painful grip in your hair adding to your arousal, “want me to cum in your mouth? Is that what you wanted? Speak whore.”

“J-Just want your cock,” you blubber, leaning down to lick at his nipples hotly.

He bites down his whimper, reaching up to pluck at your nipples which has you flinging your head back. You grip his shoulder when his nail grazes your sensitive skin, attempting to straddle his lap but he pushes you off the bed entirely. Keeping you on your feet.

“Like a fucking ragdoll,” he grips your hips, guiding your hands to the nightstand as he kicks your legs open, prodding at your entrance with the blunt tip, “waiting to be filled with cock.”

You’re waiting for him to sink in, but he slaps your ass, only the head being shoved in when you jerk backward, keening for him.

“Say it,” he growls, “tell me what a desperate cockslut you are.”

“I’m a—Ah!”

He sinks in swiftly, bottoming out while your nails curl over the wood, holding on for dear life when he draws his hips back and slams into you with renewed vigor. Your sensitive walls welcome each vein, each ridge, each inch. Wet pussy stretching to accommodate his length as your bodies meet in fiery lust. Your nerves are lit with pleasure, every moan ending in a scream when he hits that spot on his thrust, hips drilling his cock to the hilt.

“Fuck, so fucking tight for me,” he almost whines, large hand placed on your back to have you falling forward. Body folded in half as he finds a new angle and begins to thrust upwards. Blood rushes to your head, reaching out for his ankles to fuck back on him just the way he likes before you hear his moans begin to taper off into whimpers and then he’s pulling you back up and you’re tossed onto the bed, head hanging off the edge when he slips right in.

He grips your chin, tapping your lip and your jaw immediately unhinges, flinching when he spits directly on your tongue, walls pulsing around his throbbing cock.

“Swallow it,” he warns, raven hair dripping with sweat that hits your forehead as he rams into you, boobs bouncing in time with his thrusts. Your lips part, a satisfied hum reverberating from his chest.

Your mind is empty. Nothing but the sounds and sensations of Jungkook’s cock splitting open your pussy fills your head. Delirious, you’re trying to meet his thrusts but your head feels fuzzy, getting extremely close to the edge with every perfect snap of his hips. His fingers twist and pinch your nipples, teeth sinking into your shoulder to etch more of his marks into your skin.

“Come on,” he teases, hand wrapping around your throat, “how does it feel? Does it feel good, hm? My cock buried inside your pussy. Want me to touch your clit? Of course you want that. Greedy little slut.”

His thumb flicks your clit from side to side, heady gaze locked on yours with his hips working faster, his muscular body wrapped around yours, “want me to stuff this pussy full of my cum? Hm? Can’t even speak. Tell me slut, want me to cum inside your pussy?”

Unable to hold back any longer, his words pulling that sensation taut in your abdomen until it snaps and you’re trembling under him, walls quivering around his length as he whimpers and curses. Spilling deep inside you when you clamp down on him. Tingles rise on your skin, mouth hanging open in a silent moan. Your ears ring once the feeling starts to ebb away. He pulls out, eliciting a yelp from your lips when he starts to fuck his fingers into you, stuffing his leaking cum back inside your hole.

You’re unconscious for the second time that night.

Something wakes you up from your sleep, and you expect it to be morning. However, the moon is still high up, sitting among the stars. You’re wearing one of Jungkook’s shirts, sore from earlier as you rise from the pillow. It takes you a few seconds to notice that he’s sitting hunched at the foot of the bed, staring out the window with an unreadable expression on his face.

Curiously, you scoot down and kiss his bare shoulder, taking him by surprise. He gives you a small smile, tucking you under his arm as you join him to watch the still of the night.

“What are you thinking about?”

His hair flops over his eyes as he shakes his head, “nothing.”

“It has to be something.”

The same unreadable expression returns to his face and you’re annoyed, because you need to know what it means.

“Yoongi is leaving.”

He’s worried.

“I know.”

He opens and closes his mouth a few times before finally saying, “I wish it was that easy for me.”

Your eyebrows pinch together, “what do you mean?”

He blinks, Adam’s apple bobbing when he turns to face you, “I wish it was that easy for me to just leave.”

One thing Jungkook hated discussing, was his family and their line of business. The fact that he’s talking about it tonight tells you that’s deeply affected by Yoongi’s decision. You are too. You just weren’t sure about how he felt about it.

“You can.”

He scoffs, averting his gaze to your intertwined fingers, “yeah, right. I’m in for life.”

You’d rather not speak at all then lie. But the silence after his statement becomes too much for you.

“Where would you go?”

“Hm?”

“If you could leave,” you continue, choosing your words carefully, “where would you go?”

“Far away,” he says with no thought, “far away from here, from everyone. My family, yours. This town. This life.”

“And what about me?”

At that he smiles, nose nudging yours, “I’ll take you with me, of course.”

You giggle, “and what will we do far away?”

“Whatever you want. But—” he holds up a finger “—it has to be nothing like what we do here.”

“Nothing like what we do here?”

“Yes.”

“Nothing,” you tease, cocking a suggestive brow.

He slides a hand over your waist, catching up quickly, “with a few exceptions.”

The kiss is slow and hypnotic, lips moving over one another like you have all the time in the world. Because you do.

If only that were true.

You fell off to sleep on the other end of the bed, waking up to a yelling Jungkook as he shakes your shoulder lightly.

“What? What happened?”

He’s fully dressed, gloves and jacket on, helmet tucked under his arm. You follow him out of the room, a bitter taste on your tongue. Yoongi waits at the door, nail lodged between his teeth while you’re stumbling after Jungkook. Except he’s still in his pajamas like you.

“I have to go,” he states, rushing out the door.

You grab his arm, puzzled, “where are you going? Let me come with you.”

He doesn’t meet your eyes, the same unreadable expression on his face from last night, “no you can’t. It’s not safe.”

“If it’s not safe,” you breathe, blocking your eyes from the brutal sunlight, “then why are you going?”

“Because I have to,” he rushes, faint scar on his cheek much more noticeable now, “it’s Yang.”

Your heart thunders in your chest. Teeth grinding into each other as you try to keep away the tears.

“Is Yoongi going with you?”

“No.”

“How long are you going for?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

His head snaps up, gaze stern, “I have to go.” You let him take your face in his heads, savoring the feeling of his lips against yours and when he pulls away, you can’t keep the sorrow from brimming your eyes. “I promise I’ll be back soon, okay?”

You lick your lips, stepping away from the road, “okay.”

Eyes burning with sadness, you watch him roll away with his bike. A determined crease between his brows when he stops to look at you. Yoongi stands a few feet away, reaching out for you but you’re rooted to the spot, wiping away your tears that worsen the longer he stares at you.

Heart skipping a beat, you wrap your arms around Jungkook’s shoulders when he charges toward you, kissing every inch of your skin available to him before holding you impossibly close, mumbling into the crown of your head. You memorize the feel of him in your arms, the thick leather a little frustrating when your hands skate over his back.

“I’ll be back soon,” he chuckles, squishing your cheeks between his calloused palms, “why are you crying so much?”

“I don’t know,” you wail, “I’m just worried.”

“You don’t have to worry. I’ll be back soon. You’re my strong girl, aren’t you?”

Even if you don’t want to do it, the imploring look in his eyes has you nodding.

“Do you trust me?”

“I trust you.”

“Then try not to worry. I’m still with you,” he says after kissing your forehead, holding up the locket around your neck, “stay with Yoongi. He’s gonna take you someplace safe.”

“Okay.”

“I love you,” he grits, pressing your face into his chest, “so fucking much.”

“I love you too.”

As he drives away, you don’t stay to watch him go like you usually do. There’s an unshakable twist in your gut and you don’t know what to do to get rid of it.

It’s not safe in their apartment, Yoongi says. So, as if your belongings weren’t already packed, you cart everything to his van and take the journey to town. Only one man and his promises on your mind.

“Remember what I said about college?”

You hum, watching the trees blur into one big green blob.

“You up for it? Yuri can help you get in.”

“I don’t know. College? I don’t think I’d qualify for a scholarship,” you exhale a dry laugh.

“Who said anything about a scholarship? Check the bag.”

Yoongi wears a smug grin, gesturing to the bag near your foot with his chin. As expected, wads of cash spill from the seams.

“Whe—”

“Jungkook left that for you.”

“Why?”

He laughs in disbelief, “why? What do you mean why?”

Your gaze flits from his face to the bag, the unsettling feeling in your gut only heightening.

“How long will he be gone for?”

Yoongi purses his lips, eyes on the road.

“Yoongi,” you say warily, “how long?”

“Not too long. He just wanted you to be safe.”

You huff, zipping up the bag furiously, “and you think college will be a good idea?”

“Yeah!”

Yoongi goes on and on about the future, about his girlfriend, Yuri. About everything in life but your future with Jungkook. Jungkook. You have so many questions running through your mind that if you close your eyes to keep them away, it only worsens with Jungkook’s sweet face appearing.

Your fingers graze the locket around your neck. His first gift to you. The photo of the two of you from your holiday together fitted in your palm.

As the minutes tick by, Yoongi’s optimism unable to break your shield of grief, you realize that as long as Jungkook is not with you, you’ll have to live with your loneliness.

❝which scene was your favorite? mine was the hospital scene 🥺♡❞ i’m falling hard for this man pretend you didn’t see this

a/n — please, if you liked this drop a like/reblog or an ask so we can chat about it!

⤺masterlist

© aquagustd 2021-2022 do not copy/repost/translate

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #ficscafe #btscreatorscorner #bangtansorciere #btsgoldnet #bangtanbathhouse #bangtanarmynet #btsdreamcourt #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkook x reader #biker jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #bts smut #bangtan smut #jungkook #jeon jungkook

[hummingluke]

i was tagged by @redrattlers​ and @lifewasradical​, thank you! your own lists gave me some new songs to check out and also reminded me of some songs i like that i’d kinda forgotten about! okay so this has the potential to be highly embarrassing but let’s go!!

Rules: hit shuffle on your media player and write down the first 20 songs, then tag 10 people. no skipping!

1. I Think We’re Alone Now - Tiffany (yes this is bc of umbrella academy, anyone else find a lot of new music recs through tv shows?)

2. I Think I’m OKAY - Machine Gun Kelly, YUNGBLUD, Travis Barker (there was a whole week about six months ago when this and SAN MARCOS by Brockhampton were literally the only songs i listened to on repeat)

3. June, After Dark - Elliot Root (THIS IS A HUGE REC i think it’s such a romantic song and the way it ends HITS ME every damn time)

4. Roses - The Chainsmokers (yes i hate the chainsmokers but unfortunately i also have basic taste and think they have some pretty good songs pls don’t cancel me)

5. Broccoli - DRAM, Lil Yachty (lol i haven’t listened to this pretty much since it came out but yeah it’s catchy okay?)

6. Prophet - King Princess (my little sibling introduced me to her, i have to admit i don’t usually seek out her music but i have a lot of it saved in my library and i never skip it when it comes up, so she is definitely a rec!!)

7. Unsteady - X Ambassadors (further proof of my basic-ass taste is that this song almost always makes me cry)

8. In Bloom - Nirvana (i only listen to nirvana when i’m angry lol)

9. Wilson (Expensive Mistakes) - Fall Out Boy (confession: sometimes i forget fob exist even though i LOVE every album of theirs)

10. Shake It Out - Florence + The Machine (queen of giving me chills every. damn. time.)

11. You Can Call Me Al - Paul Simon (graceland will forever be my ultimate roadtrip album bc we used to listen to it every time we went on family vacation. if you haven’t heard this song i HIGHLY RECOMMEND)

12. Red Desert - 5 Seconds of Summer (the relief i felt when this came on, i was starting to worry 5sos wouldn’t show up on this at all haha. my second favourite song of theirs ever (after jbh ofc))

13. Gloom Boys - Waterparks (it is with great shame that i admit i still can’t sing glOOooOOooOOooOOm no matter how much i practice. i just don’t have that kind of vocal control 😭)

14. Saturday Sun - Vance Joy (REC REC REC i can’t tell you how many times i’ve listened to this on repeat for literal hours while i write, and somehow i’m still not over it)

15. Keep On Keeping On - Travie McCoy, Brendon Urie (this is like my go-to hype song, like how can you not feel amazing listening to this? and that guitar solo???)

16. Walking in the Wind - One Direction (not only one of my favourite songs of theirs but one of my favourites of all time, and another one that makes me cry almost every time i listen to it, but in a much better, hopeful way)

17. I Miss Having Sex But At Least I Don’t Wanna Die Anymore - Waterparks (honestly i don’t even listen to waterparks that much so i’m surprised they’ve come up twice lol)

18. Everybody Wants To Rule The World - Tears For Fears (every time i hear this now i think of that video of luke in awe of hearing it live and that makes this song very special to me)

19. Africa - TOTO (i mean, what can i say? iconic.)

20. Electric Love - BØRNS (apparently this is a tik tok song now but i’m pretty sure i first heard it through andy deluca)

i’m not gonna tag anyone directly bc i’m pretty sure most people have already done this, but if you haven’t and you want to please feel free to say i tagged you!! i need more new music recs anyway!

#i was scared lol but this turned out really good! #i like to think i have a fairly eclectic music taste but it definitely revolves mainly around rock #how can you even define rock these days though? wHaT Is GeNrE? #and my taste has definitely been influenced by my mum's favourite bands bc we never listened to top 40's radio when i was growing up #only her record/cd collection #i hope you found at least one new song you like from this list! #luca posts stuff

[balenciagastones]

Which actors are IT for you looks wise

ooooo im probably gonna forget people, ive been watching so many john boyega vids yesterday and today and watched the last jedi again this morning and ive decided im in love w him, quite like tom holland ngl, ben hardy has a special place in my heart, sebastian stan is hot, michael b jordan ofc, hero fiennes tiffin is sexy af, can i class machine gun kelly as an actor lmao IDK

none of these are IT for me, i don’t really have one solid actor celeb crush, just people i find attractive ahaha, john boyega though x

#anon

[creativeashproductions]

Hyde Park // Jughead Jones

Summary: As Archie’s older sister you return to Riverdale amid the closing of the Jason Blossom murder case when tragedy strikes your life. Traumatized you race home from England to the comfort of your Dad’s arms. To think it tragedy would strike again in the Andrews family just weeks are your return.

Characters: Jughead Jones x Andrews!Reader, Archie Andrews, Fred Andrews, Betty Cooper, Veronica Lodge, OFC!Ruth Abbott, and Mary Andrews

Words: 2752

Disclaimer: I do not own Riverdale or the characters. Nor do I own any images, gifs, jokes and lyrics that may appear in this.

Warnings: Swearing, injuries, traumatic event, Riverdale shooting, death (mentioend), fluff and angst

Author: Caitsy

A/N: I really love this one for some reason. Please request more Teen Wolf and Riverdale imagines. Thank you.

Master List

Prompt List

ASK US A QUESTION LIST

Walking towards your seats near the front of the room in the concert area you giggled with the girl beside you. Both with a closed can of alcohol, thank god for the youngest age limit, you were excited for the concert to begin. It was your first in your new home and to have it with the first person you connected with after the flight you were ecstatic.

“Oh my god! I can’t believe we’re seeing this!” Ruth screamed over the music. It was getting you pumped and hearing Ruth’s accent really set into your mind.

“Best way to end the week and our break begins!” You yelled back as the announcer called out the band.

“I hope your pumped London! Give it up for Machine Gun Kelly!” The entire Hype Park area freaked as he walked on stage.

You weren’t crazy obsessed with him but Ruth was a massive fan so when he announced he would be appearing in the small concert you knew you had to come. Getting cheap tickets was easy when you knew the right people.

“We’re going to start with Bad Things!” MGK called out before it began.

Ruth and you abandoned your empty cans on the ground to dance in your area not caring about anything. You weren’t sure how long it was before someone managed to get on stage.

“GET DOWN!” They screamed before a ear bursting loud boom split the area with grass and dirt flying everywhere. The stage crashed from the force, you didn’t know what was up or down but you knew something was wrong. Someone had spilt their beer on you and the glass had hit you because you hurt so much.

“Y/N! Y/N! Y/N WHERE ARE YOU?!” Ruth screamed trying to shove pass people in a fury to move.

You whimpered when you were pushed on to the ground where panicked feet moved different ways. You blacked out when a shoe slammed into your face.

“Archie come here!” Fred Andrews yelled from the living room. His eyes stuck on the tv screen.

“I’m bu-“

“Archibald! NOW.”

The frenzy nearly had Archie fall down the stairs in his hurry to get to his Dad. Archie hadn’t heard his father yell that before. He was unprepared when he found Fred collapsed into a chair with his hands clasped together in front of his face. On the screen was flashing lights and a newscast speaking with a banner going across the bottom.

A Tragedy Has Struck Westminster, London at Hyde Park.

“What’s going on Dad?”

“Call your sister.”

“Dad I’m sure she’s fine. She’s been busy with school.” Archie nervously said biting his lip, “She broke her phone.”

There wasn’t much the Andrews’ men could do as the information came forth.

“Just four short months after a bomb went off at the Manchester Arena another concert tragedy has occurred. In Hyde Park the musician Machine Gun Kelly had a concert when just shy of half way through a bomb was detonated. No information has come forth on the numbers injured and dead but we have facts to believe it’s in the dozens.”

Archie’s hands shook as he struggled to get his phone out of his pocket to call your emergency contact. Ruth Abbott had taken you under her wing when you decided on going to accept Oxford University in England as your choice of education.

The phone rang before it was angrily picked up.

“This isn’t funny.” The voice was deeper.

“Is Ruth there?”

“No. She’s out and this isn’t funny. Stop calling this number.” The man seethed before the call was cut.

“No answer.” Archie murmured looking up.

“Go to school Archie.” Fred groaned looking back up at the tv. The newscaster glanced behind her before returning her eyes to the camera.


“We have a confirmed attendant by the Y/N Andrews safely in one of the houses taking in people for safety.”


Fred and Archie sighed in relief as they each collapsed into a chair no longer anxious if she was dead. Clapping his hand on his father’s should Archie turned to grab his bag.

“However Y/N’s friend Ruth Abbott has been confirmed to be in critical condition at the nearest hospital. We have no information on the suspect.”

“She must be devastated.” Fred sighed shaking head to turn off the tv, “I should get to work. Y/N will call when she can.”

A few weeks passed by with revelations hitting the small town from FP getting arrested being the most talked about. Ms. Grundy leaving town was another but nothing could match when news broke out about London again.

Clueless Archie had opened his locker to grab his textbook not noticing the looks from everyone. He barely noticed when Betty carefully closed his locker to garner his attention.

“Did you finish the biology homework?” He questioned, “The last question has me.”

“Arch.” Betty softly spoke steering her best friend into the Blue and Gold.

“What’s wrong?” Archie asked looking at her.

“Have you looked at the news?” Betty said sitting on her desk. 
“No?”

“It’s bad Archie.” Betty sighed, “You haven’t heard from Y/N because she was in hospital.”


“No she’s safe and can’t call. She’s saving money for a phone.” Archie reaffirmed his feelings on the situation just as Jughead, sitting at his desk in the Blue and Gold, turned his screen.

There on the screen was you with your suitcase he had got your for your eighteenth birthday just a few weeks before you left. You had a high IQ with enough credits to bypass your senior year entirely and get into Oxford University with acceptances from Brown university and Yale.

You were alone in an airport staring blankly as you were shadowed by a man in a uniform until you were out the camera view. You were layered in clothing that you wouldn’t have done previously.

“Archie. She was in a coma for a week with no ID or friends to give her a name. Ultimately she was a Jane Doe until she woke up and she stayed another week due to injuries.”

“They should have known it wasn’t her!” Archie screamed furiously rubbing his eyes.

“Common mistaken identity.” Jughead said, “They both had red hair, brown eyes and Archie it was a complete disaster on the event. They couldn’t focus on Y/N.”

You gasped lurching in your seat as your dream cemented in your mind with Ruth front and centre glaring at you. You saw you were still on the plane heading back to Riverdale with the financial help of Mr and Mrs. Abbott and their healthy bank account. You didn’t want to leave Ruth but you were being forced back to America because the Abbott’s knew you needed to be far from London.

“Thank you for flying with us!”

You brushed your hand over your baggy sweater from the healing wounds were on your body. In the words of Natasha Romanoff in the marvel movies, ‘bye-bye bikinis’ because you certainly wouldn’t show them off.

Mrs. Abbott had insisted on paying for the cab you would take from the airport home because you didn’t remember what your family’s number were at all. You had lost your phone during the bombing and didn’t have the money to get a new one. You were relieved when your childhood home came into your line of sight.

“Thank you.” You mumbled shoving a few bills at the cabbie. He grunted as you dragged your bags to the door. You tiptoed until you felt the spare key on the edge of the doorframe.

“Home sweet home.” You murmured to yourself as you walked into your bedroom still painted the colour to had demanded when you were able to get rid of the pink.

You walked into your bathroom to wash your face but when you looked up you saw a bloodied Ruth instead.

“No. No.” You whimpered scrambling to shove your back against the wall curling in on yourself, “It’s not real.”

With your eyes closed you forgot where you were until you opened your eyes to see the Hyde Park clear as day. You could still smell the scent in the air while Ruth slowly turned her eyes to you.

“It’s your fault.”

“I-I.”

You screamed before opening your eyes and looking down to see blood on your hands from pressing your nails into your skin. You had a long recovery ahead of you. Not trusting yourself to not remember that day you used the bathroom and came out to your dark room. Grabbing your computer you put on your favourite movie.

Time passed before you heard the front door slam open but you heard the deafening sound from the bomb in the park. Pushing yourself off the bed you crawled underneath waiting for the man in your nightmares to appear. Logically you knew he was dead but emotionally you were sure he was terrorizing you.

“Are you sure?” Your Dad, Fred, asked from downstairs.


“I can’t get a hold of anyone. They’re not sure if she got on the plane.” The sweet familiar voice of your mother replied while keys were dropped on the table.

You whimpered feeling that need to be held by your Dad came back strong as it had since you left Riverdale in the first place. You just wanted to feel protected like you always did in his arms growing up.

“Can Sheriff Keller call someone?”

“Archie, Keller doesn’t have any contacts or jurisdiction.” Another voice chimed in, the same voice that caused your heart to race.

You slowly opened the door to walk to the stairs with a slight limp from your left leg you barely even noticed anymore. It was a struggle getting up the stairs initially but you had managed but getting down them would be another one entirely.

The step slightly creaked when you stepped on it causing the entire house to go still. Fred was the first to come around the wall not yet looking up the stairs.

“Daddy?” You sobbed getting his attention.

“Y/N.” Fred yelled racing up the stairs to pull you into a hug, “My baby.”


“I’m scared.” You whimpered the tears fully running down your cheeks.

“I’m here baby.” Your Dad sighed kissing your head as he pulled you in tighter, “I’m never letting you go again.”

Your Dad swept you into his arms to get down the stairs where the three people stood in silent shock.

“You’re alive.” Archie breathed before almost knocking you on the ground, “I thought you were gone.”

You hadn’t felt safe ever since the accident so when your brother and parents hugged you for the first time in months you finally felt safe again. The family reunion was raw with emotion still high from the unknown of everything. Yet at the same time it was palpable with relief at knowing you were out of harms way.

Adjusting back to life post accident was tough with Riverdale all knowing you were back and spreading rumours on your injuries. It ranged from a minor cut to be ghastly third degree burns and a prosthetic leg.

You banned anyone other than your family into the house, even Jughead, because you were disgusted with everything. You couldn’t be around loud sounds without being mentally transported back to Hyde Park and large crowds made you extremely uncomfortable.

“Y/N?” Your Dad said opening the door up, “You okay?”

“I’m fine Dad.” You shifted on your feet.

“Archie and I are going to Pops for breakfast, do you want to come with us?”

“No thank you. I’m not ready yet."

“I have to go to the construction site later but if you want me to stay I can come back from breakfast.”

“I’ll be fine.” You weakly stated moving towards your open bedroom door, “I’ll have to face the town at some point.”

“Take your time.”

You spent your time alone in the house in the kitchen staring in the abyss you called your fridge currently. You wouldn’t mind food from Pops but at the same time you didn’t want to leave the house and face the looks. You were sure things would never get better because you barely slept with the nightmares and not knowing if Ruth was going to be okay or not didn’t help.

You screamed when the front door slammed open before stomping feet thundered in the entry way.

“Shit sorry. I was trying to balance the trays.” Jughead chuckled before seeing your terrified expression, “Shit.”

“I-I’m fine.” You gasped leaning over closing your eyes tight, “You’re in Riverdale. You’re safe. You’re okay.”

“I’m sorry.” Jughead soothed pulling you into his arms. You barely felt the tears falling down your cheeks as you pressed your hands onto his chest to ground yourself.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be the same.” You choked.

“That’s okay.” Jughead murmered into your hair, “I’ll be there when you fall and when you pick yourself up again and again.”

“You shouldn’t. I’m ugly.” You sniffled forcefully pushed back to see his stunned expression.

“You are not ugly.”

“I am. I’m scared physically and emotionally.” You cried trying to escape his warmth.


“So am I.” Jughead sighed, “When the drinking first got bad with Dad he got angry one night. He threw the glass at the wall and I stumbled into it. I’m scarred too.”

“Did he hit you?”

“No.” Jughead quickly shook his head, “My Dad may be an ass but he would never lay a finger on Jellybean or me. Ever.”


“Ruth was excited to see the concert. I was too because I got to see my best friend light up in ways she hadn’t in a long time. When it happened it was blinding both by scent and hearing. I couldn’t see anything and I couldn’t hear anything when it went off. I tried to get away but I fell and then its black.”

“You don’t have to talk about it.” Jughead whispered leaning against the counter with you in his arms.

“It was a nice day out and Ruth was yelling. It was like I was underwater with no escape and I just…I was fucking scared.” You whimpered burrowing further into his arms.

“I won’t let anything hurt you anymore.” Jughead murmured into your ear leading you to sit on the couch. You were surprised at how safe you felt in his arms even if you had heard from your brother that Jughead was a serpent following his father’s arrest and the whole Clifford Blossom being Jason’s murderer.

“Thank you.”

The next hour involved him playing with your hands together and taking your mind off of everything by telling you stories about anything and everything. Things changed when Jughead got a call from changed everything for you. Dad had been shot in a robbery at Pops. You didn’t think when you ran for the door shoving your feet into your abandoned shoes and racing out side, you hesitated when you saw that Jughead had a motorcycle.

You didn’t care. You got on after he did and took off to the odd hospital that had strange uniforms that bordered on past decades. You met with Archie’s other friends Betty and Veronica with their parents before you slammed into Archie’s arms not caring of the blood.

“How is he?” You exclaimed running your eyes over the splotchy red marks staining Archie’s cast, lettermen jacket and his skin.

“I-I don’t know.” Archie whimpered as multiple arms surrounded him. You noticed that Hal and Alice were talking to the reception. You were close to collapsing when Archie whispered exactly what happened and you collapse again feeling as if you were back in Hyde Park again.

Jughead led you to a waiting chair when your leg started hurting more and the movement was starting to really hurt. You leaned down in your chair welcoming when Jughead put his arm you and became your support.

In the time you father was in surgery and then resting in the hospital Jughead and you grew even closer to the point where you silently got together. A bad scenario brought out a relationship you should have expected but didn’t see coming and you were very happy. He stayed when your Dad got out of the hospital, when the Abbott’s called to tell you that Ruth had passed away from her injuries. He was there and you loved him for it.

Forever Tag List

@cityofsobbingfangirls @tas898 @barbidollash @trustnobodyshootfirst @winchesterfanfiction @deanwinchesterisamazing @oh-my-hecky-padalecki @padackles2010 @msimpala67 @deangirl5509 @heyitssilverwolf @therealme13posts @petlaufeyson @professionally-crazed @winterhurricane @tearsandbloodofmyenemies @blackwidow-romanoff @crazybarnes @marvelofcourse @takemetothefictionalworld @destiel67bellarke @ohmy-sammy @fightinthepain @vivabucky @waituntilthedustsettles @daydreaming1393 @cumonbucky @inhumans-of-shield @basicwhiskeyprincesss @soulfull-ofevans @spookass @glitterintheairblog @girl-with-wild-dreams @frickin-bats @darkestgrungeuniverse @shamvictoria11 @buckyappreciationsociety @sammysgirl1997 @fly-f0rever @archer-whovian-violinist @jenn0755 @anamarieswift2194 @unicornofdanger @ifyoudie @jealousbitxh @stormin-thru-glitter @sparklyaura @stilescstilinski @curlyxtomato @katshrev @its-sanaa-k @theoismydad @im-a-light-child @tmriddler @flirtswithdanger @divide-supermarketflowers @arkhamasylumpatient-blog1 @introverted-fandom-human @jennylj16 @potterandbucky @harleenq4life @runs-with-sciss0rs @superhero-lover101 @ridingmoxley

Riverdale Taglist

@n0average @ateliefloresdaprimavera @sgarrett49 @jarchiee @casismyguardianangel @supernovares @juggie-sprouse @an-enigmatic-avenger @leah-khaleesi @rax-writes @shameless-danni @rapunzxl @peetapansneverland @peetapansneverland @sebby-staan @katshrev @zachmantle @30inlovewiththecoco1 @semoremohhh @gilly-grantgustin-the-flash-glee @roses-are-bae @jackyfrost01 @cheytheredhead @my-baby-daryldixon @ladyfairenvale

#riverdale imagines #riverdale #jughead jones #jughead jones imagines #andrews!reader #brother!archie andrews #cole sprouse imagines #cole sprouse #jughead jones x reader #jughead x reader #jughead jones x you #jughead x you #cole sprouse x reader #cole sprouse x you #fred andrews #mary andrews #hal cooper #alice cooper #betty cooper #veronica lodge #hermione lodge #riverdale season 2 #england #fluff #angst #netflix #cw imagines #netflix imagines #cw #agentsofsupernaturalmarvel

[hollywoodxwhore]

Mine | Chapter One

Colson x Original Female Character

A new series for y'all because this man has me on my kneeeeees. No idea how many parts it's going to be.

Synopsis: Presley may look sinful on the outside, but deep down, she's innocent, guarded, and terrified of intimacy. Colson, on the other hand, is living up to his womanizer reputation as a way to cope with heartbreak. When his new guitarist invites his twin sister to join them on tour, Colson discovers that he's actually capable of feeling. Will Presley and Colson be able to push past all of the barriers trying to prevent them from happening?

Chapter One Warnings/Content: swearing, a little bit of smut, col being a cocky fucker

Hope y'all enjoy! I've had so much fun writing this.

Presley

I have a confession to make. 

I was a Machine Gun Kelly hater back in the day. 

It’s true. I believed everything the media said, and why would I have challenged it? From what I knew, his music sucked. He was a total asshole. He was a womanizer. He was a poser who switched genres.

Looking back, I’m ashamed of myself for being a follower. I wasted a lot of time judging someone I didn’t know. 

I would probably still be a hater if it wasn’t for my twin brother, Cash. 

Cash and I were raised by music-loving parents (if you couldn’t tell by our names). We grew up playing instruments and going to shows. Cash and I got our first tattoos on our 16th birthday, and by the time we were 19, I already had a full sleeve and Cash had a neck tat. We’ve continued to collect ink ever since, and now that we’re 23, we’re both pretty covered. 

We have an impressive collection of piercings, too. We both have our nostrils pierced, though he wears two rings and I wear a stud because of my septum piercing. Cash’s lip is pierced and both of our ears are full of piercings. I have my belly button and nipples. It’s been fun growing up with such accepting parents. 

We’ve both spent lots of time pursuing art in some way or another. I play guitar and sing in a few local bands, but it’s nothing serious. I prefer body art, and that’s why I’m a piercer. I pierce at a tattoo shop in the city and make bank. People in this hipster city love their piercings. 

Cash and I are best friends. We run in the same friend group and spend a lot of time together. We had our rows as kids, but we’ve always gotten along and been super close. So when he got the opportunity of a lifetime, I was hugely supportive, even though it broke me knowing I wouldn’t be able to see him every day anymore. 

About six months ago, someone reached out to Cash through his Instagram. He has tons of followers and he’s a super talented guitarist. The guy who messaged Cash happened to be none other than Machine Gun Kelly himself. He wanted Cash to be a part of their band and tour with them. 

We were sure it was a hoax, even though it was his official account messaging Cash. We thought it was too good to be true until Colson — MGK’s real name, by the way — passed Cash’s number to his management, and the very next day, Cash had a Zoom meeting set up to meet with Colson and management.

Cash was so serious about it that he wouldn’t let me sit in on the meeting, no matter how silent I promised to be and no matter how many times I assured him that I wouldn’t be on camera. I had to settle for listening through the door. I couldn’t hear much, but I knew it was a positive meeting. 

13 days later, Cash packed his stuff and flew to LA to meet up with the band. The band itself is called Machine Gun Kelly, even though the lead singer/rapper goes by that name. It doesn’t make much sense to me, but whatever. 

As soon as Cash was gone and I found myself lonely as hell, I decided to check out MGK’s music. The longer I sat and listened, the more pissed off I became with myself for having deprived myself of such good music for so long. I started with Tickets to My Downfall and then got hooked on Hotel Diablo. I ventured to Bloom, Lace Up, General Admission, and then onto songs you could only find on YouTube. 

Bottom line: I was obsessed. 

Well, let’s not get dramatic. I fell in love with the music and developed a crush on the very man I’d hated just a month before. And I felt like an asshole for it. I still do. 

I miss Cash a ton. But his life is amazing now. He’s traveling with a hugely famous band, gaining followers every single show, and better yet, he gets along with the guys great. There’s Colson, of course, and then Rook, the drummer. Baze plays the bass and Slim does a lot of keyboard and sound stuff. Justin plays guitar alongside Cash, and Colson plays, too. They party a ton, but they also go out to eat, take trips together, and hang out constantly. I’ve never heard Cash so happy when we talk on the phone. 

I’ve had a shitty day. Clients were dicks, especially the guy who wanted a Prince Albert and got a little excited during the piercing process. If that wasn’t bad enough, he hit on me before one of my tattoo artists came in and dragged him out of the shop. The encounter left me feeling shaky, and by the time I get into my apartment, my hands are a trembling mess. 

I sigh and toss my keys into their designated bowl, then kick off my Doc Martens, trudging to the kitchen. I grab a Mountain Dew from the fridge and find my weed pen on the counter, taking a long pull until I cough out a huge puff. I’ll feel better very soon. 

After changing into comfortable clothes and washing off my makeup, my black hair tossed into a bun, I curl up on the couch with a stupid scary movie. Almost immediately, my phone lights up with a FaceTime from Cash.

I answer the call and there’s his grinning face. I don’t think we look much alike. I have my mom’s raven hair and he has our dad’s blonde curls that he wears long on top and short on the sides and in back. My jade green eyes are the opposite of his chocolaty brown ones, so dark they’re almost black. We do have the same dimples, though.

“Hey, Cash,” I greet.

“Pres!” He says happily, and I can’t help but smile. “You good, sis?”

I shrug, smiling weakly. “Rough day at work.”

Normally he’d ask, but he’s clearly not calling to chat. He has news. I can see the excitement all over his face. “Fuck that,” he says. “Can you take some time off?”

My brow arches. “For what?”

“I want you to come visit!” He says. “Ride on the tour bus with us. Come to a few shows. I miss you and everyone wants to meet you.”

My stomach flips. “Wait, seriously?” I ask warily. “The band and management are okay with this?”

“Kells suggested it!” Cash replies, eyes wide with joy. Kells — MGK, Colson. A man of many names, apparently. 

I’m still skeptical. “I don’t want to impose,” I say. I’m not fun enough to hang with them. It may appear that way based on my career and the fact that I play live music, but I’m boring. All I want to do is smoke weed and maybe go out to eat. I don’t really like to drink and big crowds make me anxious. 

“You wouldn’t, I swear,” Cash continues, still trying to convince me. 

“Cash…” I bite down on my lip. “I don’t know.”

Cash turns his head and talks to someone but I miss what he says. My brow furrows, and then the phone is being passed. I swear to god I stop breathing when my brother’s face disappears and Colson’s takes its place.

God. This man has no business being as hot as he is. His bone structure is unreal. In another life, he could be a successful model. He’s got the height and the body for it. Covered in tattoos and piercings, he matches my vibe. His hair is bleach blonde and messy, currently, so long it almost covers his eyes until he flicks it away and pushes it back, rings glinting on his long fingers. Christ.

“Hey, Presley,” he greets like we’re old friends.”

“Um, hi,” I say after a moment. How could Cash just throw me onto FaceTime with Colson fucking Baker?! Cash doesn’t know about my crush, but still, he’s a big celebrity. I needed more time to prepare.

“What Cash isn’t saying is that it’s non-negotiable. You’re coming,” he says casually. “We’re going to be in Detroit next Saturday and you can just join us then.” 

“My job—”

“Cash already told me it’s easy for you to take time off,” Colson interrupts. Dammit, Cash.

“Well, tell Cash that not all of us are famous rockstars like he is and that some of us still have rent to pay,” I say, loud enough for Cash to hear.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Colson says. “Cash already paid for your next three months’ rent.”

I blink. “Cash David Carver,” I say, tone clipped. “What the hell?”

Cash’s face pops in as he throws an arm around Colson’s shoulders with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Gotta take care of my little sister,” he explains.

“You’re 12 minutes older than me,” I say through gritted teeth. 

“Still,” Cash says annoyingly. “Come on, Pres, come see me.”

I sigh. I don’t have to worry about rent for three months. Cash was right, it’s easy to take time off. It means the other piercer gets way more hours and makes more money. I’ve been there for long enough that I can do pretty much whatever I want. I chew on my lip.

“Fine,” I say, and Cash cheers. Colson smiles, and fuck, what an adorable smile. Crinkly eyes and all. 

“We’ll see you next Saturday,” Cash says. “Maybe get a friend to drive you. We’ll get you both backstage passes and tickets for the show.”

Holy hell.

“Okay,” I say, head still spinning. I can’t even believe this is real.

“Alright, we gotta go. Love you, Pres,” Cash says.

“Looking forward to meeting you,” Colson says.

“Yeah, me too,” I say. “Love you, too, Cashy. See you soon.”

The FaceTime ends and I’m left sitting on my couch, knowing that in less than two weeks, I’ll be riding on Machine Gun Kelly’s tour bus. I’ll be at shows. It occurs to me that my wardrobe is not good for the paparazzi pictures in which I very well may appear. 

I need to go shopping. 

I need to mentally prepare.

Somehow. 

Colson

“Daddy!” Her voice is almost a shriek and I smirk around the gum in my mouth as I go harder, bringing a hand down onto her ass as I do. God, she sounds like a fucking pornstar, the way she’s moaning and crying over my dick. I’m sure some of it is for show, but the way she’s clenching ain’t fake. 

“Fuck,” I mutter lowly, grabbing her hips for leverage as I fuck her harder, feeling myself start to get close. 

“Oh fuck, Kells!” Her back arches and her pussy seizes me as she comes, ass pressing back. Feeling her lose it gets me, too, and with a curse, I come, too. 

Once I catch my breath, I pull out and get rid of the condom. Panting, she pulls her panties back up and shoves her skirt down. She tries to fix her hair, but it’s a damn mess, and there’s mascara smeared on her cheek and her lipstick is pretty much everywhere but her lips. It’s definitely on my dick, that I know for sure. 

I button my jeans and smirk at her, reaching a hand out to help her up. She smiles shyly and I lead the way out of my bunk and into the main space of the tour bus. 

“We gotta take off soon,” I explain, bending to kiss her cheek. “It’s been fun, Sabrina.”

Her blonde brows furrow. “Savannah,” she says flatly.

“Shit. Sorry,” I say, giving her my brightest smile. It works. She smiles, too, batting her eyelashes.

“Goodnight, Kells,” she says, fluttering her fingers in a wave as she steps off the bus.

“Goddamn, aren’t you tired?” I turn around to see Cash and Rook on the couch, grinning proudly. Cash’s question has me considering.

“Yeah. I am,” I admit, reaching into the mini fridge for a bottle of water. I plop into one of the cushy chairs and prop my feet on the table. “That’s life, though, boys.”

Rook snorts and Cash smirks as he takes a sip of his beer. I love the kid. I’m glad he’s on tour with us. He’s fucking sick on the guitar and he gets along great with all of us. He’s always down for a good time and he’s a great wingman. I think it’s those damn dimples and the curly blonde hair. 

My mind flashes to Cash’s twin sister, Presley. From what I’ve seen in pictures, she looks nothing like Cash. Her hair is black and her eyes are a piercing green. She’s tatted and pierced like him, and though she’s not as tall as he is at 6’2”, she still has legs that go on for miles. She’s hot as fuck, and I’m excited she’s going to be joining the tour for a bit.

As if Cash is reading my mind, he brings her up. “I can’t wait for Pres to join us. She’s my best fucking friend, man.”

“I can’t imagine having a sister,” I say. “Especially a twin.”

“Is that telepathy shit legit?” Rook asks between puffs off a joint. 

Cash plucks the joint from his fingers and takes a long drag before passing it to me. The smoke is sweet as it fills my lungs, and I follow up the first hit with another until my head tingles. 

“Yeah,” he admits, nodding. “I got in a car crash when we were in high school. Broke my leg and needed stitches in my forehead. Presley had no idea but she left school with a raging headache and a limp.”

“No fucking way,” I say. “Seriously?”

“It’s crazy,” he says. “That’s kind of why I’m glad she’s coming. I can tell she’s not doing so hot.”

I frown, not liking the way his words make my stomach hurt a little. I don’t even know this chick. I shouldn’t really care. But she’s my friend’s sister, so I guess it makes sense. “What’s wrong? Shitty boyfriend?” I ask.

Cash barks such a loud laugh that Rook and I both freeze, looking at him like he’s crazy. “Sorry,” he says, chuckling and shaking his head. “Pres has never had a boyfriend.”

“How?” I blurt before I can stop myself. I clear my throat. “I mean, she’s hot. Respectfully,” I add.

Cash chuckles. “Guys want her. They’re all over her,” he says, and I notice the way his hand tightens protectively on the armrest. “She doesn’t want any of them. We tell each other everything, but she doesn’t date. Dunno why.”

“Hm,” I reply. Interesting. I don’t date either, but I do fuck. Maybe his sister is the same way. Good news for me, if so. 

“So on that note,” Cash says. “She’s off limits. No hitting on my sister.”

I’m visibly disappointed and Cash narrows his eyes at me. “I mean it, Kells.”

I hold up my hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Loud and clear.”

“But what if she hits on me first,” Rook asks, and when Cash swats him, he cackles. 

I sit back in the chair and take another drag off the joint. What’s the point of Cash’s sexy ass sister coming on tour if I can’t touch her? I have a feeling she’s even hotter in person. Oh well. I’ll have to deal with it. Cash is my boy and I’ll respect his wishes. 

It might be a little cocky to think she’d want me back if I made a move, but I haven’t been rejected since high school. It doesn’t happen when you’re at the place I am. Hell, I don’t even have to ask anymore. Girls, quite literally, throw themselves at me, along with their panties, bras, and even a vibrator one time. That was an interesting show. Funny as fuck watching Reed pluck it off the stage. 

I hear what Cash says, but there’s some weight to what Rook said, too. What if she wants me? Am I expected to reject her? Shit, I won’t be doing that. We’ll just have to see what happens.

XX

Our Detroit show comes on fast. It’s been a crazy week, and to be honest, I haven’t been thinking about Cash’s sister at all. There are plenty of other girls to keep me occupied. 

So when I’m backstage smoking a joint and Cash walks back with a couple of girls, I’m intrigued. I get up from the chair I’m in, but as I get closer, I recognize her. Cash’s sister. And fuck if she doesn’t take my breath away, as stupid as that sounds. 

Because holy shit. When I say Presley Carver is the most stunning woman I’ve ever seen, I’m not lying. Pictures don’t do this girl justice, and her pictures are pretty damn hot. There are those gorgeous legs beneath a short leather skirt. A tiny sliver of tanned stomach is visible beneath her shirt, a simple t-shirt tied in a knot at the bottom. Black, leather boots with a heel, making those legs even longer. Her hair is left down and straight, and I can see the green of her eyes from twenty feet away.

I basically tuck my tongue back into my mouth before snuffing the joint out and going over to say hi like a gentleman. The three of them are chatting with Ashleigh and Olivia, but Presley looks up as I come over, and for the few seconds that our eyes are locked on one another, I feel a bolt of electricity shock through me. She blinks and looks away, but there’s a little smirk on her face. 

“Cash, gonna introduce me?” I ask, putting a hand to Cash’s shoulder.

“Yeah, Kells, this is my sister, Presley,” he says.

“Nice to meet you,” Presley says, holding out a hand.

I smirk and step forward to hug her instead. “Nah, fuck that, we hug around here,” I say, noticing the way her head tucks into my neck, inhaling the smell radiating from her hair — something sweet and sugary. She smells like fucking candy and for a second, I can’t help but wonder what she tastes like.

As I pull away, Cash gives me a warning glance, but I just smile. “And this is her friend, Sadie.”

“Hi Sadie,” I say, hugging her as well. She’s cute, but she isn’t Presley Carver. No one is.

“Thanks again for being so generous,” Presley says. God, her voice is hot, too. Sultry and low, slightly raspy. She sounds like she’d be one hell of a singer. 

“No problem,” I say. “Make yourselves at home.” I need to finish my joint and take a piss before I get out onstage, and as much as I want to stay here and stare, I have shit to do. I wave and walk away. I glance over my shoulder after a few seconds and catch Presley staring. She jumps a little and immediately focuses on what Cash is saying, but she looks flustered. I notice the shape of her long black nails as she tucks her hair behind her ear and I shiver. Focus, Colson. You have a show to do.

But somehow knowing Presley is watching makes me go harder. Makes me take my shirt off and put on a good show of thrusting at my guitar. I drag my fingers down my body, grab my cock over my pants. Old Colson is coming out. The kid who used to suck tits onstage. I hadn’t realized how much I missed him. He was fun. I stopped acting that way when I met…never mind. 

I like that this girl is making me find my old self onstage. I completely give into it, and it’s my best show of the entire tour. Detroit is lucky Presley Carver is in their presence. 

After the show, I chug a full bottle of water, accepting daps and high fives and hugs backstage. I hate how my eyes are searching for her. Cash was very clear — hands off his sister. Which is such a dick move. Has he seen his sister? I mean, I know that’s his sister but he’s not blind. Right?

“Great show.” I jump a little when I hear that slightly raspy voice behind me, and when I turn around, my breath hitches. She looks even better a little sweaty from the show, black hair slightly mussed up. 

I clear my throat and put on a smirk to hide how flustered this girl has me. “Thanks. You had fun?”

“Oh, yeah,” she says, her eyes bright. “You guys put on a good show.”

I mop my face with my sweaty t-shirt and flick my hair out of my eyes. “Did you sing along to any songs?” I ask, my not-so-subtle way of figuring out whether or not she knows our music. 

Her grin is a little sly. “Maybe,” she says with a little shrug. 

My brow arches. “C’mon, you’re gonna leave a guy hanging?” I ask. I really want to know if she actually likes my music.

“Pres, quit acting mysterious,” Cash says when he steps up beside me, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “She listens to your shit. She knows all the words.”

“Cash!” Presley hisses, giving him a look. 

“What?” Cash blanches. “It’s true!” He turns to me. “As soon as I joined y’all she started listening.”

“So you didn’t listen before we kidnapped Cash?” I ask. For some reason, I like that she hasn’t always been a fan. 

She shrugs. “Not really.” Now she looks a little sheepish. “I was missing out, though.”

“You should've heard the shit she said about you when Killshot came out,” Cash adds, and when Presley stomps on his toe, he yelps. “Ow, what the fuck!”

“Cash, you’re such a dick,” she groans. She looks up at me and smiles weakly. “He’s exaggerating.”

I’m amused as fuck. All I can do is laugh. I don’t give a fuck whose side she was on when that all went down. She’s backstage at my show now, and I saw the way she looked at me earlier. She’s into me. There’s no way she’s not.

“I’m gonna go find a bathroom,” Presley mutters, shooting one last glare at Cash before she turns on her heel and stomps away. And maybe my eyes fall on her ass, the way her waist curves out into smooth hips. Cash elbows me, and now it’s my turn to yelp.

“C’mon, I was just looking!” I insist.

“Yeah, looking at my sister like you want to fuck her,” Cash says, but he’s still grinning a little. The smile fades and he clears his throat. “Look. She’s a good girl.”

A quick burst of irritation blooms in my chest. “Are you saying I’m a bad guy?”

“No!” Cash insists, eyes widening. “Not at all. She just…she’s different, Kells. And she’s my sister. I don’t want anyone taking advantage of her.”

“Taking advantage?” I blurt in outrage.

“No, Kells I — fuck.” Cash tears his hands through his messy hair. “Please.”

I sigh, the fight going out of me, and nod. “I won’t do anything,” I mutter.

“You promise?” The kid asks.

I have half a mind to make fun of him for the juvenile ass question, but I just nod. “Promise,” I sigh. Cash relaxes after that and he claps me on the back before jogging away to find some of the other guys. 

I’m annoyed now. I want a shower and something to eat. And my dick is a little bit hard in my jeans. I shift and then walk stiffly outside to the tour bus. 

Sure enough, a group of girls squeals when I come outside. They’re hanging near the tour bus and I quickly scan the group for the hottest one. There’s a cute brunette and I decide she’s the one. I approach the fence and reach for her hand. Her eyes twinkle. 

“You busy right now?” I ask.

She looks to her friend whose eyes are bugging out of her head. “Nope,” she says. 

I smirk. This will be a good distraction. Just what I need.

#colson baker #machine gun kelly #mgk #colson baker fanfic #machine gun kelly fanfic #mgk fanfic #colson baker smut #machine gun kelly smut #mgk smut #colson baker x ofc #colson x ofc #mgk x ofc #machine gun kelly x ofc

[hollywoodxwhore]

Mine | Chapter Eight

Colson x Original Female Character

Synopsis: Presley may look sinful on the outside, but deep down, she's innocent, guarded, and terrified of intimacy. Colson, on the other hand, is living up to his womanizer reputation as a way to cope with heartbreak. When his new guitarist invites his twin sister to join them on tour, Colson discovers that he's actually capable of feeling. Will Presley and Colson be able to push past all of the barriers trying to prevent them from happening?

Warnings/Content: Smut (18+), swearing, presley being obsessed with col's cute butt, talking about fEeLiNgS, oral sex (m/f receiving)

Now that the smut is arrived, it's not going anywhere. Sorry not sorry.

Presley

“Presley. Hey. Pres?” 

The voice is wavy and dreamy, but it becomes clearer as I wake up. I open one eye and look at Colson, the source of the voice. “Hm?” I reply, rubbing my eyes. “What time is it?”

“Six,” Colson says.

“Six?” I reply, lifting my head. “Why are you waking me up?”

He shrugs, smiling sheepishly. He’s lying on his side facing me, still naked. I shiver a little when I remember what he did to me before we fell asleep. It’s enough to bring a wave of desire right back into my stomach. 

“I missed you,” he says quietly. 

Well, that melts me. I can’t help but smile and shake my head. “I’m right here,” I say. 

“Not close enough,” he replies, pulling me close. I’m still naked, too, and I’m not scared or shy or ashamed. Being vulnerable with Colson feels easy. 

He strokes my hair gently and kisses my forehead. “So, you made me jealous earlier,” he says.

“When?” I ask, looking up at him.

“When you got into that clearly two-person jacuzzi without me,” he says.

“To be fair,” I say, “I was pissed at you then, and you hadn’t seen me naked yet.”

“Are you still pissed at me?”

“No.”

“Have I seen you naked?”

“You currently are.”

“Then can we get in the jacuzzi?”

I roll my eyes but I’m grinning. “Come on.” 

Colson is like a kid, hopping out of bed and loping into the bathroom. He returns with two fluffy towels and leads the way outside. I shiver when we step outside, even though it’s already pretty warm. My eyes land on Colson when he bends over to start the tub, and I hold back a snicker. He has no ass. But it’s cute. 

He glares at me over his shoulder. “Hey. What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” I say, smiling innocently. “You just have a really cute butt.”

He snorts. “What butt? I don’t have one,” he says. 

“It’s still cute,” I say. He stands up and I walk over, wrapping my arms around his waist. He hugs me and looks down at me, and I let my hands drift to his ass, giving it a little squeeze. My brow arches. “Oh, wait, there might be a little somethin’ back there.”

Colson’s brows raise and he grins widely. “Oh yeah? You think?”

I nod. “Mhmm.” I continue to squeeze his ass and he presses his lips together.

“You tryna turn me on?” he asks tightly.

“Maybe,” I say coyly, blinking up at him.

He groans softly and bends to kiss me. “You’re going to be the death of me, Presley Carver.”

“And you’re going to be the death of me, Colson Baker.” 

He grins and lets go of me long enough to climb into the tub, opening his arms for me. I slide into the hot water with a sigh and rest my back against his chest, tipping my head back onto his shoulder. He gathers my hair and pulls it aside so it doesn’t get wet. Then, his arms slide around my waist and I relax. 

“Hey Pres?”

“Hm?”

“Are you going to talk to Cash?”

“Hell yeah.” Colson starts to drum his fingers nervously on my thigh. “Col, it’s okay,” I assure him.

“But what if he decides he doesn’t want to tour with me or be a part of all of this anymore?” he asks, and there’s real concern in his voice.

I consider this. As much as I want to yell at Cash, he’s the most stubborn person I know. He would totally pull a move like that and I don’t want anyone getting fucked over because Cash is too protective of me. 

“So what do I do?” I ask quietly.

Colson is silent. “Maybe…we tell him when the tour is over?” 

I blink. I hate the idea of keeping things from Cash, and I really despise the idea of hiding whatever this is that we’re doing. Now that Colson has touched me, all I want to do is keep touching him. I’m not sure if he’s a PDA guy, but I want to hold his hand and hug him and kiss him in public and jump into his arms when he comes off the stage sweaty from a show. I would have to pretend that I don’t have feelings for him until we’re behind closed doors. 

That would be difficult.

But Cash abandoning the tour would be worse.

“Okay,” I say finally. “I’ll wait until we’re done touring.”

“You sure you’re okay with that?” Colson asks. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m hiding you.”

“What are we doing, Colson?” I ask. “What is this?”

Colson rests his chin on my shoulder. “A relationship. Or it will be soon, hopefully.” His voice is quiet, almost timid. I’m not sure many people have seen Colson like this, lacking confidence. 

“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” I ask.

“Yes,” he answers immediately. “I really like you, Pres.” I bite back a smile. “I don’t want anyone else. I just want you.” He presses a kiss to my shoulder. “Are you ready for that?”

“It’s still a little scary,” I confess. “I don’t know what our future holds, you know? With your job and my life. But we don’t need to figure that out right now.”

“No, we don’t,” Colson agrees.

“I’m…I really like you, too, Col,” I assure him. “I want a relationship, too.”

“We’re just going to have to be careful until the tour ends,” he says. “We’ll take advantage of the time we have together here.”

“We can keep manipulating it in our favor,” I say. “I’ll keep rooming with Liv and you keep rooming with Cash and they’ll keep wanting to switch.”

“Good idea,” he says. 

“We’ll figure it out,” I tell him.

“Yeah,” he says, kissing my neck. “We will.”

I shiver and close my eyes, and my chest squeezes. “Col…”

“What’s wrong?” he asks, lifting his head to meet my eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m scared of how attached I am to you already,” I admit, a little embarrassed. I know guys don’t want to be with virgins for this very reason. “Does that bother you?”

Colson considers this. “No. I like it,” he says. “I feel pretty possessive over you. Does that bother you?”

“No,” I say decidedly. “I like it.”

“Good. Then we’re fine,” he says. And then, his hands start to wander.

First, they drift down my waist and then smooth over my thighs. He traces a finger up the middle of my stomach and I close my eyes, letting out a breath. It’s crazy how easily he can turn me on. Subtly, I press my thighs together and squeeze.

As Colson’s lips find my neck and suck gently, delicate fingers trace my nipples and I whine softly, tensing up. “Is this okay?” Colson practically purrs in my ear and I shiver, nodding as his lips continue to find all of the sensitive spots on my neck. “Mm. Good.” 

Perfect teeth sink gently into my neck just as he pinches my nipples lightly between his fingers and thumbs. I suck in a breath as pleasure rushes through me, my toes curling slightly in the water. “Col,” I breathe, tilting my head to the side in silent encouragement for him to keep going. 

“Are they more sensitive now that they’re pierced?” he murmurs.

“Fuck yes,” I gasp. Jesus. I’m sensitive all over. I had no idea that it would be like this. Of course I’ve touched myself before, but that’s all about the end goal, not the journey. I know exactly what works for me to the point to where it’s almost automatic. I couldn’t have ever dreamed that being touched by someone else, someone I want, could feel this good.

“Let’s get out. I need to make you come again,” he says huskily, and I feel my body react to his words. I scramble to get out of the tub and Colson chuckles, low and cocky, and when I look at him, he’s smirking. 

Inside, we dry off as quickly as we can, and then Colson has me sitting on the edge of the bed. “Lay back,” he demands. I do as I’m told and then he grips my hips, yanking me to the very edge of the bed. My breath catches in my throat at his strength, and as he drops to his knees, my eyes widen. He notices my apprehension and pauses, hands on my thighs. “Is this okay, baby?”

“Wh-what are you planning on doing?” I ask, going up on my elbows to watch him.

The way Colson licks his lips makes it pretty clear what he’s planning on doing to me. He’s looking at me like I’m his favorite meal. “Been dying to taste you since I met you,” he confesses, eyes dark when they land on mine. “But if you’re not comfortable with that…”

I chew on my lip. This is so much more intimate than his hand. This is his mouth we’re talking about. What if he doesn’t like the taste? What if I lose my mind with pleasure and have no control over my body? 

“Baby,” Colson says, breaking me from my thoughts. “Please don’t be nervous. I love giving head. Trust me. I’m going to love it even more with you.”

“If you really want to,” I say. I can’t help but be intrigued. Women in porn act like this is the greatest sensation they’ve ever felt. I want to see if that’s all for show or if it’s real. I nod. “Okay. Yes.”

“You sure?” he asks, but he’s already lifting my legs so that my heels rest on the bed, spreading me open for him. 

“Yes,” I breathe, feeling vulnerable and a little scared, but I trust him fully. 

Colson smirks at me – god, he looks so cocky and it’s so fucking hot – and then his eyes drift from my face to place where I’m already soaked between my legs. It doesn’t take much for him to get me wet. That I’m learning quickly. He licks his lips again, and then he leans in, dragging his tongue in an exploratory swipe from my entrance up to my clit. My entire body seizes up at the sensation, especially when the hot, wet tip of his tongue brushes my most sensitive spot.

He does it again a few more times, and then he seals his lips around my clit. His tongue rolls over my sensitive spot and he sucks a little, and I throw my head back and arch off the bed. “Holy fuck,” I gasp, feeling like I’ve just touched a live wire. Within seconds, my entire body is tingling. Oh god. Porn didn’t lie about this one. This is, quite literally, the best thing I’ve ever felt. I already don’t want it to end and he’s just begun.

“More, Col, please,” I beg, pushing a hand into his hair. “Feels so good, baby.”

Colson moans against me and his dark eyes lock on mine as he releases my clit in favor of fluttering his tongue lightly against it. It’s such a teasing movement that my hips twitch, seeking more, and I whimper helplessly. I can’t take my eyes off of him.

“Presley,” Colson rasps, leaving an open-mouthed kiss on me. “Pres, god, you taste like fucking candy. Holy shit.”

I know he’s exaggerating. That’s not possible, of course, but it does wonders for my confidence, and I fully relax into the sensations. And Colson isn’t shy about it at all. His fingertips dig into the flesh of my ass and hips as he presses his face into me again, moaning in pleasure. “Oh god!” I gasp as my stomach tenses. 

Colson licks and sucks me for a few more minutes, and then he pulls back, rubbing my clit with three fingers as he watches me. His mouth is slightly open and I flash back to the night I walked in on him. It’s the same face I saw then but even hotter because I’m the one causing that look. My breath comes out in gasps as I watch him.

“Baby, can I try something else?” he asks. “Can I put my fingers inside you? Please?”

My stomach tightens with desire and I nod. “Y-yes, of course, anything,” I say quickly, and I mean it. I trust him so completely that he could do just about anything to me right now.

“Fuck,” he growls, and as his mouth reclaims its place on my clit, I feel one of his thick fingers start to slide into me. It’s a weird sensation at first; I never put anything inside me when I get myself off. I keep it all on the outside. But slowly, he starts to pump his finger, and every time he pumps in, I clench around him unintentionally. He’s found that spot everyone talks about without much effort at all. It makes sense; his fingers are long.

The next time he pumps his finger in, he crooks it slightly, and I let out a choked gasp when I feel him rub against my g-spot. Holy hell. The combination of his mouth assaulting my clit and his fingertip rubbing against my spot has me almost convulsing. But I desperately want him to keep going, so I plead. “Don’t stop, Col,” I cry. “That feels so good, oh my god–”

Colson moans in response and when he slides his middle finger back inside of me, his ring finger has joined, and although his fingers are thick, it doesn’t hurt. It just intensifies the pleasure and the pressure on my spot. I’m seriously near tears with pleasure at this point, and I want it to keep going forever, but I also want to come so, so badly. I could come from his mouth alone, but paired with his fingers? I’m going to explode. 

His fingers are relentless against my g-spot and his tongue knows exactly what it’s doing with my clit, and my entire body is rigid and shaking. I feel myself start to flutter around him, a distinct warning of my impending orgasm. “Col,” I cry out, “coming–”

That’s all I can say because I’m seeing stars. The first time I ever had an orgasm, I thought that nothing in the world could ever feel better. But this orgasm? This orgasm is ten times stronger, ten times better than any other one I’ve had. This one shocks me from head to curling toes, my body wracking with the pleasure of it. I barely recognize my own voice as I let out high-pitched whines and cries and curses as I writhe against his face. My hips jerk and buck wildly until finally, pleasure melts into overstimulation.

“Cols,” I say breathlessly, tugging his hair to pull him away, and he immediately does, sliding his fingers carefully out of me and lifting his head. He looks up at me and his lips are so red and shiny and his fingers are soaked and that was me, I did that, and I should maybe be embarrassed but I’m not. I’m losing my mind because I didn’t know sensations like that existed. “Jesus fuck. Oh my god,” I pant, collaposing onto my back.

Colson chuckles and stands, and that’s when I see it: his dick, long and thick and so hard, the tip red and dripping. My eyes widen. I always thought I’d be scared of penises, as stupid as that sounds, but looking at Colson now, my mouth is watering. “Col,” I say quietly, voice raspy from crying out. 

“Mm?” Colson watches me as he curls his long fingers around his dick, giving it a slow stroke. I watch, mesmerized, as he smears my orgasm from his fingers onto his dick. 

“Can I have a turn?” I ask. His brow furrows for just a second but when he realizes what he’s asking, I can visibly see his knees weaken.

“Fuck, are you sure?” he asks. “I’m good.” He shakes his head. “Don’t feel obligated.”

“I don’t,” I say, reaching for his hips. He steps closer to me and lets go of his dick so I can take it in my hand instead. It’s a strange feeling, hard yet soft and pliant at the same time. Experimentally, I graze my thumb over the red tip and Colson hisses, his hips jerking forward. I look up at him quickly.

“S’okay,” he rasps, wetting his lips. “The head is just sensitive.”

I nod and look down at him again, taking my time working my hand up and down his shaft. Then, I push him back slightly and sink to my knees. “Oh Jesus,” Colson mutters, long fingers weaving into my hair. 

“Col,” I say, looking up at him. He swallows hard and looks into my eyes. “Will you help me?”

“Shit, baby, of course,” he says, sliding his hand to the back of my head. “Just taste me first. Put your tongue on the tip.” 

I nod and do as I’m told, dragging the flat of my tongue over that wet, red tip, gathering his pre-cum into my mouth. It’s salty which is off-putting at first, but I don’t mind it. This is Colson. I’m going to love however he tastes and feels. 

Colson curses. “Yeah, that’s it,” he praises. “Now put your lips around the tip.” I follow that direction, too, wrapping my lips around him, and he moans. God, I want to keep making him moan. I’ve never heard anything so sexy in my life. 

Slowly, I start to bob my head, going no further than just a few inches. He has many of those, so I know I need to take it slow. I don’t have a particularly bad gag reflex, but I know I can’t fit nine inches of thick cock in my mouth. I’m surprised at how naturally it comes to me, but I wrap my hand around the inches I can’t fit. The more I bob my head, the wetter his dick gets, and I use that as lubricant so my hand glides easier. 

Colson is in absolute heaven above me. His knees keep buckling and his hand tightens in my hair every so often. I can feel him trembling, and his sounds are frequent and perfect. I fucking love giving head. I fucking love giving Colson head. I’ve never felt so damn powerful. 

With that burst of courage, I take him deeper so his tip grazes my throat, but I don’t choke. I like it, like the way my jaw feels a little strained. The moan that falls from Colson’s lips is tortured, and he spills a little more pre-cum into my mouth. “Shit, baby, shit,” he pants. “I’m not gonna last, I’m s-sorry…”

I moan around him, wordlessly telling him that he doesn’t have anything to be sorry for, and I suck just a little bit harder. He must be getting close, because he’s shaking harder and his fingers are twitching against my scalp. His dick throbs a little and suddenly, he tugs at my hair more sharply. “Pres, I’m gonna come,” he gasps. “Baby, if you don’t want me to come in your mouth, y-you need to, ah shit–”

Hell no. I’m going all the way. I’ve committed to this and I want every perfect second of the experience. I want him to come in my mouth, want to swallow him down and taste every drop of him, and god, I feel filthy, but I fucking love it. So with my free hand, I reach around to grab his ass, keeping him tight against my mouth.

“Oh shit, I’m coming–” His voice breaks and he sucks in a breath as his fingers tighten in my hair. His hips jerk forward and his cum spills into my mouth, hot and salty but perfect, and I don’t struggle at all to swallow it down. I take everything he gives me and when he pulls himself from my mouth, I swirl my tongue over his tip to make sure I get every single drop. Colson is staring down at me like he can’t believe I’m real, and now it’s my turn to sport a cocky smirk. 

“Oh my god,” he pants. “Are you sure. You’re a virgin?” He can’t even get a full sentence out, he’s breathing so hard. I just giggle, nodding my head, and then I stand up, facing him.

“Can I kiss you or do you not want a kiss after that?” I ask.

Colson scoffs. “Oh, fuck that,” he says, holding my face in his hands as he leans down to kiss me. The kiss is hot at first, hard and messy, but then it slows down, growing more passionate, and I have no idea how our mouths can fit together so perfectly. It’s like we were made for each other. 

We fall onto the bed as we keep kissing, our legs intertwining, and we press as close as we possibly can to each other. And that’s when it hits me. I don’t just like this man.

I’m falling in love with him.

#machine gun kelly #mgk #colson baker #machine gun kelly fanfic #mgk fanfic #colson baker fanfic #machine gun kelly smut #mgk smut #colson baker smut #machine gun kelly x ofc #mgk x ofc #colson x ofc #colson baker x ofc

[hollywoodxwhore]

Mine | Chapter Nine

Colson x Original Female Character

Synopsis: Presley may look sinful on the outside, but deep down, she's innocent, guarded, and terrified of intimacy. Colson, on the other hand, is living up to his womanizer reputation as a way to cope with heartbreak. When his new guitarist invites his twin sister to join them on tour, Colson discovers that he's actually capable of feeling. Will Presley and Colson be able to push past all of the barriers trying to prevent them from happening?

Warnings/Content: Smut (18+), swearing, all the emotions, fingering, hand job, spit as lube, squirting

This chapter is a little short since we're getting closer to them having sex for the first time. Hope y'all still enjoy!

Colson

Vacation with Presley in The Maldives was paradise.

We could’ve been in some seedy motel or in my bedroom at home or in the backseat of a car for all I care – it would’ve been special either way. And hooking up for me has never been special. 

Even with Megan. Yes, I’m saying her name. Presley and I talked a lot while we were on the ocean, and she encouraged me to talk about my past, to accept what happened. Besides, saying her name doesn’t hurt anymore now that Presley is all I can see. 

I’m falling in love with this girl. She doesn’t know that; it’s too soon to tell her, and things are too complicated with Cash and the tour and just life, but it’s true. She’s everything I never knew I wanted. She’s funny and smart and she’s a great listener, and our sexual chemistry is insane. I just know the first time we have sex will be incredible. 

We were all over each other for the rest of the trip. She goes crazy when I finger her now – it’s her favorite thing for me to do. She also loves giving me head, and shit, I’m not going to complain. Even though she’s a virgin, she gives the best head I’ve ever gotten, and I’ve gotten a lot of head in my time. Everything with her is better than anytime with anyone else. No one else matters. I barely remember those past hook-ups. 

The magic is over now that we’re back on tour. When we sleep on the tour bus, it’s a lot harder to sneak around, and our plan to switch rooms with Cash and Olivia has only worked a couple of times. I miss her like crazy. We’ve barely touched since the tour started back up again, aside from some stolen kisses and a brush of hands in passing. I’m starting to ache for her, and not just in a sexual way. 

We’re at Red Rocks tonight, which is one of my favorite venues. It’s such a cool place and the crowd is always so energetic and hype. I’m really looking forward to performing tonight. I’m in my dressing room by myself. My clothes are picked out and I’ve eaten and we still have a couple of hours before the show starts. I don’t know where Presley is, so I decide to text her and invite her to my dressing room. Maybe we can have some time together. 

A soft rap on the door signals her arrival and she slips inside easily once I open the door. I lock it behind me and as soon as we’re behind a locked door, I practically lunge for her, scooping her into my arms. She laughs as I bury my face in her neck, breathing in her sweet scent, and her legs wrap around my waist. 

I walk until her back presses against the wall and then I kiss her, hard and deep and slow. And I kiss her again. And again, until she’s sighing. When I pull back, her hands are in my hair and she’s looking at me like I’m the only thing in the world. She gives me that cute little half-smile she does and I smile back.

“Miss you,” I say gruffly, setting her on her feet so I can tuck her soft hair behind her ear and kiss her forehead.

“I miss you, too,” she agrees, sliding her arms around my waist. I smile and cup her face, tilting it towards mine so I can kiss her again. “Mm, careful or I’m going to make you bend me over the vanity.”

I chuckle but I can’t help but feel arousal creep towards my dick. “Maybe that was my intention,” I say.

Presley smiles and bites her lip, sliding her hands down my chest. I’m shirtless, in just a pair of sweats. “This has been tough,” she admits, and her smile fades a little. 

I sigh and rest my forehead against hers. “I know it has been,” I murmur. “I’m sorry. It won’t be like this forever.”

“Promise?” she asks, and suddenly, the duality of her and Cash hits me like a train. I flash back to the first night Presley was with us, when Cash made me promise not to go for her, and now here I am. I completely betrayed my friend. 

I don’t think about it often; I try to push it from my brain when possible. But sometimes, it hits me, and I feel totally lost. I don’t want to lose Cash, the band might actually kill me, but there’s just something about Presley. I swear to god it’s fate, like maybe she’s my twin flame, if that shit exists. Megan sure wasn’t. But the feelings I have for Presley are real and raw and so hard to tamp down. I don’t want to tamp them down. I want to feel every single one of them.

“Hey,” Presley says softly, putting her hand on my cheek. “Where’d you go just now?”

I won’t lie to her. I care about her too much. I refuse to have a relationship built on lies again. “Oh, just worrying about Cash,” I confess with a little shrug.

Presley frowns and nods, hanging her head. “I’m sorry to put you in such a hard situation,” she says quietly.

“Hey,” I say, tipping her chin up. “It’s worth it, Pres. I promise.”

She doesn’t look convinced and it breaks my heart. Suddenly, I’m determined to fix it.

“Pres?” I say.

“Yeah?” She looks up at me with those eyes. 

I bite my lip. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

I can’t believe it but I feel my cheeks warming. Me? Blushing? God. I’ve done it way too much since meeting Presley. “Well,” I say, “I was hoping you’d want to be my girlfriend.”

Presley’s perfectly groomed eyebrow arches and a little smirk grows on her face. “Colson,” she says, stepping closer to me. “You’re asking me to be your girlfriend?”

“Is that okay?” I say, suddenly feeling insecure. I start to fidget. “I just–”

“Col,” Presley says, effectively stopping my spiral. “Of course I want to be your girlfriend. I’d love nothing more.”

A grin practically splits my face in half. I’ve never been so happy. I heave her into my arms and she squeals as I spin her around, plopping her down onto the leather couch in my dressing room. Her cheeks are flushed and her smile is wide and she’s so goddamn beautiful. I love her. I fucking love her. 

Instead of saying it, I show her. I stroke her cheek gently with my thumb and then I kiss her, so soft and slow that she lets out a helpless little sound. The kisses I give her are tender, and I can feel her heart start to race. I’m halfway on the couch, one foot still on the floor, and Presley pulls me closer, her nails digging gently into my bare hips.

“Colson,” she whimpers. “Please?”

“Yeah, baby,” I say breathlessly, lifting her dress over her head. She lays on my couch in a black bra and matching panties, and she’s so unbelievably perfect. I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of this. “We’re gonna need to make it quick,” I say regretfully.

“I don’t need much time,” she says, reaching into my sweats to pull out my cock. I let out a breath when she does. Her eyes hold mine as she curls her fingers around me, sliding slowly up and down. I gulp, unable to look away from her. 

“Me neither,” I rasp, cupping her over her panties. Her long eyelashes flutter and she bites down on her lip as my fingertips immediately find her clit, already a little swollen in her panties.

“T-take these off,” she says. “Don’t want to be walking around in wet panties all night.”

My eyes close for a second with overwhelming arousal. I want her to walk around in wet panties all night, but I don’t want her to be uncomfortable. “Fine,” I say, quickly pulling the black fabric down her legs. “C’mere, baby. Let me get you nice and wet for me.”

Presley whimpers and pulls me close, one arm going around my waist while her other hand continues to move slowly up and down my cock. “Mm, Pres,” I wheeze. “Spit, baby.”

“Sorry,” she breathes, lifting her hand to her face. She holds my eyes with hers as she spits into her hand, and then her fingers are around me again, slick this time, and I can’t help but moan at the feeling. My fingers find her clit again and I massage slowly until her breath deepens and her pupils widen. I’m starting to recognize her tells. I already know she’s wet as fuck, and as I slide my fingers lower, I can feel that I’m right. 

As I hook my middle and ring fingers inside of her slowly, she moans, digging her nails into my back. “Cols,” she says brokenly, hips twitching up a little. 

“Mm, baby, you feel so fucking good,” I murmur, kissing her swollen lips firmly. Her hand starts to move a little faster and I match her pace, beckoning my fingers against her g-spot. Her breath against my lips is so shaky and it’s so hot, knowing how turned on she is because of me. God, I’ve missed touching her. I go harder, faster, and Pres moans again, one of my favorite sounds. 

“Uhhh fuck, baby,” she whines, tipping her head back as her pleasure builds. I press my thumb to her clit, watching her face for a reaction, and when her brows furrow and her mouth drops open, excitement surges through me. I can tell she’s starting to get close, which is good, because I am, too. It’s been too long for us.

“Presley,” I moan, pressing my mouth to hers, but we barely kiss. We just pant into each other's mouths, needing to be close but unable to focus on kissing. She rubs her thumb over my tip and I let out a choked moan as my hips jerk, but I need her to either come first or come with me. I won’t come before she does. 

Suddenly, she sucks in a sharp breath, her entire body tensing up and going still except for the walls of her pussy, which clench around my fingers so tight I can barely keep moving them. I focus on the lightning speed at which I beckon my fingertips, knowing how much she needs a frenzied pace when she’s on the precipice. 

Her knees slam together and she wails, neck arching and head falling back as she gushes into my hand, and with wide eyes, I look down. She’s always wet and I can always feel her come, but this is different. I’m making Presley squirt, and suddenly, I lose all control. “Oh, fuck!” I gasp as my hips jerk forward hard, my cum splashing onto Presley’s heaving stomach. As hard as I’m coming, I focus on working Presley through her orgasm, and when she whines and arches her hips away, I stop, gently pulling my fingers out. 

“Oh my fucking god,” Presley says, breathing so hard that I can see her gasps in her long, beautiful neck. “What the fuck just happened?”

I lift my hand, filled with her release, and my cock twitches all over again. “Holy shit, baby,” I rasp. “You just squirted.”

Presley’s eyes widen a little and she grabs my wrist to look at my hand. “I…I did?” she asks, stunned.

“Yeah,” I say, then let out a breathless chuckle of disbelief. “Fuck yeah, baby.” 

“Shit,” she says, letting her head flop back onto the armrest. “No wonder it felt different.”

I chuckle and get up on shaky legs, walking over to the vanity for some tissues. I wipe my hand off first, then get some clean tissues and wipe my release off of her stomach. She spreads her legs and looks down, and god, I’m already half hard again when I notice the way the leather glistens from her orgasm. 

“Fuck, Pres, you’re so hot,” I say, shaking my head. 

She bites her lip and smiles softly at me, and I just about melt. I kneel down to kiss her softly, playing gently with her hair, and then I sigh, coming back to reality. “I need to get ready,” I murmur. “The guys will be looking for me soon.”

“Yeah,” she says, sitting up and sliding off the couch. She goes to clean up with some more tissues and I wipe her release off the couch, trying to convince myself not to get hard again. I pull my sweats up and hand Pres her panties, which she steps into carefully. I hand over her dress and it falls over her body, and then I pull her close by her waist.

“You make me so fucking happy, my girlfriend,” I say, and Presley brightens immediately, smiling wide.

“Me too, boyfriend,” she says, and it occurs to me that I’m her first boyfriend. She hasn’t had this happen to her before. That makes me smile even more, and I wrap her in my arms, rocking her a bit. 

“Hotel tonight,” I say.

“I’ll do my best with Liv,” she says.

“Okay baby,” I tell her, giving her one last kiss before reluctantly letting her slip back out the door. But then, she pops her head back in and I lift a brow. 

“If…if we get to share a room tonight,” she says. “I want you, Cols. All of you.”

My breath hitches and my eyes widen. Fuck. It’s imperative now that we get to share a room. Presley wants me to take her virginity. Holy fuck. “Okay, baby,” I croak. She smiles and leaves. 

God, this is torture. Beautiful torture.

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[hollywoodxwhore]

Mine | Chapter Six

Colson x Original Female Character

Synopsis: Presley may look sinful on the outside, but deep down, she's innocent, guarded, and terrified of intimacy. Colson, on the other hand, is living up to his womanizer reputation as a way to cope with heartbreak. When his new guitarist invites his twin sister to join them on tour, Colson discovers that he's actually capable of feeling. Will Presley and Colson be able to push past all of the barriers trying to prevent them from happening?

Warnings/Content: discussions of virginity and intimacy issues, mentions of sexual acts, mentions of meg*n f*x (lol) but their relationship was never public, mentions of panic attacks/anxiety, skinny dipping, swearing, marijuana usage

This is a shorter chapter than usual and it's just Presley's POV, but that's because the next chapter is smut and it is DETAILED, y'all. So it needed its own chapter.

Presley

It’s easy to be quiet during dinner because everyone else is chatty. I smile at all the right times and eat just enough food to appear normal, but my stomach is in knots. I can’t believe I told Colson that I’m still a virgin. No one knows now except for him and me. I want to grab my secret back and hold it close, but I can’t.

It just came out. When he brought up how difficult it must be for me to sleep with people, I just froze. I didn’t know what to say. I’ve never really lied about it, but no one’s ever asked. I just don’t ever talk about it and people assume I’ve had sex. Somehow, I just couldn’t deny it from Colson. Ever since I met him, I’ve had this weird trust in him. He makes me feel safe.

Everyone is tired, so we call it an early night and retreat back to our homes. Colson lets me lead the way inside and I go straight to the bedroom, kicking off my sandals before lying face first on the bed. My throat feels tight and I’m scared, but I know we have to talk about it.

I feel the bed sink beside me and then, Colson’s warm hand is spanning the small of my back. His touch ignites a fire in me. Let’s get something straight: I’m not a virgin because I’m not interested in sex. I very much am. I actually have a pretty high sex drive. But my insecurities overpower my desires. 

I turn my head so I can look at him. He’s lying on his side, looking at me with those beautiful eyes. He looks so good and all I want to do is grab him and kiss him, to trust him enough to let him take my clothes off and touch me. But I’m trembling hard just thinking about having this conversation. Intimacy is next to impossible for me. 

“Hey,” he says quietly.

“Hey,” I reply.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Colson says, “but I’m a good listener.”

I sigh softly and nod, slowly sitting up. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I say softly. Colson frowns, his eyes deep with sadness. I just shrug. “I don’t know why I’m like this. I’ve had many opportunities to date and even to sleep with people, but I freak out every time. Just the thought of it makes me feel like I’m going to have a panic attack. So it’s just easier not to do it.”

Colson studies my face. “But…but don’t you want to?” He asks. 

I huff a soft laugh and look away, focusing on my nails instead. “Of course I do,” I mutter. “I’m only human.”

“You’re depriving yourself of something amazing because of your fears,” he says. It isn’t a question or an accusation. He states it as a fact. 

I nod. “Yeah.”

Colson sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. “I know we all have our own insecurities and it doesn’t matter what we look like,” he says. “But Pres. You’re literally a ten out of ten.”

I can’t help but smile at his comment. “Takes one to know one,” I say wryly, glancing at him out of the corner of my eye. 

Colson’s smile is bright and warm. It melts me. 

“Do you ever want to?” He asks.

I bite my lip, anxiety rising in me like a wave. “I mean, of course I do,” I admit. “I want to so badly. It gets worse the longer I wait. But I just don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.”

Colon watches me, drumming his fingers on his thigh. “Have you done anything?”

I’m quiet.

“Kissed someone?’

“Of course.”

“Made out?”

“Yes.”

“Been fingered? Given a hand job?”

I blush and look down, shaking my head. My cheeks burn with shame. 

“Never even dry humped?”

“Barely,” I reply. “Guys just think I play hard to get. They have no idea why I really turn them down.”

Colson whistles softly, looking out the window at the ocean as the sun sets. “I’m sorry,” he says. “My mind is just blown.”

“Yeah.” I let out a big sigh and rest my head back against the headboard. “I know. I’m sure you can’t imagine. How old were you when you lost it?”

“Way too young,” Colson answers. “That’s all you need to know. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” He pauses. “I wish I would take sex a little more seriously. Like, of course I get consent and I always make my partners come but I guess I’m just going through the motions at this point.”

I swallow hard, but I don’t look at him. This is easier when we don’t have to make eye contact. “Have you ever had sex with someone you love?” I ask.

Colson is quiet for so long that I almost think he isn’t going to answer. Finally, he replies with a short, “Yes.”

“You don’t want to talk about it?” I ask.

Colson chews his lip. “I do, actually,” he confesses. “It’s just…it’s hard. I haven’t talked about it with anyone.”

“Well, you’re the only person that knows I’m a virgin, so it’s only fair I get one of your secrets, too.” I smile softly and so does he.

He takes a deep breath. “I was pretty serious with someone a little over a year ago,” he says. “I fell in love with her. I’d never been in love but I could tell I loved her. I was obsessed with her. Wanted to be around her all the time. Wanted to marry her.” 

A glance at his hands shows me that they’re trembling. This really is hard for him to talk about. 

“She was basically using me. I was her rebound,” he mutters. “She was really distant for a while, and then I saw paparazzi photos with her ex.”

I wince. “She’s famous?”

Colson nods. “Yeah. Uh. It was Megan Fox,” he says.

I can’t help but gasp. How did this never come out? “Holy shit,” I say. 

“Yeah,” Colson mutters. “She broke my heart. That’s why all I do is sleep with people. I refuse to get deeper.”

“That’s fair,” I say. I hesitate before asking the next question. “Are you still in love with her?”

Colson considers this, then shakes his head. “I think she’ll always have a part of me, but no. I’m not.”

“That’s good,” I say.

“Yeah. It is.” He looks at me then, and he looks…lighter. “Thanks for listening. I haven’t talked to anyone about it. It’s good to let it out.”

“Same,” I say, realizing how much better I feel now that someone else knows my secret. Maybe it doesn’t change anything, but it’s nice not to be the only one carrying it.

I scoot closer to Colson and rest my head on his shoulder. I’m surprised when he scoops me into his lap, but I go with it, sliding an arm around his shoulder. 

“Thanks for listening,” I say softly. 

“Thank you for listening,” he replies, smiling at me, and our faces are so damn close, and I’ve never wanted to kiss someone so badly before. But I force myself to look away.

I can’t. I just can’t. 

“Hey,” Colson says. “I have an idea.”

“Hm?” I reply, still flustered from our almost kiss.

“Just hear me out,” he says. 

I lean back a little and look at him warily. 

He chuckles. “Let’s go skinny dipping.”

I’m silent, waiting for the punchline. “Were you not a part of that conversation we just had?” I ask.

Colson laughs. “I was. That’s why I’m suggesting it. Hear me out,” he says. “I’ll get in first and turn around. Then, you’ll get in. It’s dark enough so that I won’t see anything, but then you’ll get to practice being naked in front of someone.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Damn. That’s actually a good idea.”

Colson grins widely. “I know.”

I roll my eyes but smile. “Can we smoke first?”

“Is the sky above us? Duh.”

XX

After a blunt, I’m feeling a little more relaxed. Still nervous, but it’s actually a really clever idea. We’re out on the deck of our little house, both wrapped in giant beach towels. Colson looks over at me and raises a brow. “Ready?”

I nod. “Ready.”

“I’ll go first,” he says. “Gonna drop my towel now, so if you don’t want to see my pale, nonexistent ass, I’d close your eyes.”

I laugh and do as I’m told. I wait until I hear a splash and then open my eyes, immediately finding Colson in the water. My heart starts to beat a little faster. “I’m not going to get eaten by a shark, right?” I ask.

“No,” Colson says. “You’ll be totally fine. I’m gonna turn around now, okay?”

“Okay,” I say weakly.

“Pres?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re safe.” His voice is calming and soft, but I can still hear him. “I promise.”

A lump forms in my throat. Who would've known that MGK was this sensitive, kind man? With his words, I drop my towel and ease myself into the water. “Okay,” I say once the water is up to my shoulders. “I’m in.”

Colson turns around and smiles at me as soon as he sees me. “You’re doing it,” he says. “You’re naked in front of someone.”

“Shit,” I say, laughing shakily. “I am.”

Colson smiles widely. “I’m proud of you.”

I blush. “I know this seems stupid—”

“Stop,” Colson says. “We all have our things. I’m the last person who can judge you.” 

I don’t say anything. Slowly, I start to relax. I can’t see Colson’s body which means he definitely can’t see mine. I’m safe. But part of me thinks that even if he did see me, I’d still be safe. 

“Hey. Let’s play 20 questions,” he says.

“Okay.” I kick my legs gently in the warm water. “You first.”

“Tell me about your family.”

“Okay,” I say. “Well, obviously Cash is my best friend. My parents are the coolest people you’ll ever meet. We’re all really close. All of my grandparents have passed and both my parents were only children, so it’s really just us four.”

“That’s wild,” Colson says. “All of that.”

“What about your family?”

Colson runs a hand through his hair, turning the bleached locks darker with water. “Well,” he sighs. “My dad died a few years ago. I’m not in contact with my mom. She left when I was little.”

“Colson, I’m so sorry.” I frown.

“I don’t regret anything,” he says. “My dad and I made amends and got closer before he died.”

“That’s good. No siblings?”

“Nope,” he says. “That’s why my boys are so important to me. They’re like family.” 

“That makes sense,” I say. 

“Alright, your turn.”

“Hm. Did you play sports in school?” I ask.

Colson chuckles. “Yep. Football in high school and some basketball here and there. You?”

“Volleyball,” I answer. 

“Makes sense with your height,” he says. “Tell me about your friends back home.”

I wet my lips, shrugging. “I’m not super close with anyone,” I say. “I’m friends with the people at the shop, but we don’t usually hang out. I kind of roll solo. Cash is honestly my best friend.”

“Has it been hard having him gone?” Colson asks.

“Yeah,” I confess with a nod. “It really has. I’m so happy for him, really I am.”

“But?” Colson asks when I fall quiet.

“But Cash is the only person I really talk to about serious stuff,” I explain. “Without him around, it’s been rough. Lonely.”

Colson considers this, then swims a little closer. I tense up slightly, but he stops a few feet away. “I’m glad you’re with us right now,” he says. “You should stay.”

My brow furrows. “How?” I ask. “I can’t just mooch off Cash forever. I need to make money and have a career.”

“You have any experience managing?” He asks.

“I mean, I manage my own schedule at the shop,” I say with a shrug.

“Ashleigh and Olivia always need help,” he says. “I’m sure we could pay you to help them.”

“Don’t do it because you feel bad for me, Colson,” I say, shaking my head.

“I’m not,” he insists. “It’s just an option if you decide you want to stay.”

”Okay,” I say after a moment. “Well, thank you. That’s super nice of you.”

Colson watches me, and I squirm a little. “I like having you around,” he says.

“I like being around,” I reply. “I don’t know why, but you just feel…”

“Safe?” Colson asks.

“Exactly.”

“So do you,” Colson says. “I feel like I can talk to you about anything. It’s crazy.”

“Agreed,” I say. “I don’t know what it is. I should be so intimidated by you, and I am to some degree.”

Colson’s brows draw together. “Why should you be intimidated by me?”

I give him a look. “Really? You’re Machine Gun Kelly,” I remind him, and he rolls his eyes. “You’re hot as fuck. Girls fall at your feet. You should scare the hell out of me.”

“See, I hate that,” he says. “I hate the idea of being a celebrity.” He puts air quotes around the word. “I don’t want to be intimidating. I used to want to be, but not anymore. I want to be approachable. I want people to know that I’m actually a pretty chill guy. A nice guy.”

“The people who are important do know that, Colson,” I tell him. “Your real fans, you know?”

Colson considers, then nods. “You think so?” he asks. 

“Yes,” I say honestly. “The vibe at your shows is so intimate even when there are tons of people. Everyone is getting along and just enjoying your music. It’s really special, honestly.”

Colson cracks a little smile. “Huh. I’m glad to hear that,” he says. His eyes meet mine again. “Pres…”

I bite my lip, listening. It seems like he’s going to say something important.

“You shouldn’t shut out the idea of a relationship,” he says. “Some guy is going to love you and your body exactly how you are. You deserve that.”

I chew my lip. “But so do you, Colson,” I say. “You got your heart broken. That’s horrible. But it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try again.”

Colson shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess. I’m just so busy, it’s hard to even meet people.”

It stings to talk about this, to think about Colson pursuing another woman, but I’m not here to be anything other than a supportive friend. “Your life might not be like this forever,” I say with a shrug. “Maybe you’ll settle down a little and then you’ll meet someone.”

“Presley,” Colson says roughly, and my heart stutters. I barely breathe while I wait to hear what he’s going to say, but he just shakes his head. “Do you want to go in?”

“Oh,” I say. “Sure.” 

“Do you want to get out first?” He asks. “I promise I won’t look.”

“Sure.” He turns around and I watch him longingly for a second, the way the moon illuminates the Dalí piece on his back. I stifle a sigh and climb out of the water, wrapping up in my towel. “Okay,” I say, turning around as he gets out, too. I lead the way inside, take pajamas into the bathroom, change, wash my face, and brush my teeth. I’m tired now. 

When I exit the bathroom, Colson is sprawled on top of the covers in his boxer briefs, hands behind his head, and all of a sudden, I’m aching. I’ve wanted sex before, sure, but I’ve never wanted a person as badly as I want Colson. This is a slippery slope, sharing a bed, skinny dipping, talking about our secrets, but at the same time, it’s clear he isn’t going to make a move, so I guess I’m just stuck pining after him. 

I climb under the blankets and yawn. “Night, Col.”

“You okay, Pres?” He asks.

“Yeah,” I say. Despite everything, I am. “Thank you for everything tonight. That was…that was a big step for me.”

Colson’s hand brushes my hair off my shoulder and my eyelids immediately grow heavy. “Happy to help,” he says.

I’m confused. Confused but happy and relaxed. I’m too tired to really figure it out, so when the light switches off and Colson curls his long body around mine, I fall right to sleep.

#machine gun kelly #mgk #colson baker #machine gun kelly fanfic #mgk fanfic #colson baker fanfic #machine gun kelly x ofc #mgk x ofc #colson x ofc #colson baker x ofc

[hollywoodxwhore]

Mine | Chapter Ten

Colson x Original Female Character

Synopsis: Presley may look sinful on the outside, but deep down, she's innocent, guarded, and terrified of intimacy. Colson, on the other hand, is living up to his womanizer reputation as a way to cope with heartbreak. When his new guitarist invites his twin sister to join them on tour, Colson discovers that he's actually capable of feeling. Will Presley and Colson be able to push past all of the barriers trying to prevent them from happening?

Warnings/Content: Smut (18+), alcohol and marijuana usage, swearing, discussions of virginity, vulnerability, grinding, p in v sex, oral sex (f receiving)

Buckle up, y'all. The moment you've been waiting for: Presley loses her virginity to Colson. I appreciate all the feedback!

Presley

Olivia and I are backstage while the boys perform, and as much as we like watching them, we decided to sneak away to her dressing room for some quiet. She sips a beer and I take hits off my pen every so often. She seems so relaxed, but I’m not sure I’ve ever been so jittery in my life. I can’t believe I told Colson I was ready.

It’s not that I was being dishonest. I am ready. He could’ve taken me the first night and I would’ve been okay with it. But no matter how much I trust him, this is a big step for me. Actual penetration, to me, is the closest two humans can be. I want it to live up to the hype. I’m also scared of getting more attached than I already am. 

I’ve zoned out for the fourth time during only one story of Olivia’s, and finally, she huffs at me, but her eyes are playful. “Pres,” she says. “Where the hell are you?”

I smile sheepishly. “Sorry,” I say, shaking my head to try to snap myself out of it. 

She studies my face and I shift uncomfortably under her scrutiny. She narrows her eyes at me. “Hey, Pres?” she asks.

“Y-yeah?” I answer, my mouth feeling extremely dry. I reach for my water bottle and take a shaky sip. 

“Can we stop pretending I don’t know about you and Colson?” Her tone is casual and calm, but it ignites a fire in me and I startle, eyes widening. Oh god. I’m nauseous. How does she know? Does this mean Cash knows? Holy fuck – “Cash doesn’t know,” she says, interrupting my thoughts. “In fact, he’s the most oblivious person I’ve ever met.”

“Oh thank god,” I breathe, slumping a little in relief. “Liv, you can’t tell him–”

“Relax, Pres,” she says, putting a perfectly manicured hand to my knee, “I won’t. It’s not my business.”

I bite my lip hard. “How do you know?”

She shrugs. “People act differently once they’ve fucked,” she says simply. “It becomes pretty obvious.”

I blink at her. “Colson and I haven’t…” She gives me a look and I shake my head. “Honestly! We’ve done other stuff, but we haven’t had sex. I’ve, um, I’ve never even…”

Olivia raises a brow. “Wait. You’re a virgin?” she asks. My cheeks redden but I nod. “No way,” she says, covering her mouth. “No offense, but it shocks me that Colson is pursuing you.”

I flinch a little. “He’s different than he seems, Liv,” I say quietly. “He…he asked me to be his girlfriend earlier today.”

Olivia is silent for a moment, and then she lets out an incredulous laugh. “I’ll be damned. Holy shit. It’s about time,” she says.

“For what?” I ask, brow furrowing. 

“For Colson to stop moping over Megan and find someone actually good for him,” she says. “I mean, I see the way he looks at you, but I didn’t think he was ready to try romance again.”

I shrug, and I can’t help the little smile that crosses my face. “Yeah. He’s…he’s so sweet, Liv,” I tell her, and she softens, smiling. “He’s so gentle and patient and he just gets me, you know?”

“I do know,” she says, eyes sparkling, and I smile when I realize she’s talking about Cash. And then, anger flares inside me.

“Do you know that Cash has been telling Colson not to pursue anything with me?” I ask.

Olivia shakes her head quickly as if to clear away the disbelief. “Wait, what?!”

“Yeah,”  I say sharply. “He’s told Colson several times now not to try anything with me.”

Olivia snorts. “Well, Cash is a dumbass then, seeing as he’s made you room with Kells so many times,” she says.

“Exactly!” I say. “Although, I guess you did say he’s oblivious.” 

“Blinded by his own relationship,” Olivia says knowingly, nodding slowly. “It isn’t Cash’s business who you date.”

“Exactly what I said!” I say. “But Colson told me I should wait until the tour ends. Otherwise Cash might blow up and leave the tour.”

Olivia frowns. “That’s not fucking fair,” she says.

I shake my head. “No, I agreed, Colson isn’t wrong–”

“No, Cash is wrong,” she says. “It’s not fair that he gets to enjoy his relationship and you and Colson have to hide.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” I mutter. “But my brother is stubborn as fuck. I wouldn’t put it past him to do some dumb shit like punch Colson or leave the band.”

Olivia winces. “That would be really bad.”

“I know.”

Olivia sighs. “Okay. So you wait ‘til the end of tour. That’s not so bad, right?” 

I shrug weakly. “I guess not. Just sucks because I want to be unashamedly all over my boyfriend.” The word feels weird in my mouth, but I like the way it sounds. My boyfriend. Colson. 

Olivia smiles slowly. “Fuck all that. I’m so happy for you guys,” she said. “I couldn’t have handpicked someone better for Kells, honestly.”

“Thank you,” I say, beaming.

“Now, can we go back to the virginity thing?” she asks, and my smile fades, but I nod.

“If I can manage to room with him,” I say, “we’re going to tonight.”

Olivia’s eyes widen. “Oh, shit,” she says. “I’ll make it happen. Don’t you worry.” 

“Really?” I ask, nerves and excitement dancing in my belly.

“Yes, of course!” she says. “This is a big deal, Pres!”

“I know,” I agree, wiping my sweaty palms on my thighs. “I’m a little scared.”

Olivia softens and pets my leg. “From what it sounds like, Colson will be so good to you,” she says. “Just be honest with him. Don’t rush it.”

“It’s gonna hurt,” I say with a wince. “He’s…sorry. He’s your friend.”

“Oh, his dick is huge,” Olivia says bluntly. “We all know it. We’ve all seen Kells naked at one point or another. We’ve all walked in on him fucking, too.”

I cringe. “Yeah. Me too.”

Olivia winces sympathetically. “Yeah. Kells is– was– a manwhore. We love him, though.” She studies my face. “Hey,” she says. “It might hurt. But my advice is to do a shit ton of foreplay. Like, a lot. Have an orgasm before you even have sex, if possible. It’ll make it easier.”

I blush. I’ve never had a girlfriend to talk about this with before, but it’s nice not to be carrying this alone. I trust Olivia, and I really like her. I’m glad she agrees that Cash is being a douche. It tells me how good she is for my brother. 

“I’ll figure out the hotel situation,” she says. “Your job is to enjoy tonight.” 

XX

Olivia is amazing, and she came through. She told Cash that she and I were planning on rooming together tonight but that she was missing him, and he gladly switched rooms with me, all too focused on his relationship. I’m furious at him, but I pretend that I’m not. He’s too wrapped up to notice something’s off with me. 

Besides, my happiness with Colson makes up for it. I’m in pure bliss, knowing he’s mine and I’m his. I’m a mix between giddy and nervous as I lie on the hotel bed. Colson is in the shower. He insisted he take one even though I assured him I don’t mind being with him, post-concert and sweaty. It’s kind of endearing actually. He cares so much about this. He wants it to be perfect, I can tell.

So do I. I fluctuate constantly between scared and turned on. Once Colson is out of the shower and here with me, I’ll feel better. He turns off the shower and I tense up, fidgeting on the bed. This is happening. This is happening very soon.

Colson comes out of the bathroom in a pair of boxer briefs, hair still wet and messy from being towel dried. He looks amazing, as always. I love the way his briefs hug him just right, and I have an urge to tell him to turn around so I can check out his ass, but I can’t seem to find my voice.

He crosses the room to me, standing at the side of the bed, and reaches out to tuck my hair behind my ear. “How you doing, pretty girl?” he asks softly. 

I bite my lip and reach out for him. “Good,” I say, voice nearly a whisper. He sits on the bed with his back against the headboard, then pulls me into his lap. He slides his hands up and down my sides, admiring the silky slip I’m wearing. “You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs, looking up at me with those ice blue eyes. “Can’t believe you’re mine.”

I bite my lip and then lean in to kiss him. His kisses always relax me, so it will calm me down. Colson’s big hands land on my ass and squeeze, and I start to grind against him, but for some reason, I’m not as turned on as I usually am. It probably has something to do with the giant knot of anxiety in my stomach. 

Colson notices. Of course he does. He seems to know me better than I know myself. “Hey,” he murmurs, cupping my face in his hands. His brow is furrowed in concern and he’s frowning. “What’s wrong, baby?”

I’m embarrassed at the fact that my eyes are watering. This whole thing is so embarrassing. Why is this so hard for me? It feels like everyone else can get naked so easily. I’m 23 goddamn years old. What is wrong with me?

“Hey, Pres,” Colson coos, pulling me in close for a hug. Strong arms wrap around my waist and hold my close. “Shh, baby, you’re okay. You’re safe.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper as my tears soak his neck. I’m shaking like a leaf and I’m so humiliated. 

Colson laughs softly. “Oh, baby, you have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing.” He kisses my shoulder and rocks me a bit. “Pres? Can you look at me?”

I don’t move. It’s too fucking embarrassing.

“Presley,” he says. “Hey, what’s your middle name?” 

“Maeve.”

“Presley Maeve Carver,” he says, and my mouth twitches. “Will you just fuckin’ look at me? Please?”

I take a deep breath and finally do as I’m told, pulling back from our embrace. Immediately, Colson’s hands are on my face, wiping away my tears. He smiles sweetly at me and instantly, my anxiety starts to edge back down. I sniffle, feeling so vulnerable, but so very safe. How does Colson do it? Make me feel like nothing and no one can hurt me.

“Pres,” he says. “When I asked you to be my girlfriend, I wasn’t asking because I thought it meant you’d sleep with me.” He tucks my hair behind my ear. “I asked you to be my girlfriend because I love everything about you. You’re perfect just as you are. Okay?” 

I hesitate, but then nod.

“Baby, there’s never any pressure,” he says. “I love what we do together. I’m not in any rush to have sex with you. I mean, I would love to, don’t get me wrong.”

"I want to,” I say with a sniffle. “It just doesn’t feel right. Not right now.”

Colson looks around. “Kind of impersonal at a hotel, huh?”

I nod timidly. 

Colson nods slowly. “We’ll be in LA in a week,” he says. “That’s where my house is. No one else will be around. We’ll have all the time in the world.”

I relax immediately. “That sounds better,” I admit. “Are you sure you’re okay with waiting?”

“Pres, I’d wait forever for you,” he blurts. And then he clears his throat, cheeks reddening. But his words have me biting back a smile. 

I love you. The words want to burst out of me so badly, but I hold them in. Not yet. It’s still so soon. Even though the words read extremely true, even more so after tonight. 

Colson

I can’t get back to LA soon enough.

It’s not because I can’t wait to have sex with Presley. I mean, of course I’m looking forward to it. I love her and I want to show her. I want to connect with her in that way. But that’s why I’m so happy to be back home. Time alone at my house will give us more time to connect, and maybe even talk about what the future will hold. 

I can’t believe I ever wanted to marry Megan. In hindsight, I’m so fucking glad I was just her rebound because if we were still together, I never would’ve found out what real love is. I never would’ve connected with Presley like this. And when I say this girl was made for me, I mean it.

The longer we’re together, the more I notice things about her. She has freckles. Tiny, almost invisible freckles. They came out when we were in The Maldives and she got a tan. She also has a birthmark in her inner thigh the shape of a chicken leg. Not even kidding. It’s hilarious and cute. When she laughs really hard, she snorts, and her nose wrinkles in the cutest way. I know I’m in deep because it’s the little things I love the most.

Our plane landed a couple of hours ago and we just got back to my house. Our suitcases are in my room and Presley stands in the doorway, looking around. I love my room. My bed is huge, I have blackout curtains on every window for prime sleeping, and it’s designed for comfort. I spend more time in here than in any other room in the house. 

I come up behind Presley and wrap my arms around her waist. She leans back against me and sighs. “I love your house, Col,” she says. “It’s so nice. It’s so you.”

I grin and press a kiss to the top of her head. “Thank you.” I let go of her and cross the room, tearing off my shirt. “I need a shower,” I announce.

“Me too,” Presley agrees. 

I lean on the doorframe of the bathroom and look her up and down. “Come shower with me,” I say.

Presley’s eyes immediately darken with lust and she bites her lip, tucking one leg behind the other. “Okay,” she says, voice small, but I can tell she wants it. I smirk and drop my jeans, stepping out of them, leaving me in only a pair of boxer briefs. Presley’s eyes widen slightly and she peels off her t-shirt and tugs down her leggings. Slowly, I stalk towards her, my eyes on hers the entire time, and when I get to her, I slip my hands into the sides of her panties and push them down. She gulps as she steps out of them. I lift her hands to my shoulders and then expertly unlatch her bra, tugging it down her arms. She grabs my boxer briefs and tugs them down, too, and finally, we’re both naked together.

The sexual tension in this room is absolutely unreal. Ever since our night in the hotel, we haven’t even had a second of alone time. It seems like someone’s always there, and more often than not, it’s Cash. My friend, my enemy. God, the guy makes me mad, but I’m also terrified of what’s going to happen when we tell him the truth. Will he get up and punch me out? Will he leave? I have no idea.

But right now, I can’t bring myself to care, because Presley stands in front of me, gorgeously naked, and soon enough, I will have all of her. I’ll be inside of her, and I’ll show her that I love her. That she never needs to be afraid again. That she can trust me. A shiver rolls down my spine at the mere thought of it. 

I take her hand and pull her with me into the bathroom where I start my shower and pull two fluffy towels from my cabinet. I throw them in the towel warmer and turn it on, and Presley lifts a brow. I smirk and shrug. She shakes her head and grins. “Rich people shit,” she says, and I laugh. But my laugh cuts off abruptly when she steps into my space and curls her fingers around my already half hard dick. I swallow hard and look down at her, letting my hands move down her back. I love how confident she’s getting.

Wordlessly, we step into the shower. Immediately, Pres goes for the shampoo and lathers some in her hands. “Turn around,” she says. My brows raise but I do. I tilt my head back with a groan when I feel Presley’s long fingernails against my scalp. My eyes close and my mouth hangs open.

“That feels so good,” I moan, and I make a mental note to ask her to play with my hair more often. Presley takes her time shampooing my hair, then adds some conditioner. I lean towards the water to rinse it and then grab the bottle of shampoo. I gesture for her to turn around and when she does, I stare shamelessly at her ass. I can’t help it. 

It’s my turn to massage the suds into her long hair and her turn to sigh and melt into the touch. I watch as goosebumps rise on her skin, even under the hot water, and smile a little. So sensitive and reactive, wherever I touch. Once her hair is rinsed and conditioned, she grabs the bottle of body wash and looks up at me. I gulp. 

She pours some of the soap into her hands and massages it in until it lathers, then gestures for me to turn around and starts with my back. She takes her time rubbing the soap into my shoulders and then slowly down my back. Finally, I feel her hands land on my ass and squeeze gently, and I can’t help but smirk. No idea why but Presley loves my ass so much, but she’s obsessed with it. She massages my cheeks and I chuckle silently. 

“Turn around,” she says, and when I do, I notice how dark her eyes have gotten. Desire swirls in my gut and I pull her close. She grabs some more soap and slowly starts rubbing it into my chest, her eyes following her hands. Down my stomach, she admires me, looking at me like I’m the most perfect thing she’s ever seen, and out of fucking nowhere, I’m hit with a huge wave of vulnerability. No one has ever looked at me like this. No one. Shit, and now my throat is tight. What the fuck is happening?

“Pres,” I say, voice rough with emotion, and she lifts her eyes to mine. She’s so stunning, her green eyes sparkling as she looks at me, hanging on my every word. I sigh and run a hand over her wet hair, my other hand sliding down her waist. 

“Cols?” she questions when I don’t say anything else. Her hands continue to stroke my stomach, my hips. I swallow the lump in my throat and keep looking at her. I can’t say anything. My throat is too tight. She softens a little and smiles gently at me. “I know, baby,” she murmurs. “I know.” She leans in and kisses me, and the kiss is everything. It’s so full of love and care, and I realize all at once that this is it. There’s no one else for me. Presley is my present and my future. I’ll never feel for anyone the things I feel for Presley. 

I wrap her up in my arms and hold her so tightly that my arms tremble a little. I’m realizing that for the first time, I might actually make love instead of fuck. The vulnerability is so striking that it scares me, but I can be vulnerable with Presley. I’ve always been able to. 

We hurry through the rest of our shower and once we’re dried off, I grab Pres by the hips and back her slowly into the room. She watches me the whole time, trusting me to get her safely to my bed. Once the backs of her knees hit the bed, she sits. Her hands are all over me: my waist, my stomach, my chest. My ass, my dick. At this point, I’m so hard that I’m leaking but it doesn’t matter. Tonight is about Presley and showing her that sex doesn’t need to be scary. It can be safe and loving. Shit, I’m learning as much as she is. 

“Get in bed, baby,” I tell her, and she does as she’s told, pulling back the covers to slide between my soft sheets. She sighs in pleasure and scoots over to make room for me. I crawl in beside her and slide my palm over her stomach, feeling the way it tenses slightly. I swear to god, her eyes haven’t left mine since we got here. 

Finally, we’re lying side by side in my bed, with no plans for the day, no reason to rush, and no one else around. We have all the time in the world together, just like we did in The Maldives, and I know that relaxes Presley, knowing she doesn’t have to rush. I know she’s scared. Of course she is. Having sex for the first time is a big deal whether or not people like to pretend it isn’t. I need this to be good for Presley, to be special. She deserves it, especially after holding out for so long.

For now, all I want to do is kiss her. I pull her closer so her leg drapes over my waist, and as my hand slides down the curve of her back, I press my mouth to hers. Her little sigh travels right to my cock and I groan softly, teasing her lips with my tongue. She opens her mouth for me and I graze my tongue against hers, teasing her. I love the way she tastes. 

Rolling her onto her back, I hover over her, taking control over the kiss. Presley is helpless to do anything but moan and pant as I melt her with kisses. I can feel her squirm beneath me, and I know she wants this. I know she’s wet just from kissing me, and I can’t wait any longer to feel her.

I let my fingers trace down her neck, and then I squeeze her breast gently. I love the way her tits fit in my hands, love the way her back arches when my thumbs brush over her sensitive nipples. Love the whines that fall from her lips when I play with her tits. I groan and roll onto my back, pulling her to straddle me so my hands are free. 

She sits up and watches me as I bring both hands up, cupping her breasts before squeezing them gently. She mewls and her head falls back, stomach tensing as I roll my thumbs over her nipples. “Colson,” she whines, hips jerking a little, and I know she’s fucking soaked. She gets wet so easily, so sinfully fucking wet, and I can’t wait to bury myself inside her. 

“Feels good, huh baby?” I say lowly, and she nods, brow furrowing with pleasure. “Yeah. That's my girl.” She practically melts into a puddle at my words, biting down on that sweet bottom lip. “Pres,” I rasp. I can’t stop talking to her. I think she likes it when I talk to her in bed. “Tell me. Are you wet for me, baby?”

“Fuck yes,” she moans, and as she does, she grinds against my bare cock. I let out a stuttering gasp as she slides against me, and instantly, my dick is wet. Holy shit. This girl is going to kill me. Cardiac arrest at 29. This is where it ends. 

“Do that again,” I plead, voice tight as my hands abandon her tits in favor of gripping that ass. Immediately, she does as she’s told, and the way my dick fits against her is too perfect. Suddenly, the words are there on the tip of my tongue. I love you. But I hold them in. Not yet.

“Fuck, Presley,” I grunt as she continues to grind on me, rolling her hips more quickly. She gasps as her hips stutter, and my eyes flick up to her face. She’s in total ecstasy, jaw slack and eyes squeezed shut. I lift my hips on her next grind and those eyes fly open as she cries out, pressing her hands to my chest.

“Ohh, Colson, fuck,” she moans, voice shaky. “Fuck, baby, I–” She doesn’t finish her sentence, and part of me wonders if she’s holding the words back, too. But that doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is the angel falling apart above me right now, rolling her wet pussy against my cock over and over. 

“That’s it,” I groan, digging my fingertips into her ass. “Make yourself come, Pres. Grind that clit on me until you explode.”

“O-ohhh,” Presley whines, hips jerking at my words. “Y-yeah…”

“Come on, baby, tell me you’re close,” I plead.

She nods frantically. “Y-yes, so fucking cl-close, Col.” Her voice is so beautifully broken, and I grip her ass harder so she grinds into me with more pressure, and as she does, her body goes rigid. Her spine straightens up as her breath catches in her throat, and then she wails, spasming against me. She gushes around my cock until I can feel her arousal trickle down my balls. It’s the sexiest, most erotic thing I’ve ever felt. 

When she’s done, she collapses on my chest and pants. I stroke her hair as she comes down, and I focus on the feel of her heartbeat against my chest. When she catches her breath, she lifts her head to look at me. Her hand finds mine and she squeezes. “Hey,” she says softly, those eyes soft and loving as they look at me.

“Pres,” I sigh, kissing her gently. 

“Col, I want you,” she says. “All of you. I’m ready, baby, please.” She sounds almost frantic and all it does is turn me on more, and fuck, I’m definitely coming way too soon tonight. It’s been so long since I’ve been inside someone, and she’s different. I’m in love with her. I’m ten times more attracted to her than I ever have been to anyone else, and I feel like a teenager again, worried about busting the second I get balls deep. 

I swallow hard and gently roll her onto her back. Reaching into my nightstand, I come back with a condom. Her eyes light up a little. “Can I put it on you?” she asks.

I whine lowly in the back of my throat and my cock twitches, reminding me of just how little control I have. “Of course,” I tell her. She wets her lips and takes the packet from me, ripping it open. She pulls out the condom and examines it for a second. I push the blankets down, making it easier for her, and she places it over the crown of my dick. I shudder at the feeling and watch as she rolls the latex down. I don’t mind condoms. Better safe than sorry. I just hope it feels good for her.

Once the condom is on, I shift so I’m hovering over her, and then I get between her legs. “Just relax,” I murmur, leaning in to pepper gentle kisses over her collarbones. I stroke her hips gently, wanting her to be as relaxed and pliant as she possibly can be. This is going to hurt. There’s no way around it. 9 inches is a lot for anyone to take, but especially a virgin. For the first time, I feel guilty about my size. The last thing I want to do is hurt Pres, but I know it won’t always hurt. 

She looks up at me with worried eyes and I kiss her gently. “Baby, I promise I’ll go so slow,” I assure her. “You’re in control here, okay? Do you trust me?”

“More than anything,” she says, pushing my hair back gently. “Just…be careful, okay?”

I nod, kissing her cheek softly. “Deep breath for me.” I reach down and grip my cock, rubbing the tip up and down over her clit. Her ass tightens and her hips lift slightly and she gasps at the sensation, still sensitive from her recent orgasm, I’m assuming. I guide my dick lower until it dips just slightly into her pussy, enough to gather her arousal and disperse it a little more. 

My heart is pounding so fucking hard I feel like I might pass out, and suddenly, I can’t keep it in anymore. I press inside of her, just an inch, and when she hisses, eyes growing worried, I touch her face. “Presley,” I say. “Look at me.” Her eyes find mine and when I see her relax, I know it’s time. I don’t know why, but I laugh softly. “Presley, I love you,” I say finally. 

Pres freezes, studying my face as if she doesn’t believe me, but when she realizes I’m telling the truth, her smile is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. “Cols,” she says breathlessly. “God. I love you, too.” 

I had no idea how much I needed to hear that. I relax and kiss her hard, and when I do, I slide just a little deeper. She whimpers and I have half a mind to pull out, so scared of hurting her, but then I feel her long nails dig into my asscheeks. “Don’t stop,” she gasps, shuddering beneath me. “S’okay.” 

“You’re doing so fucking good,” I say into her mouth, my legs shaking as I try to take my time. “Keep breathing, my love, keep breathing.” She bites down on my lip gently as I sink deeper inside, a whine keening out of her. We pant into each other’s mouths as slowly, I start to fill her, and holy fuck, she’s so tight. She squeezes my cock so tightly that I can barely breathe. Nothing has ever felt so fucking good before. 

“Almost there,” I tell her tightly, finding her hand and lacing our fingers together. “Doing so good, baby, I love you so much.” 

Presley lets out a helpless little sound and puts her hand to the back of my head. “Colson, I love you,” she whimpers, and when I pull back slightly to look into her eyes, I can see they’re watering. I open my mouth to ask if she needs me to stop, but she shakes her head and shushes me. “This isn’t because it hurts,” she murmurs. It's emotion. Fuck. I’m doing this all right. She feels safe and loved and I did that for her. Finally, I drive myself home with another slow surge of my hips, and Pres gasps. 

“Oh shit,” she mutters.

I look at her, a little worried, but she just laughs breathily. “Cols,” she says. “I’m not a virgin anymore.”

I can’t help but laugh too, and then we’re kissing. It’s messy and wet and passionate and so goddamn perfect. I could kiss her forever. Finally, she makes a soft sound and lifts her hips, giving my asscheek a squeeze. I retract my hips and carefully roll them forward. Presley breaks the kiss to let out a shaky moan, her brows knitting together. “Shit,” she pants.

“This okay?” I ask, and she nods fast. 

“God, yes.” Her voice is so laced with pleasure that I swear to god my balls tighten up. Fuck, I need to try to make this last. 

She’s wet as fuck, seriously soaked, which makes it easier to start sliding in and out of her at a slow pace. “Oh my god,” she chokes out, wrapping one leg around me. “God, Cols, feels so f-fuckin’ good–”

“Uhh, fuck,” I stutter out, unable to help myself, because it feels fucking good for me too. Way too good. My dick is wrapped so tightly in her warm, wet walls, and with every roll of my hips, our abdomens press together. I can feel every inch of the woman I love, and much to my surprise, her eyes aren’t the only ones that are wet. 

Burying my face in her neck, I try to hold back my emotions, but it’s been so long since I’ve cried and I’m scared it’s all going to come pouring out at once. I focus on the heat of her pussy, the feel of her soft skin against mine. Our hands are clutched tightly together and her nipples graze my chest and my abdomen is clenching as I pick up the pace. But Presley is whining and moaning and making the sexiest sounds I’ve ever heard, and she’s enjoying this. I know she is. She doesn’t even have to tell me.

“Presley – fuck!” I gasp, a familiar warmth rising in my stomach after way too short a time. Christ, it hasn’t even been five minutes. “Holy shit, baby, y-you’re gonna make me come,” I manage. 

“Mm,” she moans, digging her nails into my back. “Fuck, Col, I love you, baby, I love you so much!”

It’s her profession of love that does it for me. It’s all too much for my emotions and my body and I let go, coming so hard my vision whites out for a second. I’ve never felt so safe and secure and loved in my whole life, and as I rut against Presley, I wonder how anything could be more blissful than this. 

Finally, once I’m done, I stroke her hip and very gently pull out of her. She whimpers at the emptiness and I shush her gently, sliding down between her legs. I lift them over my shoulders and she looks down at me, panting. “Shh, baby, gonna make you feel better, I promise.” I close my eyes as my tongue meets her swollen clit, and I apply just the right amount of pressure. 

When I close my lips around her clit, I know what’s going to happen. She cries out, legs pressing against my head, and I wrap my hands around those beautiful, trembling thighs. I’m not taking my time here. I’m making her feel better, I’m making her come, and I want to taste every fucking second of it. Letting my tongue drift self-indulgently into her pussy, I groan at the taste there, at the way her arousal is just everywhere. I’ve never been with someone who gets this wet and I go absolutely fucking wild for it.

“Colson!” she cries out, pushing both hands needily into my hair as her body hunches, trembling beneath me. “Ohh, fuck, I’m gonna come–”

I moan against her, pulling her closer as I prepare myself, and my eyes slip closed in pure bliss as she bucks against me, her orgasm causing her pussy to flex against my mouth. I moan, enjoying every second, and god, I don’t want this to end, I want to be back inside her so bad, but that can wait. We have all the time in the world to do this all again. 

Finally, I rest my head against her thigh and pant. We both struggle to catch our breath, her hand still weakly in my hair, my face covered in her release, filled condom still wrapped around my cock. I wince at the latter sensation and finally pull back, rolling the latex off of me. I sigh in relief and toss it into the trash, then settle into bed beside her. 

She rolls her head over to look at me and she’s so blissed out that it takes my breath away. Her green eyes are glazed, her lips are red, and her mouth hangs open. She smiles softly at me and leans in for a kiss. I pull her close, savoring her kiss, and finally hum as I pull back. “Hey,” I murmur. “You need to pee.”

“How would you know?” she scoffs, and I laugh.

“I mean, I don’t know if you have to pee, but you need to so you don’t get an infection,” I explain.

She lifts a brow. “You’re smart, Colson Baker,” she says, and I grin sheepishly. She smiles too and gives me one more kiss before rolling out of bed and walking on trembling legs to the bathroom. “Don’t listen!” she yells from the bathroom and I laugh, rolling onto my back.

“Can’t help it,” I call back. “It’s quiet in here.”

Presley groans and I snicker, burying myself in the blankets to give her some privacy. Holy shit. Presley just gave me her virginity. We told each other we love each other. I can’t believe everything that has happened in such a short period of time. 

I open my eyes when I feel the blankets lift, and I open an arm for my girlfriend, for the woman I love. She settles into my chest and sighs. I smile and kiss her forehead. “I mean it, Pres,” I murmur. “I love you.”

“Yeah,” she says, tracing one of my tattoos. “I mean it, too. I love you, too, Colson.”

I can’t help but smile. I’m not sure I’ll ever get tired of hearing that. “How is this real?” I ask.

Presley laughs softly. “I don’t know. I’m not complaining.”

“You okay, baby?” I ask.

She nods. “Yeah. I really am. It’s you, Col. I trust you so much,” she says, looking up at me. “Thank you for making it perfect. You take such good care of me.”

“I always will,” I tell her, and she softens, leaning in to kiss me. 

As we lie here together in my bed, kissing and cuddling and talking, I realize I’ve never been happier. Presley was right. I should’ve given a relationship a chance. And I’m so glad I did, because Presley is absolutely everything to me. I can see our life together unfolding and it doesn’t scare me. 

All it does is make me super fucking happy.

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly smut #machine gun kelly fanfic #machine gun kelly x ofc #mgk #mgk smut #mgk fanfic #mgk x ofc #colson #colson smut #colson fanfic #colson x ofc #colson baker #colson baker smut #colson baker x ofc #colson baker fanfic

[hollywoodxwhore]

Mine | Chapter 14

Colson x Original Female Character

Synopsis: Presley may look sinful on the outside, but deep down, she's innocent, guarded, and terrified of intimacy. Colson, on the other hand, is living up to his womanizer reputation as a way to cope with heartbreak. When his new guitarist invites his twin sister to join them on tour, Colson discovers that he's actually capable of feeling. Will Presley and Colson be able to push past all of the barriers trying to prevent them from happening?

Warnings/Content: Smut (18+), angst, sad col & presley, cash being lovable again, emotions & crying, makeup sex, swearing

Tags: Let me know if you want to be added/removed from being tagged :) @triplexdoublex @jaxbreaker @mgklove99xx @jinx-on-mars-19xx @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker @missamericanaxx @anonymousme86 @whiteleoqueen

Presley

I’m lost. 

A big part of me misses Colson so much that it physically hurts. It’s even worse having to be around him all the time. But another part of me is so shaken from him leaving. I haven’t felt ready to go back to him. What if he does it again? What if he abandons me?

I learned something when Colson left: I’m terrifyingly attached to him.

They say you become attached when you lose your virginity, but I think it’s more than that. I’m attached to our emotional connection. The sex is amazing, yes, but we connected so deeply before that. Colson was the first person who got me to open up about my fear of intimacy. He’s the first person who’s ever taken the time to really look into me, to give me a chance to explain myself. And he loved me for it anyway. 

I know he still loves me. He’s been patient and sweet, but I can tell this is hurting him, too. He only has a few shows left, and the thought of this ruining the end of his tour makes me sick. He doesn’t deserve that. He doesn’t deserve the radio silence I’ve given him. I don’t know if he and Cash have talked, but all I know is I’m miserable. But for some reason, I can’t bring myself to talk to him. 

I’m curled around a pillow in my hotel room when a knock at the door startles me. Quietly, I tiptoe over to the door and peek out the peephole, relaxing when I see that it’s Cash. I open the door and he slides in. I grimace. “You smell like cigarettes,” I say.

“I know, sorry,” he says, walking past me to sit on the couch in my hotel room. 

“Can I help you?” I ask.

Cash looks me up and down disapprovingly. “Jesus. You sick?” he asks.

“Fuck you,” I mutter, plopping onto the bed. Sure, I’ve looked better. Sweatpants, giant t-shirt, greasy hair in a bun isn’t my best look. Paired with the mascara that’s probably streaked on my face from crying, I’m sure I look downright scary. But he doesn’t have to be a dick. “Why are you even here?”

“Good to see you, too, dear sister,” he says dryly.

I stare at him. “Why are you in such a good mood?”

Cash shrugs, pushing back his curls. “Kells and I made up,” he explains. The sound of Colson’s name is like a knife to my gut, but at the mention of their making up, my heart rises a little. 

“Oh,” I say. 

“Pres,” he says. “You know I approve of you two together, right?”

I lift my head, looking at him warily. “I mean, I know you feel bad, but you mean that?” I ask. “You actually approve?”

Cash nods. “I’ve never seen you so happy,” he says. “Well, not right now.” I flip him off. “But I mean it. Since you’ve been here with us, you’ve been so happy, and now I know why.”

I bite my lip hard, throat tightening. “He makes me really happy, Cash,” I say tightly, trying not to cry but tears well up in my eyes. I swallow hard. “I’m so scared.”

Cash frowns and gets up, coming over to sit next to me. He wraps an arm around me and pulls my head to his shoulder. “Of what?” he asks softly. 

I sniff, tears starting to fall. “Our lives are so different,” I sob. 

“Not really,” Cash says.

“Oh really?” I ask, lifting my head to look at him. “I’m a piercer. A homebody. Colson travels the world and makes music and goes to award shows and parties and shit.”

“So why can’t you do all those things, too?” Cash asks, pulling my head back to his shoulder.

I sigh. “I don’t know,” I mutter. “I can’t just…not work.”

“Who says you wouldn’t work?” Cash asks. “I’m sure we could find something for you.”

“Cash, I don’t even know if Colson wants that,” I say, but I know it’s a lie, deep down. Colson wants me with him, no matter how that looks. “Fuck,” I mutter.

“You guys need to talk,” he says. “He was scared, too, Pres. That's why he ran. Aren’t you doing the same thing to him?”

I consider this for a second, and then I groan. “I hate when you’re right,” I mutter unhappily.

Cash actually giggles. “I love when I’m right,” he says. I shove him away from me but my tears are slowing. I wipe off my face and stand up. 

“Fine,” I say. “I’ll talk to him.”

Cash winces. “Pres?”

“What?”

“You should probably shower first.”

“Yeah. On it.” My tone is flat and I flip him off once more before turning to head towards the bathroom. I pause, glancing back at him. “Cash?” He looks up at me. “Thanks.”

Cash grins crookedly. “Love you. Good luck,” he says, getting up to leave. “Just don’t give me any mini Machine Gun nieces or nephews yet.”

“Bye, Cash,” I say firmly, and the sounds of his laughter follow him down the hall. 

XX

My shower is long, luxurious, and much needed.

I shave. I deep condition my hair. I slather on sweet smelling lotion after, brush my teeth, and run a blow dryer through my hair until it’s not soaking wet. I don’t bother with makeup, opting for moisturizer only. Colson likes me with or without makeup. Loves me with or without it. 

From my suitcase, I pull out a simple pair of black panties, then slip on a pair of sweats over them. I put on a tank, check my appearance one more time, then text Colson with shaky hands to come to my room. I’m half convinced that he’ll ignore me, that this is it for us, and when he doesn’t respond, my heart sinks. 

Until I hear a knock on my door. 

I try not to sprint to the peephole, and when I see Colson outside, my heart could just about burst with affection. I open the door and look right up into those gorgeous blue eyes. He looks a little surprised when I open the door and he gives me a crooked little smile.

“Hey,” he breathes.

“Hi,” I say, smiling softly. “Come in?”

He nods and walks in as I step aside. I let the door close behind us and watch him as he lopes into my room, hands in the pockets of his sweats. He looks so cozy in his sweats and hoodie, slippers on his feet. He turns around and looks at me.

“Were you about to go to bed?” I ask.

He shrugs. “I guess,” he says. He finally takes a second to look me up and down and he swallows. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” I say quietly, biting my lip. 

“Look–” “Pres–”

We speak in unison and we both laugh nervously. “Colson,” I say. 

“Pres, I’m so fucking sorry for leaving,” he interrupts. He takes a tentative step closer to me, and it’s then that I really see just how red his eyes are. It breaks me. “I got scared. I thought you’d pick Cash over me and we’d be done and that was too much for me to handle, I guess,” he explains.

I nod. “I was scared, too,” I say. “I still am.” I shake my head. “But I did the same thing to you. I ran.”

“I understand,” he says, but his voice is so full of pain and my fingers twitch at my sides, desperate to touch him. 

“Colson, I’m so sorry,” I say thickly. His jaw clenches and his eyes look a little wet when they meet mine. 

“Pres,” he says tightly. “Please. Just. Come here?” 

I look up at him and stare for a second, and finally, I nod. I walk closer to him and I can tell he wants to embrace me as much as I want to do the same to him, but he’s scared. Guarded. I did that. This is my fault. My face crumples and I hang my head, but then Colson is pulling me into his arms and I completely shatter. 

It’s ugly. These aren’t delicate tears that stream seamlessly down my cheeks. No, this is snot-filled, swollen eyed, full-body sobbing that makes it hard to breathe. But if Colson can’t handle me like this, then he isn’t the one for me. 

But of course he can handle it. Because he’s Colson. He’s the man I fell in love with, the best friend I made in such a short time. The person I trust most in this world, who made me love myself. And I almost lost him. Colson scoops me up effortlessly and sits on the bed, placing me on his lap. I curl in on myself and let it all out, the feeling of his arms around me a comfort that I so desperately need. 

“Shh, I’ve got you,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to my forehead. “Let it out, Pres, I’m not going anywhere.”

“M-m-me neither,” I manage wetly. “I’m s-sorry I left.”

“Me too,” Colson whispers, squeezing me a little tighter. “Pres…” He’s quiet but I can hear his heart racing. I don’t move a muscle. “Presley, I love you,” he says finally, and the pieces of heart start to fuse back together. 

Slowly, my sobs start to subside into just tears, and I catch my breath. “I love you, too, Colson,” I tell him, reaching up to touch his cheek. It’s slightly scruffy and I scrape my nails lightly over the scruff. Colson shivers. “Cols…”

“Hm?”

“We have a lot to figure out,” I say quietly. As I unwind myself from his arms, Colson lets me go, and he’s silent and stiff as I sit on the bed beside him, folding my legs. He turns to face me and his expression is one of so much worry and anxiety. I put my hand on his knee and squeeze gently. “Relax.”

His throat bobs and he studies my face. “Talk to me,” he croaks.

I wet my lips. “We need to talk about what this is going to look like,” I say finally. “The tour ends soon.”

Colson nods, pushing a hand through his fluffy hair. “I know,” he mutters. He looks into my eyes. “Pres, don’t go home.” He sits up a little straighter, as if this is the most important thing he’s ever had to say. “Please. Stay with me,” he pleads, taking both my hands. “I’ll take care of you. We can find you a piercing job here or you can be a stay-at-home girlfriend slash go-on-tour girlfriend. I don’t care. I just want you here with me.” Icy blue eyes wander my face desperately.

I let out a shaky breath. “What if–”

“We could ask that question until we die,” he interrupts, and hesitantly, I nod. “If it doesn’t work out,” he says, “then we cross that bridge when we come to it. You know who else lives in LA and is a part of this band? Your brother.”

“I could always move in with him if I had to,” I say, and he nods.

“Exactly.” He lifts a big hand to cup my cheek, and I feel so vulnerable and raw and exhausted and scared and elated. I could move to LA and be with Colson. Who says I can’t? It’s not like I’m leaving all that much behind in Michigan. 

“Okay,” I say finally, nodding.

Colson’s eyes light up and that beautiful smile, the one I love so much, lights up his face. “Okay?” he asks. “You’ll move to LA?”

“Yes,” I say, and I can’t hold back from beaming. 

Colson laughs and hauls me back into his arms, hugging my waist so tightly that it nearly takes my breath away. I breathe him in, clinging to the man I love, my legs wrapping around his waist. Our foreheads are pressed together and we’re laughing, so full of joy and excitement, and then we’re no longer laughing because we’re kissing, and time stands still. 

God, I missed this mouth. 

Nothing melts me quite like a kiss from Colson. His lips are so gentle and warm and soft and he tastes so good and smells even better. I hold his face so he can’t pull back, but I don’t think there was ever a risk of that. He kisses me desperately, hands splaying across my back, and within seconds, I’m turned on. 

Colson sighs into my mouth, and shit, I missed his sounds. I push a hand into his hair and tug, drawing a moan from his throat. I do it again, seeking the same sound, and he moans louder, sliding his hands up under my tank. 

“Colson,” I whimper softly, my heart pattering in my chest. 

“Pres?” he asks, his eyes on mine, and his pupils are blown with arousal. 

“Please,” I say, touching his lips. “Make love to me?”

Colson makes a helpless little sound and leans in again, kissing me hard. I moan as his teeth sink into my lip and tug. “Fuck,” he breathes. “You know I will, baby.”

Moments later, I’m on my back and Colson is on top of me, his sweatshirt and t-shirt discarded onto the floor. One of his big hands is creeping up under my tank top, warm fingertips skimming my stomach, and I shiver, arching at the sensation. I’ve read about makeup sex, seen it in many movies and shows, but nothing compares to it actually happening. Colson and I are going to reconnect, and I have a feeling we’ll be even closer when it’s over. 

I lift my arms as he removes my tank top, and then his eyes are on my chest, rememorizing. I bite my lip as he eyes me, and he slides an arm beneath my back, which pushes my chest up. Then, my nipple is in his hot mouth, and the wet roughness of his tongue has me moaning, my head falling back. My panties dampen immediately. I’m so reactive to him and I think I always will be. 

He takes his time on my chest, and when he pulls back, going up onto his knees, I practically salivate at the sight of his rigid cock through his sweats. He reaches down to adjust himself and I swear I could start panting.  I’ve never wanted anything as badly as I want Colson right now. He catches my expression and smirks, squeezing his cock for me again. “Shit,” I squeak out. “Take them off.”

Colson’s smirk grows and he hops off the bed, letting his sweats pool around his ankles. He steps out of them and grips himself again, this time the only barrier between his hand and his dick a pair of thin boxer briefs. And I can’t help myself. I roll off the bed and sink to my knees.

“Fuck,” Colson says lowly as I slide my hands up his thighs. He looks so dominant and sexy above me, and I admire as much of his body as I can see. He removes his hand, placing it in my hair instead, and I lean in to rest my head against his thigh, my own trembling hand coming up to take the place of where his had just been. Colson grunts softly as I squeeze, finding the shape of him through the black material, and pleasure zips through me at the thought of having him inside me again. 

Hastily, I tug down his boxers and he kicks out of them, but I’m so impatient that he’s in my mouth before the boxers are even fully off. His moan is loud and tortured and his hips jerk, which presses him to the back of my throat. I gag and I start to pull off, embarrassed, but a gentle hand falls to the back of my head. “Oh shit,” he whimpers. “Baby…do that again?”

I look up at him, surprised, and blink before moving forward again, taking him all the way to the back of my throat once more. I gag again, and drool leaks from my mouth, but Colson seems to love it. He’s moaning like I’ve never heard before, and even though gagging isn’t the most pleasant feeling, I’d do it for the rest of my life to keep hearing him moan like that. After a moment, he gently starts to thrust his hips, pushing his cock deep every single time, and my eyes water, nails digging into his thighs, but I love it. 

“Ohhhh god,” Colson moans shakily, head falling back. “Baby, give me your hand.” I do as I’m told and he bends slightly, urging me to wrap my fingers gently around his balls. “Yeah, fuck, just like that. Squeeze ‘em, baby, lightly.” I follow his direction and I feel them tighten in my hand. His moan is shaky and his thighs tremble. As he continues thrusting, I keep applying gentle pressure, and as his moans grow higher and more needy, his balls tighten up so hard that it seems like it must hurt, but then he’s pulling his hips back as hot cum spills from his cock. 

It bursts onto my tongue and chin, immediately dripping down onto my breasts and I sit back on my heels, watching Colson. His eyes are wide, mouth hanging open when he watches his release trickle onto arguably his favorite part of my body, and I don’t know what comes over me, but suddenly, I’m rubbing his cum into my chest, bringing it down to my nipples. “Holy fuck,” he rasps, hand still curled around his dick. “That’s a good fucking girl.” 

Finally, he pants, sinking to his knees in front of me. I watch as he swipes two fingers through his cum and brings them to my mouth. I open up, allowing his fingers entrance, and suck his release off his thick fingers. He moans again, brow furrowing, and I love the power I have over him right now. He does it again until I’m all clean, and by the time he’s done, he’s either hard again or he never went soft in the first place. 

“Clothes off. On the bed,” he demands, and I do as I’m told, settling with my head on the pillows. “Nah,” he says, shaking his head. He lays down and pulls me on top of him. “Get that pussy in my mouth. Now,” he says firmly, and he’s being so direct and bossy and it makes me ache. 

“Wh-what?” I ask.

“Come ride my face,” he insists, pulling my waist. I let him pull me up over his face, and it feels so weird but so hot at the same time. I steady myself on the headboard with my thighs on either side of his head, and when his big hands go to my ass and pull my pussy to his mouth, the moan I release is unfamiliar to my own ears. Pleasure shoots through me and my thighs automatically clench around his head. He moans, digging his fingertips into my ass, keeping me there. 

I can physically feel my body react: my nipples stiffening, my spine going rigid, my hands clenching on the headboard. I give into the pleasure, and after a moment, I can’t help but roll my hips. Colson moans again and lets go of my ass with one hand to reach down and squeeze his dick. He loves this, and that turns me on even more, to the point where I can feel my own desire on my thighs and on his cheeks. But I’m not embarrassed. Not with Colson.

His hand returns to my ass, and I gasp, entire body stiffening when his middle fingers grazes between my cheeks. “Cols,” I manage, confused but not mad about it. He just hums against me and lets his finger circle a part of me that I never associated with sexual pleasure. But something about it is erotic and I give into the pleasure, arching my back to open myself up more for him. His finger moves down, gathering some of my slick, and uses it as lubricant to gently ease a finger inside my ass. 

My cheeks are beet red, and I take back what I said about not being embarrassed. This is scary, but it feels good, and I’m embarrassed by how much I’m enjoying it, embarrassed at the fact that with one simple motion, I’m all of a sudden hovering on the threshold of coming. Colson teases me, his tongue working wonders against my clit as his finger moves slowly, and with a broken cry, my hips jerk and I come hard. 

I whine and roll and circle my hips through my peak, my eyes squeezing so tightly shut that I see stars. Finally, I slump, and he eases his finger out of me, gently pulling my hips back so he can breathe. He pants and smirks up at me, licking his lips. Shakily, I climb off him and lie beside him, panting. “Shit, Cols,” I manage, and he chuckles. 

“Was that okay?” he asks, resting a hand on my belly. 

I look at him and nod. He grins and kisses me softly, and I should hate that I can taste myself, but I don’t. Colson kisses me for a long few minutes, and then his hand is back between my legs. “Need to be inside of you,” he murmurs, and I moan, nodding quickly. “Can we try something new?” he asks. 

“Of course,” I say. He rolls onto his back again and pulls me on top of him. I raise a brow. “Y-you want me to ride you?” I ask.

Colson smirks. “Fuck yeah, baby. That okay?”

I nod and swallow hard, nervous that I’ll be bad, but I trust Colson. He maneuvers me right where I need to be and lifts my hips so I hover over him. With one hand on my hip and the other holding his cock, he guides me down on him, and my jaw drops at the way he feels sliding through my walls until he’s home. I gasp at the depth, at the way the head of his cock rests right against my spot, and my legs tremble on either side of him.

“Want you to move your hips just like you did on my face, okay?” he says tightly, cheeks flushed with pleasure. I nod and wet my lips, placing my hands on his chest before rolling my hips experimentally. Pleasure explodes when his cock rubs perfectly against my spot, and the stuttered moan that leaves me surprises both of us. “Good?” Colson asks, blue eyes dancing in the low light. 

“Good,” I whimper, doing it again. This time, Colson moans, too, and his sounds encourage me to keep moving, to keep rolling my hips forward so he can grind against the spot that makes my skin tingle. “H-holy shit, baby,” I whine.

Colson’s hands go to my ass and he helps me move faster, harder. I just came, and it’s not going to take long for it to happen again. “Fuck, come here,” he begs, pulling me down so we’re chest to chest and kissing. I kiss him hard, bitingly, and he moans into my mouth, his hands caressing my ass and hips and waist. He starts to lift his hips in time with mine, and my spot is so deliciously abused that the whines and whimpers that leave me are almost constant and totally uncontrollable. 

“Cols,” I manage, and that’s all I can do before I break. Pleasure explodes deep inside of me, rushing down to my curling toes and bringing goosebumps to every inch of my flesh. My hips jerk and roll and rut and Colson holds me tightly, his face buried in my neck. 

“Fuck,” he gasps against my skin, and he tries to lift my hips but I force them back down, tightening my muscles to stay on him. Colson curses and his hips jerk as he comes, too, and the sensation is strange and new but nice. He pulses inside me, and his release is warm against where I’m still throbbing. Our hips jerk against one another’s and our noises mingle in the room, and at the same time, we finally go still. 

Colson’s face is still buried against my neck and he’s gone quiet, his body trembling. I hold him close, tracing my nails gently up and down his arm as I come down, but then, my neck is wet. I freeze when I realize what’s happening.

Colson is crying.

It isn’t just teary eyes this time. It’s real, and his breath is shaky and his hands tremble against my back. “Cols,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Baby, it’s okay, I’m not going anywhere.”

He doesn’t say anything, just keeps crying silently, and I think I should probably be startled, but for some reason, it makes sense to me. I cried the first night he touched me. Emotional release, he called it. Now it’s his turn. 

We’re still locked together, as close as two people can be, and though I can feel that he’s not as hard anymore, I don’t move. I can’t move. The thought of being away from him makes me feel a little sick. But finally, he starts to calm down, his breathing evening out. He presses a kiss to my neck. “You need to go clean up,” he rasps.

“It’s okay, baby,” I insist. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to.”

“Nah, baby,” he says. “Go pee. Clean up and come back to me.”

I nod and he helps me to lift my hips, both of us hissing as we disconnect. I grimace as I feel his cum dripping down my thighs, and I shove my hand between my legs to try and catch it while I waddle into the bathroom. After peeing and cleaning up like I was told, I return to find Colson tucked under the blanket, his bare, colorful chest on display, and the sight of his slightly swollen eyes breaks me. 

I hurry back into bed, snuggling right up to him, our legs tangling as strong arms envelop me. We’re quiet for a beat, my head on his warm chest, and all of a sudden, I’m drowsy. I haven’t been sleeping well without him, and I’m sure he’s in the same boat. He reaches over and turns off the light.

“Hey,” I whisper. “I love you. You know that, right?”

Colson hums and finds my lips in the dark. “I love you, Pres,” he murmurs. “I won’t leave again. I promise.”

“Me neither,” I assure him. “You tired?” “Fucking exhausted,” he admits. “You?”

“Yes,” I agree. “Let’s go to sleep, baby.”

With that, we snuggle closer, our limbs intertwined, and we fall into oblivion quickly, finally feeling safe again.

#mgk #machine gun kelly #colson baker #mgk fanfic #machine gun kelly fanfic #colson baker fanfic #mgk smut #machine gun kelly smut #colson baker smut #mgk x ofc #machine gun kelly x ofc #colson baker x ofc

[hollywoodxwhore]

Mine | Chapter Twelve

Colson x Original Female Character

Synopsis: Presley may look sinful on the outside, but deep down, she's innocent, guarded, and terrified of intimacy. Colson, on the other hand, is living up to his womanizer reputation as a way to cope with heartbreak. When his new guitarist invites his twin sister to join them on tour, Colson discovers that he's actually capable of feeling. Will Presley and Colson be able to push past all of the barriers trying to prevent them from happening?

Content/Warnings: Smut (18+, it isn't much but it's there), getting walked in on, angst, swearing, physical fighting, blood, all the emotion

Shoutout to everyone who messages me, reblogs/comments/likes these chapters, and all the anons who give me so much love on a daily basis. Y'all really encourage me to keep writing and posting. Also...this chapter hurts. You've been warned.

Presley

Two weeks left. Just two weeks until Colson and I can stop hiding and finally tell everyone our secret. 

I’m so sick of waiting. It’s so painful not to be all over Colson like I want to be. It sucks to watch him from across the room knowing how much he wants me beside him but knowing that we can’t, not with Cash around. All the while, Cash snuggles up to Olivia. Kisses her. Holds her hand. Scoops her into his arms when he runs offstage. I hate him.

I don’t hate him. He’s my brother. My best friend. But I’m so angry with him that it makes me sick. And if he reacts poorly to my and Colson’s relationship, I’m going to see red. 

Our next show is in Olivia’s hometown, so we’re all staying at her parents’ huge house. They’re out of town for work which Liv says is pretty typical. The house is two stories and gigantic, with a huge pool out back, a basement with a gigantic sectional and a pool table, darts, and a table created specifically for beer pong. It’s the perfect set up for a bunch of people who like to party.

My one drink limit is now down to zero. I will never drink again after the hangover I had. Jesus. I puked all morning, and I did not like Colson having to see me like that. But he was amazing, as always, rubbing my back, getting me water, and taking care of me. When it feels like I can’t keep this secret anymore, I just look at Colson and remind myself how much he loves me and how nice it will be once we no longer have to hide.

It’s late in the evening and we’re all out by the pool. Cash and Baze are grilling burgers for everyone and us girls hang by the pool, sitting on the ledge with our feet in the water. The rest of the guys are gathered around a table, sipping beers and chatting. 

Every once in a while, I’ll take a second to just soak up my surroundings, my situation. Months ago, I was home, lonely in a one-bedroom apartment, doing nothing but working and playing the occasional show. I thought that was all there was to life. Now, I’m surrounded by people I consider close friends, traveling almost every single night, and in a happy, healthy relationship. I don’t know what I did to deserve all this, but I’m not complaining. 

I haven’t told Ashleigh yet about what’s going on with me and Colson. She and him have been friends for so long that I’m scared of how she’ll react. Until she brings it up or we confess to Cash, I’m keeping it a secret. When I can get a second alone with Olivia, she checks up on me and reassures me that everything will be okay. 

I glance over at Colson for the millionth time, and this time, he catches my eye. His smile is so small that no one else would be likely to notice, but I see it. He looks gorgeous as always in a backwards hat, shirtless in nothing but a pair of swim trunks. Nice and short, showing off those skinny legs, just how I like it. What I wouldn’t give to go over and sit on his lap, to take his face in my hands and kiss him. It hurts not being able to do that. 

I sigh quietly and grab my phone from where it’s sitting on the pavement beside me. I open up my text thread with Colson and send, Meet me in the basement in 5?

I watch as Colson picks up his phone and reads the message. He types something quickly, sets his phone back down, and returns to his conversation like nothing happened. My phone buzzes in my hand and I read the message. Can’t wait. 

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom,” I tell the girls, standing up. I dry my feet off on my towel and then slip inside the air conditioned house, shivering at the chill. I glance out the sliding door to make sure no one followed me, and then sneak into the basement. The next five minutes are torture, waiting for Colson to join me. 

The basement door opens and I hear footsteps, and for a second, I’m worried it isn’t Colson, but then I see his long legs tromping down the stairs. He grins when he sees me, and immediately, I’m in his arms. I giggle as he kisses all over my face, squeezing me to his chest. “I missed you,” he mumbles against my skin. 

“Missed you more,” I tell him. He pulls back a little to look down at me, and his eyes darken. My breath hitches and I swallow hard. “Do you think we have time?” I whisper.

“I need us to have time,” he says, gripping my hips to guide me around the pool table. He turns me so I’m facing the stairs, my back to him, and he caresses my waist. His lips press to my neck and I sigh, tilting my head to give him more access to my sensitive skin. 

“Mm, come on, baby,” I plead, eyes closing as he tucks my bathing suit to the side and brings his fingers between my legs, finding me wet from just the idea of him fucking me. 

He groans softly and spreads my arousal around. “Fuck,” he grunts. “So wet already. Can I fuck you, baby?”

“Of course,” I say hastily, arching my back a little. 

“Fuck,” Colson breathes, and then I can hear him taking down his swim trunks. I gasp when I feel the head of his cock against my entrance, and I do my best to stifle a whimper as he bends his knees and slides in. “Missed you so much,” he sighs as he pushes in to the hilt. 

I shiver and close my eyes, biting my lip hard. I grip the table with shaking hands. “M-missed you, too,” I manage. “Fuck, Cols–”

Colson picks up his pace right away, gripping my hips firmly, and I whine in the back of my throat, hanging my head. It’s so hard not to moan, not to cry out his name when he’s filling me so perfectly. I can tell Colson is trying to conceal his moans, too, letting nothing but soft grunts and sighs slip past his lips. 

“More,” I beg, and Colson listens, pressing me harder into the table to fuck me faster. The head of his cock is slamming right into my g-spot and I bite my lip so hard I taste blood to stifle my sounds. I whimper when I feel myself starting to pulse around him, when out of nowhere–

“What the fuck?”

Oh no.

Oh, god no.

Cash.

My eyes fly open and with a curse, Colson pulls back from me, yanking his shorts back up hastily. My heart is pounding so hard that Colson can probably hear it. Cash stands at the bottom of the stairs, stock still, looking back and forth between me and Colson. He’s breathing hard and his face is red. He is pissed. Furious. 

“Cash,” I say warningly, but he shakes his head.

“Nah, I’m not doing this.” He throws up his hands and starts up the stairs.

“Cash, wait!” I call, coming around from behind the table. 

“No, you can both fuck off,” he says, pausing before coming back down the stairs. “And you,” he says to Colson, coming a little closer. Colson stands stiffly behind the pool table, jaw clenched and mouth shut. “You. I told you not to fucking do that. Fuck you, Kells.” With that, he turns and storms up the stairs, leaving me and Colson in his wake. 

“Fuck,” I say weakly, covering my face with my hands as tears well in my eyes.

Colson comes over and wraps my shaking body in his arms. “It’s okay,” he says quietly. “It’ll be okay.”

“This is the worst possible way for him to find out,” I whine, burying my face in his chest. “I need to talk to him.”

“Not now,” Colson says after a moment’s hesitation.

“Yeah,” I agree. “Not a good idea when he’s raging like this.” I bite my lip. “What do we do, Col?” I pull back from the embrace to look up at him.

Colson smiles weakly but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Guess we don’t have to hide anymore,” he says halfheartedly. 

I sigh and rest my forehead against his chest. Fuck. This is so, so bad. 

Colson

Presley and I don’t bother to rejoin the group. We take separate showers and retreat to our separate rooms. The plan was for her to sneak into my room after everyone else is asleep but I doubt that’ll be happening now. With Cash as fired up as he is, we definitely don’t need to be throwing it in his face. 

I don’t know what to do. I have to fix this. I can’t let this fuck up Presley’s relationship with Cash, and I don’t want to lose him as a friend, either. Yeah, it will suck for the band if he leaves, but I care more about the relationships at risk. Rook knows, of course, but will the others hate me, too? My stomach is so knotted with anxiety that it physically hurts not to curl up in the fetal position. 

I must lie there for hours trying to fall asleep, but I already struggle to sleep without Pres beside me, and with the anxiety I’m feeling, there’s no way I’m getting any shut eye tonight. I have to do something about this. I can’t go to bed this way. 

Finally, I roll out of bed and head quietly down to the kitchen. I never got to have a burger, so I’m starving, even though my stomach hurts. I might as well try to eat something. I pause outside the kitchen when I see the light is already on. It’s past two in the morning now, and the house is quiet. I didn’t think anyone else was up. I tell myself to chill. It could be anyone. It’s very unlikely that it’s…

Cash. Shit. He stands in front of the open fridge, but he turns around when he sees me. His nostrils flare and his eyes darken. “You motherfucker,” he says, and then, he’s lunging at me. 

It startles me so much that I don’t block the first punch. Cash’s tattooed knuckles slam right into my cheekbone and I wince, but it’s not the first time I’ve been punched and it probably won’t be the last. I take a step back when he swings again, and the third time, I catch his fist. He snarls and swings at me with the other fist, and when he misses, adrenaline must kick in because he backs me up and slams me into the wall with more force than I thought he was capable of inflicting. My head knocks back against the wall and I see stars for a second. And then, his fist collides with my nose.

“Cash, fuck, stop!” I roar, and fuck, I don’t want to hit him back, but he just keeps coming, and a guy can only take so much. Especially when I’m mad as fuck at him, too. When he rears back his fist, I throw mine and hit him hard. Blood flies and he collapses backwards into the island.

“What the fuck is going on?” Slim yells, running into the kitchen followed by Baze and Justin. When he sees Cash lunge at me again, he and Justin cut him off, holding him back. He’s like a caged lion, trying to get to his prey, gnashing his teeth as blood drips from his nose.

I’m panting hard, and Baze grabs my arm, but I shake him off. I’m not going for the kid again. I just needed him to stop hitting me. I swipe my hand across my face and it comes away bloody. I’m not as mad as I should be. The fight seems to slowly go out of Cash and we’re all quiet, the eye of the storm.

Until Hurricane Presley enters. 

“What the fuck?” she cries, looking between me and Cash. She can obviously tell I’m more beaten up than her brother, and she quickly decides on her victim. Her nostrils flare and her eyes darken just like her twin’s, and suddenly, the resemblance is uncanny. The only difference is that Presley scares me and Cash doesn’t. 

She zeroes in on Cash and even Slim and Justin know to back away. “Cash David Carver, I’m going to fucking kill you!” she screams, and I’ve never heard her this way, almost feral. She lunges at Cash and, despite him having four inches on her, she throws him to the ground with ease. “You motherfucker! How dare you! Colson doesn’t deserve that!” She’s not even hitting him, she’s just sitting on his chest pinning his arms down with her knees. “What is wrong with you!” she yells. 

The rest of us are dead silent. No one expected this to happen tonight. Rook, Ash, and Olivia eventually find their way to the kitchen, too. When Olivia sees Cash, her eyes widen. “Oh my god!” she says. “Cash–”

“Get away from us,” Presley snarls, and my blood runs cold. Holy shit. My girlfriend is scary when she’s furious. She turns back to Cash and looks down at him. He looks a little scared and he doesn’t fight against her. Before any of us can predict it, Presley’s hand winds back and she smacks him across the face so hard that each and every one of us cringes, a few “oooh”s rising. 

With that, Presley gets to her feet and goes to the sink, ripping off a paper towel. She gets it wet and then makes her way to me. She bunches up the towel and gently dabs at my face. My eyelashes flutter at her gentle touch. Cash has to get over this. He has to. We love each other. Pres gently wipes off the blood, examining my face with her beautiful eyes. “There,” she says softly. “I think that’s all. You okay, baby?”

“I’m fine,” I say quietly. Presley nods and then leans in, kissing me softly. 

“What the fuck?” Slim says, looking over at Rook who’s stone faced. “You knew, man?”

“Sorry,” Rook says, but he doesn’t sound sorry. 

“Who the fuck else knew?”

“Just me,” Olivia says quietly. Cash is sitting against the island now and he looks over at Olivia, his eyes flashing with pain. 

“Oh, this is so fucked up,” he croaks, getting to his feet. “I’m out.” With that, he sulks out of the kitchen and towards the stairs.

“Cash, wait!” Liv calls, scurrying after him, leaving the rest of us standing in the kitchen. 

Justin clears his throat. “Um. Explain?” he asks.

Presley looks up at me and I clear my throat. “Presley and I are together,” I say slowly. “She’s my girlfriend.” I gain confidence the more I speak and I stand up a little straighter. “And I love her. I don’t give a fuck what any of y’all think, I’m not a manwhore who can’t keep his dick in his pants, ight? I’m capable of falling in love and I have. I’ve found the girl I want to be with forever. And if anyone else has shit to say about it, take a look at Cash’s face and decide if that’s the right move.” I’m breathing hard when I’m done, but I soften when Presley wraps her arm around my waist. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and tug her close.

“Dude,” Slim says, and that’s when I realize he’s smiling. So are Justin, Baze, and Ashleigh.

Baze laughs and shakes his head. “You crazy motherfucker,” he says. “I’m so happy for you.”

“Same,” Slim says with a chuckle. “You two look great together.”

“If you’re happy, we’re happy,” Justin adds.

“I’m just mad you didn’t tell me,” Ash says. 

I relax immediately, pressing a kiss to Presley’s forehead. “Thanks,” I croak. “But Cash hates me. He told me when Pres first joined us to stay away from her. Clearly I didn’t listen.”

The boys wince. “But that’s not fair,” Presley says. “I’m 23 years old, just like Cash. It’s not up to him who I date.” 

“True,” Slim says with a nod. 

“Probably just weird to see his sister with his friend,” Rook says quietly. “Not saying he did the right thing, just…saying.”

I sigh softly, suddenly exhausted. I can’t believe I hit Cash. Fuck. When I hear Presley sniffle, I look down, and I can see her silently crying. “Hey,” I say softly, holding her face. “Are you okay?” 

She sniffs again. “This is so messed up,” she whimpers. “Cash is my best friend. I can’t believe he hit you.”

“I hit him back,” I say.

“Of course you did,” she says. “Was he coming at you?” I hesitate, then nod. “Exactly. Self-defense.” She wipes her eyes. “God, I’m so mad at him.”

“I know,” I say softly. 

“But he’s hurt,” she says. “I need to go check on him.”

I nod and let her go. “Okay.” Presley takes a deep breath and then leaves the kitchen. I groan and sink to the ground, tearing my hands through my hair. “Jesus Christ,” I mutter.

“It’s gonna be fine, dude,” Slim says. “Cash’ll get over it.”

“I don’t know,” I croak. “What if he doesn’t? Pres won’t choose me over her brother.” And there it is. That’s what I’m really scared of. Cash will never approve, and Presley will never choose a guy over her family, and she’ll break my fucking heart. Suddenly, it’s all too much. All of the emotions that I held in for 29 years, all of the anger and fear and love and joy and misery, and much to my horror, I start to cry in front of my friends, the toughest dudes I know. 

But then the toughest dudes I know are sitting next to me, pulling me into their arms. “It’s okay, bro, it’s all good,” Slim soothes. 

“It’s alright, Kells,” Baze adds. 

Ash hands me a tissue and sits down on the floor. Thank god for these friends. I would be totally lost without them. We sit there for a long time, and Presley, Cash, and Olivia never resurface. I need to get up and check on Presley, but I’m so scared to talk to her. 

“Ash,” I say. “Will you go check on Pres?”

“Of course.” Ash gets to her feet and heads upstairs. Five minutes later, she’s back down, and she looks apprehensive. “Cash and Olivia are locked in her room and Presley is locked in hers.”

“Fuck,” I mutter. “I gotta go check on Presley.” I get to my feet and hug my brothers, then take a deep breath and head up the stairs to find my girl. 

Sure enough, her door is locked and I rap softly. “Pres, baby, it’s Colson.”

Silence.

My gut twists. “Pres?” I knock again. Nothing. I let my forehead fall against the door and I sigh shakily, closing my eyes. I can’t do this. I got into a physical fight with one of my close friends, my girlfriend is locked in her room ignoring me, and I cried for the first time in years in front of my friends. Everything is such a fucking mess.

And I can’t handle it.

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly fanfic #machine gun kelly smut #machine gun kelly x ofc #mgk #mgk fanfic #mgk smut #mgk x ofc #colson #colson fanfic #colson smut #colson x ofc #colson baker #colson baker fanfic #colson baker smut #colson baker x ofc

[hollywoodxwhore]

Mine | Chapter Eleven

Colson x Original Female Character

Synopsis: Presley may look sinful on the outside, but deep down, she's innocent, guarded, and terrified of intimacy. Colson, on the other hand, is living up to his womanizer reputation as a way to cope with heartbreak. When his new guitarist invites his twin sister to join them on tour, Colson discovers that he's actually capable of feeling. Will Presley and Colson be able to push past all of the barriers trying to prevent them from happening?

Warnings/Content: Smut (18+), fingering, p in v sex, alcohol usage, drunk presley, mentions of vomiting when hungover, unprotected sex, drunk sex, angst

I hope y'all know that every chapter from here on out will have smut lmao

Presley

One of my favorite things is waking up before Colson.

Although he’s shown so much vulnerability with me, I know he hasn’t completely let himself go yet. I know he was on the verge of tears last night but that he wouldn’t let them out. I wonder when the last time he cried was. 

But in the mornings, when he’s still asleep, he can’t be anything but vulnerable. And he’s so cute when he sleeps. Although most mornings I’ll wake up on his chest or the little spoon to his big spoon, every once in a while, he’ll wriggle down the bed so his head is on my chest and my arms are wrapped around him. Today is one of those days. 

I admire the fluffy blonde head on my chest and tilt my head so I can see his face. His long eyelashes create soft shadows on his cheeks. His perfectly plump lips are parted very slightly. His strong jaw is covered in light scruff, which I love, especially when he’s between my legs, and all of a sudden, my admiration turns into arousal.

I shift a little beneath him, and realize there’s a slight ache between my legs. It makes sense. Colson is huge. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting him again. 

It’s so surreal to think that I lost my virginity last night. The general consensus from women is that losing your virginity is miserable and it hurts, and that it takes a few times for it to feel good. After last night, I’m realizing that those poor women all lost their virginities to guys who didn’t care or know enough to get them ready beforehand. Colson made me come before he was even inside of me, and even before that, he got me wet. He didn’t rush me at all and he was gentle. And fuck, it felt good.

His fingers are long and thick and those feel amazing, but nothing can compare to the feeling of Colson’s cock fitting so tightly inside of me. It reached places that nothing else had before, and the pressure was so painfully pleasurable. I want more. 

I push his hair back and press a kiss to his forehead. He stirs a bit but his eyes stay closed. I kiss his temple and then lift my head a little so I can kiss his cheek. He shifts again and finally opens up those gorgeous blue eyes. He looks at me through a sleepy haze but his eyes flutter closed when I put my mouth on his. 

His soft groan when we kiss pushes me into an even deeper state of desire. His lips part with mine and the kiss is gentle and slow but so, so hot. God. I feel insatiable. Now that I’ve finally had sex after 23 years of celibacy, am I going to be in the mood constantly? And if so, do I even mind?

Colson’s body seems to finally wake up and he tightens his grip on me, his big hand sliding up my ribcage. He makes me feel so small beneath him even though I’m not. Another reason I’ve been self-conscious is because I’m either taller than most guys or pretty close in height. I wouldn’t mind dating a short guy, but they get weird about tall girls. Good thing Colson is a giant.

In more ways than one. His cock starts to fill and as his hips shift, I feel it press into my thigh. I moan softly and wrap my leg around his waist. He pulls me even closer somehow, wrapping me so safely in his arms. I love how he smells in the morning, how he tastes. Before I met Colson, I grimaced at the thought of morning sex and kissing in the morning because of the obvious morning breath, but it doesn’t bother me with Colson. I barely notice. I think he could go without showering for a month and I’d still want him. That’s how deep I am in all of this. 

I gasp softly when his hand grips my ass, squeezing gently. He finally breaks the kiss and grins sleepily at me. “I like this wake up call,” he rasps, voice gravelly from sleep, and the sound shoots right between my legs. “What did I do to deserve all this?” he asks. 

I stare into his eyes and melt a little more. The fact that he feels so honored to be with me is a confidence boost I so desperately needed. “I’m not sure,” I murmur, “but I was wondering the same thing.”

Colson’s grin widens a little and he slides a hand into my hair to hold my head. “I love you, Presley,” he murmurs, and it feels so special hearing it when we’re not having sex. I know sex releases endorphins and makes people want to say things like that, but I know he means it. 

“I love you, too,” I tell him, pulling his face to mine for another kiss. This one is hungrier, Colson’s perfect teeth grazing my lip. I shiver and moan again, gripping at him. My hand slides from his neck to his biceps, squeezing, and then drifts to his chest to feel his soft skin. As my hand wanders, so does Colson’s. He lets go of my ass to trace long fingers delicately down my neck, and then he palms my breast, his warm hand contrasting with the goosebumps his touch brings. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groans. “You’re killing me. Tell me I can make love to you again.”

I make a helpless little sound and push my hips forward, desperate for his touch. “Please, Cols,” I beg. 

Colson’s eyes are dark when he rolls me gently onto my back and climbs on top of me. “Let me get you ready first,” he murmurs, hand already drifting between my legs to stroke me. My eyes close and I suck in a breath. “You sore, baby?” he asks softly, and I nod. He nods, too. “I’ll be careful, love. I’ll make you feel better. Okay?”

“Okay,” I reply, so full of love I might burst. He smiles at me and his eyes drop to my lips before he kisses me. He pushes my legs apart a little more, and then he’s sliding two fingers inside of me. I’d been so desperate for his touch that it wrenches a moan from me, and Colson pulls back from the kiss, looking a little surprised. 

He chuckles softly. “You okay?” he asks.

“More than,” I say shakily, hips squirming. “More, baby, please–”

Colson moans and kisses me hard, pumping his fingers for a few moments before curving them inside of me. I whimper and arch my back a little, my head starting to become a little hazy with pleasure. The room heats as he keeps fingering me, the heel of his hand grinding into my clit, and I could come from this, but I don’t want to. I want to come with him inside of me. So I wait until I’m on the edge and then I push his hand away. He frowns at me but I just shake my head. “Not yet,” I tell him. He swallows hard and nods, keeping his eyes on mine as he slips his fingers into his mouth. “Fuck,” I whisper.

Colson smirks a little and reaches over to grab a condom from the nightstand. “You sure you can handle this again?” he asks, eyes suddenly filled with concern. “I don’t want to hurt you…”

“I promise,” I say quickly. “Colson, please–”

“Okay, baby, okay,” he says, hastily getting the condom on. He bites his lip as he rubs the head of his cock against my clit. I whimper, brow furrowing, remembering all at once how close I’d been before I made him stop. I’m so desperate that I’m sure I’ll be able to come when we start having sex. 

“Ready?” Colson asks, and I nod. He nods, too, then looks down as he slips himself inside of me. I wince just slightly and Colson sees it. He lets go of his cock and touches my face, shushing me gently as he slowly inches his hips forward. I whimper softly as he fills me, but I just stare into the eyes of the man I love and it’s all okay. 

“Oh fuck,” I breathe when his hips are finally pressed to mine. 

“Okay?” he asks.

“Fuck yes,” I manage, digging my nails into his biceps. His cock is so long that it rests right against my g-spot without him even moving. “H-holy shit, Cols.”

Colson smirks. “Does it feel good, baby?”

“Yes,” I whine. “Move, Col, please.”

Colson nods and looks into my eyes as he slowly starts to move. Every time he thrusts, stars cloud my vision. Holy shit, it feels so good that it almost hurts, but in the very best way. Is this what I have to look forward to for the rest of my life? God, I’m so lucky. 

My mouth hangs open as he fucks into me, and all I can do is take it, letting out little moans and whimpers. Finally, I grab his hip and he looks down at me curiously. “Can we try something new?” I ask.

Colson’s eyes sparkle and he nods. He pulls out and helps me to flip over onto my stomach. “I can get pretty deep like this,” he says. “You promise to tell me if it’s too much?”

“I promise,” I assure him, looking at him over my shoulder. I arch my back a little and Colson moans, taking the opportunity to slip his cock back inside. I shudder at the feeling and as his hips press against my ass, my jaw drops. “Holy fuck,” I whimper. He’s right, he can get really deep like this, but god, it feels fucking perfect. 

“Feel good?” he asks, breathing labored as he starts to move. 

“Y-yes, so good, Colson,” I moan.

“Good,” he murmurs, leaning over me to kiss my shoulder. “Because I want to make you come like this.” His words draw a moan out of me and I clench around him unintentionally. “Oh, fuck baby, that feels so good,” he moans. 

“Mm, Colson,” I whimper, grasping at the sheets. 

“Lift your hips a little, baby,” he instructs, and when I do, he slips his hand underneath my body. Immediately, two fingertips find my clit and start to rub circles. I let out a loud and broken moan at the feeling, legs pressing together. 

“C-Colson,” I gasp, butterflies filling my stomach. “Shit, baby, that feels s-so – oh fuck – so good.” 

“Good girl,” Colson grunts, biting my shoulder gently before kissing the spot. “God, I love you so much.”

I’ve gone completely speechless at this point. All I can do is breathe hard. Every time he thrusts, he grinds so perfectly against my spot and coupled with the way his fingertips circle my clit, I can barely keep my eyes from crossing. I’ve never felt pleasure like this, and all at once, I’m close again, so fucking close.

I cry out, legs starting to convulse, and Colson fucks me just a little bit harder. “Oh fuck, I can feel you, baby, you close?” he manages. 

“Y-yes,” I cry out, eyes squeezing shut. I grip the sheets so hard my knuckles turn white, and then I scream. Pleasure crashes into me so hard that I swear to god I black out for a second. My walls convulse around Colson’s thick cock, squeezing it so hard that he has to slow his movements a little. I’ve never, ever felt anything as good as this. I don’t want it to ever stop, and it takes a long time before it does. 

By then, I realize that Colson is pulling my hips up so I’m on my knees. I keep my face pressed into the bed, ass in the air, and moan as Colson picks up his pace. Big hands curl around my hips and I can hear him panting. “O-oh sh-shit,” he says brokenly, hips jerking against me. “Fuck, Pres, I’m so close–”

I arch my back even deeper and he curses lowly, hands moving to squeeze my ass, and then he pulls me hard against him as he comes. I wish I could see him because if his sounds are any indication of how good this feels for him, his face must be an absolute wonder. Finally, he slumps over me, letting out a weak, “Fuck.” 

Gently, Colson presses my hips down, and as I go onto my stomach, he pulls out. All I can do is lie there boneless, breathing hard. “Holy shit,” I say weakly, closing my eyes. 

“Yeah,” Colson says with a chuckle. He rolls out of bed and gets rid of the condom, and I take a second to admire his body. His long limbs, his perfectly toned abdomen, all of his tattoos. He’s so perfect and he’s mine. I love him so much. I never want to let him go. And that doesn’t scare me for some reason.

He catches me looking at him and he grins, bending over to kiss me. His hand drifts to my ass and squeezes gently. “Go pee,” he whispers, and I groan. He chuckles but grabs my hand, helping me out of bed. My legs almost collapse beneath me and Colson laughs, eyes lighting up. “Okay?”

“Not my fault you made me come that hard,” I say, patting his chest as I walk on shaky legs to the bathroom.

“Not sorry,” Colson says, and I look over my shoulder at him, sticking out my tongue. He winks and my knees weaken even more. 

When I get back in bed, Colson is on me like glue, wrapping himself around me. He hums and nuzzles my neck, and I giggle at the way his fluffy blonde hair tickles my face. I wrap my arms around him and squeeze. He kisses me softly and we both smile. 

“I love you,” I tell him. 

“I love you,” he tells me. We kiss for a few minutes and then he sighs, rolling onto his back. “Fuck, I don’t want to go back to the real world. Can we just stay in my bed and fuck forever?”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” I say, settling my head on his chest. “How many shows are left?”

“Ten,” Colson answers. “But only four weeks.”

I wince. A month until we have to tell Cash about us. I’m mad as fuck at my brother, but I also know this is going to hurt him. I’m not looking forward to confessing. 

But at the same time, he has to understand that I’m happy. He has to understand that this is what’s best for me. We can both have Colson in our lives. Colson being my boyfriend doesn’t really impact their friendship. Cash has to understand.

Right?

Colson

We’re back on the road and it’s making me depressed.

I spent the last week holed up with Presley in my bed, fucking and cuddling and getting to know each other even more. I love her more and more every single day, and I love that I’m distancing myself from the Colson I was just a couple months ago. I don’t want to even look at another girl. All I want is Presley. 

She makes me feel so safe and she loves me for who I am. Although telling Cash is looming on the horizon, I’m not letting it ruin my happiness. I just wish Pres and I didn’t have to hide it now that the tour has started up again. 

We’re at the venue and I’ve just stepped outside to smoke. I hear the door open and when I look over, I spot Rook coming to join me. “Hey brother,” I say, offering him a smoke. He grabs one from the pack and accepts my light. We’re quiet for a few minutes, just enjoying the silence, but then he looks at me. 

“So,” he says. “You gonna tell me about you and Presley?”

I stiffen and clutch my cigarette so hard that it squishes, rendering it useless. “Fuck,” I mutter, dropping it onto the ground and snuffing it out with the heel of my boot. “What are you talking about?” I grunt.

Rook gives me a look that silently communicates what he’s thinking: Be fucking for real right now. I groan and scrub my hands over my face before grabbing and lighting another cigarette. “How did you find out?” I mutter.

Rook shrugs. “Y’all aren’t sneaky, to be honest,” he says. 

My blood runs cold. Does that mean Cash knows? But no, if he did, he would’ve lost his shit by now. “We never even touch.”

“You don’t have to,” Rook says, glancing up at me. “It’s the way y’all look at each other, Kells.”

As scared and upset as I should be, his words make me feel all melty and gooey. Is it that obvious just from our looks? I nod slowly. “Got it,” I say. 

“Why are y’all hiding it?” he asks.

“Cash,” I mutter.

Rook’s brow furrows but then he nods. “Oh. Forgot he told us she was off-limits.”

“Presley’s pissed about it,” I say. “She says it’s none of his business.”

“Well, it isn’t,” Rook agrees. “I get that he’s protective but Presley ain’t his property.”

“Exactly.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Tell him when the tour ends,” I mutter. “Pres and I are worried if we tell him before he’ll ditch the tour.”

“Ah,” Rook says quietly. “That makes sense.”

“He’s gonna hate me, man.”

“Maybe he won’t,” Rook says. “Maybe he’ll be mad at first, but he’ll get over it.” 

I sigh and kind of zone out for a second. “This is all so fucked, Rook,” I say. 

Rook frowns. “Are you happy?”

I look over at him, hesitating. “Rook, I love her,” I finally admit.

Rook’s eyes widen. “Holy shit. Love?” he asks. “So this is real.”

“Of course it’s real,” I snap, frowning at him. “You think I’m just taking advantage of her or some shit?”

“Dude, no,” Rook says, chuckling a little. “Relax. I just mean this isn’t a fling. This is something you want to last for a while.”

“Maybe even forever,” I say quietly. 

Rook whistles low. “Holy shit,” he mutters. “Listen, bro,” he says. “Cash can't tell y’all what to do. If he’s mad, yeah, that shit sucks, but if you’re happy…”

He’s not thinking about what will really happen when we tell Cash. There's a big chance we’ll lose the best guitarist our band has ever seen. 

The show goes well, and when I get off the stage, I immediately spot Presley. I always do. She looks beautiful tonight, as she always does, and I give her a little smile. She smiles back, and it hurts. All I want to do is pick her up and kiss her. She’s all I want. But then I see Cash scooping Olivia into his arms and fury rises in me again. I stalk off down the hall towards my dressing room before I can say something I shouldn’t.

I try to slam the door but I don’t hear it slam. Confused, I turn around, seeing that Presley has caught the door. She steps inside and closes it quietly behind her before turning the lock. I sigh and look her up and down. She’s so beautiful in a long t-shirt that highlights her long legs, Doc Martens on her feet. The look she gives me is knowing and a little sad, and she opens her arms. 

Huffing, I step forward and wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her in close to me. Her scent calms me immediately and I close my eyes, trying to get a hold of my emotions, but it’s hard. There’s never been so much going on in my head at the same time. Love. Fury. Fear. Happiness. Sadness. Confusion. It’s all too much. I focus on the feeling of Presley in my arms, the scent of her hair.

“You okay?” she asks quietly. I hesitate, then shake my head no. She sighs quietly and rubs my back, squeezing me a little tighter. 

“It just isn’t fair,” I mumble into her neck. “That they get to be together and happy and we don’t.”

Pres nods, gently stroking her nails over the back of my neck. I shiver at the sensation and slowly, I start to relax. “We will, babe,” she tells me. “Not much longer now. I promise.” 

I’m already angry anticipating Cash’s reaction. I’m not scared anymore. I’m just pissed. It’s so misogynistic for him to want to control who his sister dates and fucks. It’s none of his business and the longer I stew on it, the angrier I get. How much longer can I keep pretending I’m not furious at the guy? 

“Let’s go out tonight,” she tells me, pulling back from the hug. “Let’s just get drinks and hang out and try to have some fun, yeah?”

I nod. “Yeah.” I still feel all sulky and pissed but she’s right. The others will want to go out, too, and I can’t ruin the vibe. I just have to keep control over myself. 

XX

Going out, as it turns out, was a bad idea. 

In order to distract myself, I drank. A lot. Shot after shot, mixed drink after mixed drink, and I’m wasted right now. Completely wasted. That doesn’t bother me. What bothers me is that Presley, too, is wasted. 

Presley doesn’t drink. She made that very clear when we first met. She has a one-drink limit when she goes out; she prefers smoking. But for whatever reason, she’s had several drinks tonight. It takes a lot less to get her drunk than it does me, but it makes my stomach churn wondering why she would do that. 

I’m sitting at a table right now watching her on the dance floor with Olivia. Both girls are drunk, and they hold hands as they dance. Pres tips her head back, her long, black hair swaying behind her, and her eyes drift closed. She looks beautiful. She always does. And something about her slow movements, her hazy smile…it’s turning me on. 

I can’t stop jiggling my legs. All I want to do is go out there, wrap myself around her, and grind on her until she’s begging me to drag her to the bathroom. It isn’t fair that I can’t. As I stare at her, her eyes open and she turns her head, eyes locking right on mine. I startle a little but she just smirks and waves at me. I can’t help but smile and wave back. She gestures for me to come out onto the floor but I shake my head. She pouts and I just shrug, knowing we can’t do this. 

Suddenly, fear makes my blood run cold. Presley doesn’t get drunk. Alcohol is a truth serum. What if she tells Cash? I need to get her off that fucking floor. But she’s already walking towards me. I stiffen as she steps into my space, her hands going to my shoulders. Her cheeks are so pink and she smells of fruity drink but my dick is hard in my jeans despite how fucked up I am and I can’t do this right now. I’m seconds away from ripping her clothes off.

“Pres,” I say, looking around. I try to pull away a little.

“Col, please,” she whines, touching my face.

I grip her wrist and yank her hand away harder than intended. Her eyes flash with pain and my mouth drops open. “Pres,” I say. “Cash.”

Her lip wobbles and she takes a step back, hanging her head. God, it breaks my heart to have to reject her. I look around for Cash and find him on the dance floor with Olivia, paying no mind to anything else. With that, I grab Presley’s hand and pull her fast through the crowd to the bathroom. 

She stumbles as I push her inside and I lock the door behind us. When I turn around to face her, she lunges at me, mouth on my neck. It startles a moan out of me and I close my eyes, hands going to her hips in an attempt to compose myself, to stop her from getting too close. But this only encourages my girlfriend more.

Her hands are at my belt, and despite how drunk she is, she gets it undone fast, then goes for the button and zipper of my jeans. “Pres,” I grunt, her fumbling fingers putting pressure on my hard cock. 

“Colson, please,” she whimpers, sinking her teeth into my neck and I hiss, dick twitching. I close my eyes, begging for composure, but I’m too drunk to think logically, and my hands go right to her ass, squeezing hard. She moans against my neck and the sound pushes me over the edge of control. 

I grip her hips and move her back forcefully, shoving her into the vanity. She gasps, eyes glossy when she looks at me. I lean in and kiss her hard, biting her lip and pushing my tongue into her mouth. She can’t stop moaning, her hands all over me. They slide up under my shirt, nails gouging into my chest, and I moan. How am I so hard after all that alcohol?

“Pres,” I groan, lifting her onto the counter. “You’re drunk, baby. Why are you drunk?”

“Col, shh,” she says, pressing her plush lips to mine again. “Besides, you’re drunk, too.”

She’s not wrong.

“Colson, please, baby, I need you,” she pleads, hands sliding down into my boxers to grip my ass. “Love you, baby, please.”

I groan and press my forehead to hers. This is a bad idea. We’re both so drunk, but I push her shirt out of the way and tug her shorts down so they hang off one ankle. Then, I’m pushing her panties to the side and touching her, and as always, she’s so hot and wet and all I want is to bury myself inside her. She pulls out my cock and I grunt softly at the relief. She pulls me in hard, bringing my dick to her pussy, and I’m speechless at how dominant she’s being, how forceful. I like to be in control, but I can’t lie, this has me so fucking hard that I’m leaking. 

Presley arches her back as she drags the head of my cock over her clit, a moan wrenching from her throat, and when she places me at her entrance and grabs my ass, I let her pull me in. We moan together as she pulls me deep, wet warmth enveloping my throbbing cock. “H-holy shit, Pres,” I manage, eyes closing as her nails dig into my ass. 

“Come on, baby, fuck me, fuck me,” she whines, canting her hips. I bite down on her neck and do as I’m told, my pace already hard and fast. “Yes! Fuck!” Pres cries, and we’re being so loud, but I can hear the music thumping and hopefully no one can hear us. Besides, I’ve lost all control by now, and I’m clinging to her as I fuck into her. 

“Uhhh, Pres,” I moan, closing my eyes as she clenches around me. “You’re doing that on purpose.”

“Maybe,” she purrs, sliding that sinful tongue over my XX tattoo. “Mm fuck, baby, you feel so good.”

“Fuck, you too,” I manage, gripping her ass to pull her closer. 

“Harder,” she gasps, head falling back. I take advantage, kissing that gorgeous neck while she moans, and she spreads her legs wider as I start to pound into her. I know my cock is ramming into her spot with every thrust, and even over our noises and the music in the bar, I can hear how wet she is around me. 

“God, Presley, you have the wettest pussy,” I moan, and my dirty talk isn’t great, but it makes her moan anyway. 

Presley’s cries get louder and she leans back, pressing her chest out. She spreads her legs as far as she can, sucking me deeper, and I curse, hips stuttering. Presley is pure fucking magic. This drunk, I would never be hard for anyone else, and if by some miracle I was, I wouldn’t ever be able to come this wasted. But with Presley, I’m completely weak. 

Hastily, I shove her shirt up and she gets the idea, holding it out of the way so I can literally rip her lace bralette open. The tatters of the delicate material hang on either side of her perfect tits and I duck my head to suck hard at her nipple. She wails as I gnash my teeth against her, and I swear to god her pussy gushes a little bit more. We’re making such a mess but I couldn’t care less. 

“Colson!” she cries, and I press my fingers to her clit, rubbing fast, harsh circles. I’m desperate to make her explode around my cock. She falls apart right in front of me, tears squeezing from the corner of her gorgeous, jade eyes as her mouth hangs open, perfect teeth on display. She pants, chest rising and falling fast, and with a scream, her hips jerk forward. Her pussy is like a vise on my cock, squeezing so hard that it almost hurts. “Ohhhh, fuckfuckfuck!” she whines as she writhes against me, and in the split second before I explode, I remember a very important fact.

We forgot a condom.

It’s with that thought that I wrench backwards and before I can even get my hand on my cock, my cum splatters over her thighs and stomach. I scramble to get a hand around myself, jerking myself through as my head falls to Presley’s shoulder. My heart is pounding so fucking hard with a mix of panic and relief from coming so hard. 

“Oh, fuck, Pres,” I say weakly. “We forgot a condom.”

“S’okay,” she slurs, rubbing my back. “I’m on birth control.” My brow furrows but then she explains: “To regulate my periods.”

“Oh,” I say, immediately going boneless with relief. But then, we both stiffen because someone is knocking on the door. “Hang on!” I call, looking at Pres. Her eyes are wide, and I know we’re both thinking the same thing. Is someone we know waiting outside? A fan who’s going to run to the tabloids with this? God, we’re being so fucking reckless. 

I quickly clean her up and we help each other dress. Cautiously, I open the door, but whoever it was must’ve gotten sick of waiting because there’s no one. “Okay,” I say. “You go first. I’ll follow in a few.”

“Okay,” she says, giving me a quick kiss before stumbling down the hall. God, she’s drunk, but I might be even drunker. My head spins and I groan. 

Thankfully, everyone seems ready to go and make the trip back to the hotel. Sure enough, Cash wants to switch rooms with Pres, so I help carry Presley’s bags to my room. Without even taking off her boots, my girlfriend collapses face first onto the bed. She mumbles something and my brow furrows as I kick off my own boots. “Huh?”

“I’m so tired,” she manages, turning her head to the side.

“Me too,” I agree, peeling off my shirt and kicking off my jeans. “Lemme get your clothes off, baby.”

She doesn’t protest as I unlace her boots, pulling them and her socks off her feet. I flip her onto her back and peel off her shirt and the shredded material of her bra, then tug her panties down her legs. I slip out of my boxer briefs and maneuver us under the covers. 

I can barely keep my eyes open at this point but Presley’s deep breathing tells me she’s already asleep. My eyes are burning, and before I know it, I’m out. 

I wake up the next morning with a pounding headache. I groan and press my fingers to my temples, the pain diminishing just slightly at the pressure. I slap my hand down onto the nightstand, finding the joint and lighter I left there earlier, and without even opening my eyes, I take a few deep pulls. I sigh and finally wrench open my eyes, searching for Pres. Anxiety spikes when I realize she isn’t next to me. 

“Pres?” I say, sitting up. My head spins and I press my hand to my forehead. “Baby?” Her boots and panties are still on the floor but her shirt is gone. I frown and climb out of bed, looking around. Then, I spot the closed bathroom door and all the panic goes out of me. I let out a breath and sit on the edge of the bed, closing my eyes. But when I hear a retch, they fly open again. 

Fuck. Guilt rushes through me. I knew better than to just fall asleep. Presley needed water last night, maybe even some carbs to soak up the liquor in her stomach. This was the first time she’s ever been drunk, and instead of taking care of her, I fucked her and then let her fall asleep. God, I’m still such an idiot.

I get up and cross the room, leaning my head against the door. “Pres?” I croak. “Baby, let me in.”

“No,” she whimpers. “You don’t wanna see me like this.”

But I do. I want to see her in every single state. Even sick. “Presley,” I say a little louder. “I love you. Let me in.”

Silence. But after a few moments, I hear the lock turn and I push open the door. Presley has crawled back to the toilet and her head hangs over the bowl. I wince and lift her arm, pulling off the hair tie she has on her wrist. I carefully pull her hair up on top of her head and secure it, then squat down beside her and rub her back. 

She groans. “Fuck. This is why I don’t drink,” she croaks.

I frown in sympathy and rest my forehead against her back. “Yeah. The day after sucks.” I’m regretting getting that drunk myself. The thought of Pres puking is enough to make me a little nauseous. “You need some carbs.”

“Oh god,” Presley says, then gags. “No food. No.”

I can’t help but smile weakly. She’s funny when she’s hungover. I press a kiss to her back. “Okay. Water, then. Water and ibuprofen.”

“Deal,” she rasps. I get up and retrieve the medicine from my bag along with a water bottle from the mini fridge. She looks up at me with tired eyes, mascara streaking down her cheeks. I hand over the meds and the water and she carefully takes it. She sighs and hangs her head, groaning softly. “Fuck. Remind me never to drink again.”

“Pres,” I say, sitting on the bathroom floor. “Why…why did you drink, baby?”

Presley is quiet. So quiet that I almost wonder if she’s gone back to sleep, but then she sighs. “Because it hurts.”

“What hurts?” I ask, frowning. 

Presley crawls over to me, resting her head in my lap. I stroke her hair and look down at her. “My heart,” she says quietly, and I swear, mine cracks in my chest. 

“Why?” I ask quietly.

“Because Cash and Olivia get to be happy but we don’t.”

I frown and run my hand slowly over her hair. “We will be,” I tell her. She sniffles and I zero in on her face, watching as a few tears trickle down onto her cheeks. “Oh, baby,” I say. “It’s gonna be okay. Come here.” She sits up and crawls into my lap. I cradle her and kiss her forehead, holding her close. 

“I’m sick of hiding this,” she says. “It’s so hard to be around you and not be like this with you.”

“I know,” I say weakly. “This isn’t forever, Pres. I promise.”

She sighs and nods, going quiet. I hold her close, rocking her, hoping beyond hope that she doesn’t get sick of hiding and tell Cash too soon.

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