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theharrowing · 2 years

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All Tangled Up

After a night of drinking and having fun, Jimin gets himself tangled in Jungkook's mosquito net and Jungkook has to take care of him.

🍃 Jimin x Jungkook

🍃 word count: 8k

🍃 established relationship, canon compliant, idol au, smut, fluff, slash, nsfw, 18+

🍃 warnings: top Jungkook, bottom Jimin. events take place during In The Soop 1. Jimin & Jungkook are a bit drunk. teasing, begging, oral sex, ass eating, anal fingering, anal sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, cuddling, cock warming, shameless smut.

🍃 written for the Serenity: In The Soop Fest!

🍃 beta read by @neoneunnajimin

🍃 posted june 2022 | read on ao3

It was there, in the yard, in the middle of the night, tangled up in a mosquito net, where an intoxicated Park Jimin, age 24, had his very own *Freeze Frame, Record Scratch* "Yeah, that's me; you're probably wondering how I ended up in this situation" moment.

Earlier in the evening, dinner had just wrapped up in the main house, and everyone had their fill of soju and beer. The mood was still light and fun after the whole chicken frying fiasco that took the guys around two hours to sort out, and Jungkook was energetic as ever. Jimin couldn't help but swoon. He wanted that energy all to himself, but he knew it wouldn't be polite to leave the rest of the group so early, so instead, he got Jungkook out of the house and suggested the two of them play a rousing game of ping pong.

More beers were opened, and as the ping pong game quickly devolved into incoherent shouting and failed attempts to score any points, members started to turn in for the night, and Jimin did his best to keep Jungkook riled up.

Keeping Jungkook riled up is pretty simple, as long as you have a competitive spirit, which Jimin has in spades, so Jimin started a fun little game of tag by kissing Jungkook on the cheek, muttering, "Tag, you're it," and taking off running through the yard.

It didn't take Jungkook long to catch up to Jimin, and he caught him by picking him up and spinning him around. Jimin dug his heels in the ground and tried to scold Jungkook, but Jungkook planted a soft kiss on Jimin's lips and then ran in the opposite direction.

Jimin gave chase for a while, panting and whining about how Jungkook was too fast and enduring Jungkook's teasing remarks about how Jimin started the game in the first place. Jimin picked up a soft ball and held it in his hands, attempting to aim it at Jungkook, and Jungkook wiggled from side to side, ready to dodge it.

"Yah!" Seokjin shouted from his tent. "I'm trying to sleep!"

As Jungkook shouted, "Sorry, hyung!" Jimin took aim and chucked the ball, yelling, "You're it!"

Jimin ran back towards the house, unsure if he wanted to try his luck by going inside, but Jungkook was on him too fast and shoved him down into the grass. Jimin toppled over and lay on the ground, rethinking his life choices as Jungkook ran off to the lakehouse. Then, Jimin finally hobbled up, grabbed the ball, and carried it with him, half intent on throwing it at Jungkook as payment for shoving him.

The door was locked, so Jimin knocked, muttering for Jungkook to let him in. He was suddenly exhausted from all the running around and alcohol consumption, and when Jungkook unlocked the door and waited for Jimin to push it open, Jimin barely reacted to Jungkook in his boxing gloves, gently punching him.

"I want to lay down," Jimin grumbled and pushed his way into Jungkook's room.

Jungkook muttered something Jimin missed because, in a fit of laughter, Jimin threw himself onto Jungkook's bed, landing on the mosquito net.

"No, don't!" Jungkook shouted, but Jimin was all giggles. Giggling because he laid on the net. Giggling because he had more to drink tonight than he'd had in what felt like forever. Giggling, giggling, giggling.

Jimin rolled around, and Jungkook continued to shout, and then, in a somewhat drunken haze, Jimin decided he wasn't done running and got up, off Jungkook's bed and took off for the door. Jimin hardly registered that the mosquito net was caught around his ankle until he was exiting the room and it got caught in the doorway. Jungkook's shouting should have tipped Jimin off, but Jimin was too giddy to care.

And that's when Jimin stumbled off the dock and onto the grass, losing his footing and falling onto the lawn, exasperated but giddy.

Footsteps run across the wooden dock, then crunch softly in the grass, and Jungkook is catching up, crouching down by Jimin's ankle and muttering, "What—are you okay?"

Jimin is exhausted, huffing out air that would be laughter if he had the energy to laugh—if his ribs didn't hurt so much from all the giggling before. A camera director peeks out from the house and asks if they need assistance, and Jimin waves him off.

"I think I twisted my ankle, and probably my knee," Jimin half-whines to Jungkook. "Because you shoved me to the ground! You'll have to carry me back."

Jungkook squints and tries to get a good look at the situation, then shakes his head with a chuckle. "Oh, Jimin-ssi."

Jimin slaps Jungkook on the chest with the back of his hand and mutters, "Don't call me that, you punk." Then Jimin looks around to see that the video staff have all packed up for the night, grabs a handful of Jungkook's sweater and tugs him down onto the grass.

"Take care of me, Ggukie," Jimin says in a deep, playful, somewhat slurry voice. He wants to get a rise out of Jungkook, and he does—Jungkook looks at Jimin with wide, curious eyes, then he glances around to make sure they're alone.

"How did you even manage this, Jiminah?" Jungkook groans, giving Jimin some of the attention he desires, but not without teasing him a little.

Jimin fists Jungkook's shirt tighter and pulls him down, causing Jungkook to nearly crash into him—thankfully, Jungkook's quick reflexes cause him to catch himself on a palm in the grass next to Jimin's head. Jimin giggles and—more gently—pulls Jungkook into a kiss, and Jungkook hesitates but leans into it. Jimin knows he's not hesitating because he doesn't want anyone to see them share an intimate moment; he's just hesitant. Jeon Jungkook, the world-famous idol, is always hesitant; he has no choice but to be.

"Carry me, Ggukie," Jimin whines against Jungkook's lips.

Jungkook chuckles and mutters, "Let's get you untangled first," as he sits up and shifts his weight over to reach the net. He scoffs and tilts his head, and Jimin knows he's silently being judged, but he doesn't mind. Jungkook gently lifts Jimin's leg and holds it steady in his left hand while he unwraps the net with his right.

"Gotta be more careful, Jiminah," Jungkook teases. "Can't be such a troublemaker all the time."

Jimin swats Jungkook on the arm and whines, pulling his lips into a pout, but Jungkook stays focused on his work. Once Jimin's leg is free, Jungkook gently sets his foot back down and gets into a squat position, and slides one hand under Jimin's thighs and the other around his back. Although it's an innocuous thing that Jungkook would do for any of his hyungs, being held in Jungkook's arms has a swarm of excitement taking flight in Jimin's tummy, and he nuzzles his face into Jungkook's neck.

Jimin wraps his arms around Jungkook's shoulders and quickly kisses Jungkook's cheek with a giggle, leaving behind a trace of sparks on his lips from Jungkook's skin. Jungkook groans dramatically as he stands, pretending Jimin is heavy, making Jimin pout. And then he carries Jimin back to the lakehouse, stepping quietly on the wooden dock.

With his toe, Jungkook softly kicks the door open, careful not to let it make too much noise, then turns to the side to get Jimin's feet through the doorway without letting him hit the frame. It's no secret that Jungkook is always careful when it comes to Jimin, and he's extra careful now. Jungkook finds a towel sitting on a cabinet and tosses it at the camera that's set up in the corner of his room, smiling to himself when it drapes over the lens.

Once at the bed, Jungkook gives Jimin a devious grin and swings him out, pretending like he's going to throw him, and—despite knowing Jungkook wouldn't actually toss him—Jimin squeals and holds onto Jungkook tighter, burying his face into Jungkook's neck. As soon as Jimin's soft, plush lips brush against Jungkook's skin, Jungkook tenses, and a knowing bolt of electricity soars through Jimin's body. Jungkook halts the swinging movement, and Jimin slowly moves his head back to grin at Jungkook, whose gaze is fixed on him.

"How would you like me to take care of you, yeobo?" Jungkook asks.

The term of endearment mixed with Jungkook's voice suddenly taking on a sultry tone with a hint of satoori, makes Jimin's breath hitch, and his eyes widen before he smirks. Then, Jimin pouts with eyes still wide and bats his eyelashes.

"You'll have to distract me from the pain."

Jimin angles his lips up for a kiss, and Jungkook leans down with a shy smile, but before he can kiss Jimin's lips, Jimin sneaks a kiss to the end of Jungkook's nose with a sweet giggle.

"Such a tease, Jiminah," Jungkook whines as he kneels down onto his bed, placing Jimin on the mattress, but still holding onto him.

"Do something about it, Ggukie."

Jungkook sits and watches Jimin, and Jimin gazes lovingly at the stars in Jungkook's eyes. Sometimes Jungkook does this—just gets completely lost inside his head—and Jimin likes to give him a chance to be lost for a bit, to get caught up and not be overwhelmed. Once Jimin becomes restless, he leans up and gently rubs his nose on Jungkook's nose, breaking him from his spell, and Jungkook leans in for another kiss that Jimin blocks by tilting his chin down.

"Jiminah," Jungkook whines, and Jimin licks across Jungkook's lips with a giggle before retracting his mouth once more.

"You drive me crazy, Jungkook," Jimin says sweetly.

Jungkook pouts. "You're the one teasing me, though."

"You teased me all day!" Jimin retorts, and Jungkook tilts his head.

"Eung? I didn't do anything."

"You did!" Jimin insists, giving Jungkook his most expressive and insistent face, complete with wider eyes than before. "You painted, and then you made that sauce from scratch!"

"From a youtube video!"

"You cooked and helped everyone and then got adorably drunk and danced like an idiot, and you expected me to just sit here and watch it all!"

Jungkook frowns in thought. "I teased you by being helpful and...you didn't even watch me paint!"

"No, because I would have spontaneously combusted! And then yours and Namjoon's paintings would have been ruined." Jimin pouts.

Jimin watches as the cogs turn in Jungkook's head, and he sneaks a quick kiss again to pull Jungkook out of his thoughts. Jungkook wraps his arms around Jimin's back and holds him still, then gently pecks Jimin's lips with a smirk.

"Sorry for teasing you all day," Jungkook says in a slightly mocking tone. "I can't help being golden."

Jimin sucks on Jungkook's lower lip but tilts his head away when Jungkook tries for another kiss, and Jungkook groans. Jimin continues his teasing, licking at Jungkook's mouth and pulling away, and Jungkook responds by straddling Jimin and gently grabbing his head, pressing him into the pillow.

"Are you going to let me take care of you or not?" Jungkook groans, laying the satoori on thick, and a little spark of arousal courses through Jimin.

Jimin tosses his arms up in an act of submission and sighs dramatically as he throws his head to the side. He intends on giving Jungkook a sly smile to invite him to initiate something more heated, but Jungkook is a step ahead and rubs his nose on Jimin's neck before placing slow, firm kisses against his skin. Jimin can't help the whimper that leaves his lips as arousal shimmers through his limbs.

Jungkook is fluent in every way to drive Jimin wild, landing every breathy ministration of his lips precisely, playing Jimin from memory the way he plays his guitar. Of course, Jungkook has had years to study and learn Jimin, but it always fills Jimin with a sense of pride when Jungkook remembers exactly when he likes.

"Please," Jimin whines. He's eager to finally have Jungkook alone, and Jungkook's gentle affection makes him even needier.

"Patience, yeobo," Jungkook mutters against Jimin's skin.

Jimin groans, whimpers, and gently thrashes, and Jungkook continues his slow pace, kissing and licking along the column of Jimin's neck until he feels too sensitive, too electric to take it anymore, and begins to moan, hands still on the pillow above his head. Once Jungkook seems satisfied that Jimin is properly riled up, he sits up, still straddling Jimin, and pulls his shirt off.

The sight of Jungkook shirtless will never not make Jimin's head spin, and Jimin stares at Jungkook, at his muscles, at his tattoos, at the light sheen of sweat and the splotches of blush blooming on his chest and neck that indicate he's turned on.

Jimin sits up enough to pull his own shirt off and fall back against the pillow with a giggle. And Jungkook hovers, staring at Jimin, which makes Jimin squirm and feel antsy, despite having been stared at by Jungkook for years—despite longing to be stared at Jungkook every moment that he's not. Jimin reaches his hand out for Jungkook, grabs him by the ribs, and pulls him down, and Jungkook allows himself to be pulled, letting Jimin slot their lips together. Their kiss is slow, and though it's not heated, there's an urgency building in Jimin. Jimin licks over Jungkook's bottom lip and nips at it, making Jungkook whine.

"I want you," Jimin whines as he deepens the kiss, licking into Jungkook's mouth.

Jungkook sucks on Jimin's lip and rubs his nose against Jimin's nose. "Tell me what you want."

"You."

Jungkook sighs and gives Jimin his trying-to-be-stern wide-eyed stare. "Jiminah, tell me what you want."

Alcohol still courses through Jimin, and he lets out a pathetic whine and begins to flail petulantly. Jungkook knows what Jimin wants, has given Jimin what he wants many times, but where Jungkook likes to be given direction, Jimin likes to be pampered, and it causes a clash of wits from time to time until one of them finally caves and gives into the will of the other. It's typically Jimin who caves.

"Touch me," Jimin whines. "Please, before I cry."

“You’re pretty when you cry.”

Jimin swats at Jungkook, who chuckles and shifts his weight back, pulling Jimin's uninjured leg out from under him, then moves to the side to give the other leg some room, and Jimin drops his uninjured leg open, bent at the knee; he wants Jungkook to think about his legs being spread. Jungkook reaches for Jimin's waistbands and dances his fingertips over Jimin's skin, causing him to giggle before grabbing the garments and pulling them down. Jimin lifts his hips and wiggles them, assisting in the removal of his pants while making Jungkook smile.

And although the cute display does make Jungkook giggle, the sight of Jimin lying naked pulls Jungkook's mouth down, falling slack and serious. Jimin drops his leg down, spread and bent once more as his pants are pulled away, with extra care given to his injured leg—although, at this moment, it feels fine. Maybe a bit sore, at best.

Jungkook wastes no time leaning forward, littering Jimin's hips and tummy with kisses, licking around his belly button and nibbling the soft skin below it. Jimin's breath hitches and comes out ragged at the feeling of Jungkook's lips on him—finally on him, giving him what he needs. Arousal sparks throughout Jimin, tiny flames licking around every nerve ending that Jungkook's skilled, perfect lips come into contact with. Although Jungkook's skin grazes over Jimin's cock, chest and neck rubbing gently over him as he moves lower and lower, Jungkook still teases around it with his mouth, kissing Jimin's hips, down to his thighs, anywhere but where he wants Jungkook's mouth.

"Please," Jimin whines.

"Patience," Jungkook groans as he nibbles on the inside of Jimin's thigh, making Jimin whine and tremble.

Jimin balls his fists and pulls them above his head, resisting the urge to touch and grope and insist. Jungkook's hands splay open on Jimin's thighs, gently pushing him into the mattress, and Jimin could swear he feels warmth radiating from Jungkook's fingertips, blazing hot, threatening to turn Jimin to ash. Jungkook nudges Jimin's cock with the tip of his nose, breathes warm air over the tip, and Jimin gasps, exhales a ragged breath, and allows his eyelids to flutter closed.

Warmth and wetness—just a touch under the head where the skin is softest, a swirl of muscle, then a lap down along the vein and back up. Jimin holds in a moan, unsure of how thick and trustworthy the walls of the lakehouse are, biting into his bottom lip. More warmth and wetness tease the tip of Jimin's cock, and Jimin's hips shake. He opens his eyes and looks down to find Jungkook staring up at him, tongue hanging out and lips curled into a smirk. Jungkook keeps his eyes on Jimin as he sucks the tip into his mouth, and Jimin does his best to keep his eyes open and on the sight before him.

Jungkook looks absolutely sinful, but his mouth feels like heaven, enveloping Jimin's tip, tongue swirling and licking. Jungkook sucks gently, and Jimin's head falls back against the pillow once more, and he struggles to crane his neck to watch Jungkook, putting one hand under his head for stability. Jimin reaches out and gently runs his fingers through Jungkook's hair, then gathers it, keeping it out of Jungkook's face and giving him more of a view.

Jimin is on the brink of collapse. Jungkook's mouth gives so little, so gently sucking and licking. Jimin wants to whine, but he doesn't want to encourage Jungkook to continue his teasing, so he pulls his lips between his teeth to shush himself. The tip of Jungkook's tongue pokes at Jimin's slit, and he whimpers, dragging a hand in front of his mouth to stifle the sound. Jungkook groans and sucks Jimin into his throat with ease, taking almost his entire length, and Jimin pulls the pillow out from under his head and holds it over his face.

"You can't breathe like that Jiminah," Jungkook teases before swallowing Jimin once more.

"Don't n-need to breathe—aaahhh."

Oxygen, who needs that? Jungkook sucks Jimin down with his cheeks pulled in tight and swirls his tongue along the shaft of Jimin's cock when he comes back up—a signature move of his—and Jimin is never prepared. Fabric from the pillow moistens as Jimin inhales it between his lips, and he's becoming exponentially more sweaty than what's comfortable, but it's a quiet night, and Seokjin-hyung is in a tent on the lawn, and Jimin doesn't want him to think there's a banshee haunting the grounds, so asphyxiating on damp cotton is really the only other choice he has.

The pillow is pulled away from Jimin's face, and although Jimin tries with his might to hold onto it, Jungkook is stronger and tears it away, leaving the sweat on Jimin's skin to cool instantly. A shiver runs through Jimin from the cold, and it's a violent force that shakes his core as Jungkook continues to suck the soul from his body. Jimin does his best to keep his voice a whimper as he moans and praises. He's not saying full sentences, just mutters of "So good," and "Ggukie," and profanities, but they get the message across adequately with the aim to encourage Jungkook to continue.

It doesn't take long for Jimin to feel the arousal pool to the brink of overflowing. Jungkook's skilled mouth follows every cue—licks and sucks in the perfect rhythm to stir and stir until Jimin is a hurricane. The high feels incredible, out of this world, and Jimin equal parts wants to chase it to the end and wishes he could bathe in it. But it's impossible to bask in an undertow, and Jimin is swept under before he can take a final breath.

Jimin groans consonants that fail to become words as his body erupts, trembling all over. He takes a handful of Jungkook's hair, and Jungkook stops his movements, gives the reigns over to Jimin as he fucks into Jungkook's throat. Jungkook looks up, staring into Jimin's eyes with those dewy galaxies of his, and Jimin comes hard, head falling back against the pillow as he ruts his hips against Jungkook's perfect, pretty mouth.

When Jimin's hips still, pressed hard against Jungkook's lips, Jungkook sucks the last of Jimin's release, moaning and humming as if praising Jimin for a job well done. Jimin drops his hand to the bed and whines, low and deep, and Jungkook releases his spent cock and crawls up Jimin's body caging his head between Jungkook's elbows.

Jungkook's tongue tastes heady and sweet, and Jimin moans into his mouth. He lays pliant with lips slack as Jungkook takes and takes, licking into his mouth, pulling moans from his throat to swallow whole. Jimin reaches up and wraps his arms around Jungkook's neck, twists his wrists around as if to keep Jungkook close, and twirls a finger through Jungkook's dark brown hair.

"How was that for a distraction?" Jungkook asks with a smirk. Up close, Jungkook's eyes still hold the same sweet innocence they always have, and paired with his lips tugged into a playful sneer, he is truly the most dangerous man on earth.

"It's a good start."

Jungkook sucks on Jimin's bottom lip, pulling one more whine from Jimin's throat. "A good start, hmm?"

Jimin wants to grapple Jungkook down onto his back and straddle him. Wants to hold his arms over his head and tease Jungkook until he whines. But even without an injured leg, Jungkook has the upper hand. So, Jimin does what he does best in situations like these: He pouts.

With wide, pleading eyes, jutting his plush bottom lip out, Jimin says, "On your back, please, Ggukah."

Jungkook complies, rolling off Jimin and onto his back, falling into the space between the mattress and the wall, and a giggle erupts from him that's music to Jimin's ears, even if he thinks it may have been a little too loud. Jimin scoots toward the edge of the mattress, giving Jungkook room to wiggle in toward the middle, then he straddles Jungkook, favoring his good leg, although—aside from a little soreness in his knee and ankle—it still doesn't feel too bad. He probably won't feel it until the morning.

"I want your hands on the edge of the mattress, above your head," Jimin instructs. "If you move your arms, you'll be punished."

Jungkook raises an eyebrow as he reaches both hands over his head and grips onto the edge of the mattress. Jimin loves the way Jungkook obeys, love, love, loves the look of lust in Jungkook's eyes as he patiently waits for him. Jimin slides his hands up Jungkook's arms and leans forward, hovering over Jungkook, pressing his weight down into Jungkook's forearms because he knows Jungkook doesn't mind—likes it, even.

"You're so good to me," Jimin purrs. He rubs the tip of his nose over Jungkook's nose and Jungkook gasps, attempts to jut his lips out for a kiss, but Jimin hovers just out of reach—tilts his jaw under just enough.

Jimin rolls his hips down, rubs his ass over Jungkook's hard, clothed cock, and Jungkook whines a high, raspy sound. Jimin loves riling Jungkook up, loves teasing him until he breaks Jimin's rule and wraps his arms around Jimin, holding and tugging him where he wants to because he's strong and he can.

The punishment Jimin promises is an empty one—a threat that holds no weight. There's never a punishment once they're both so worked up they can't keep their hands and mouths away from each other. But it's the pretense that revs them up and gets everything started, and Jimin enjoys building it just as much as he enjoys watching it crumble.

"Please," Jungkook whines, rolling his hips up against Jimin, who angles his hips up and out of the way at the last second, making Jungkook whine some more.

"Patience," Jimin teases, in the same tone Jungkook said it in earlier, grinning as Jungkook pouts.

Jimin rolls his hips down, gently grazing his slowly growing erection over Jungkook's very firm bulge. "Poor baby, your cock is so hard," he teases, and Jungkook pouts harder, squeezing the edge of the mattress in his hands. Jimin scoots back and nudges himself, on his knees, between Jungkook's legs, which he's spread widely for Jimin. Jimin is bent forward and places his hands over Jungkook's bare tummy, then rubs them down, over the thin basketball shorts covering his hips, his perfectly muscular thighs, to his knees until Jimin is sitting upright.

Jungkook stares up at Jimin, eyebrows delicately knitted into a needy frown. Jimin lifts a hand and gently grazes his fingertips over Jungkook's cock, down the soft material, and back up, and Jungkook breathes loudly through slack lips, watching Jimin's face as his eyelids flutter. Jimin presses a little harder, down the dip under the head of Jungkook's cock, over the thick vein that runs down the shaft, then lightens the touch to graze over the slope of his balls. Jungkook's breath is louder and shakier, and his eyes widen with lust.

Jimin continues his teasing of light, gentle touches, watching Jungkook do his best to stay composed. As Jungkook begins to get fidgety, like he wants to move his hands and do something about the tension in his shorts, Jimin places both hands above Jungkook's knees and slides them up his shorts, squeezes Jungkook's thighs, thumbs so close to his crotch, then runs his hands back down. Up, squeeze, then back down.

And although Jungkook is visibly cracking—clearly wants to explode—Jimin continues his slow, gentle movements, watching for more signs that he's going to break.

Jimin places his hands over Jungkook's hips and leans forward, grazing his lips over Jungkook's cock. Heat radiates through Jungkook's shorts, and there's a faint musk of sweat lingering in the fabric that makes Jimin dizzy. He wants to touch and taste Jungkook just as badly as Jungkook clearly wants him, and it's so difficult to keep his composure and tease.

"Please," Jungkook whispers.

"Please what, baby?"

Jungkook groans, his legs tense, and Jimin grins; Jungkook is already getting restless.

"Touch me."

Jimin nudges his nose, lips, and chin over Jungkook's length and opens his mouth to gently graze his teeth over the tip. Jungkook's hips tremble, and he groans louder, more impatiently.

"Touch me without my shorts in the way."

Jimin sits up slowly, knits his eyebrows, and looks at Jungkook as if he's speaking a language Jimin has never heard before. "I don't understand."

Jungkook clenches his jaw, appears to bite back a smirk, and he huffs out an exasperated breath. "Please," he says softly, with a demanding tone.

"Baby is so impatient. So naughty."

"I'm not," Jungkook responds.

Jimin hums. "But you are. I'm touching you and you're being very ungrateful."

"Jiminah, please."

Jimin tuts his tongue and cocks his head. He stares Jungkook down, challenging him. Jungkook squeezes the life out of the edge of the mattress, knuckles turned white, and Jimin knows it's only a matter of time now.

"You're being such a brat," Jimin says in a tone that suggests he's appalled by Jungkook's behavior, staring down at Jungkook.

"I'm being a brat? I made you come already. You're the one teasing me to the point of insanity."

Jimin hums. "Is that so?"

Jungkook widens his eyes, jaw set and tense.

With a smirk, Jimin says, "Then go insane."

And that's all Jungkook needs. He sits up, grabs Jimin by the waist, and pulls him onto his lap with a force that makes Jimin dizzy. Jimin winces and says, "Ah, my leg!" and Jungkook halts, eyes wide with worry, but Jimin giggles and shakes his head—he is, in fact, the one who is just being a brat.

This spurs Jungkook on further, who holds Jimin tight and grinds his hips up, pressing his hard cock into Jimin's ass and balls. Jimin whines and trembles; the feeling is so good Jimin wants more. Jungkook gently bites onto Jimin's shoulder, and a bolt of arousal shoots through Jimin as he whimpers.

"You were naughty, and now I have to punish you," Jimin whines.

"You couldn't punish me if you tried," Jungkook groans. "Idle threats to work me up until I hold you down and fuck you till you're cross-eyed."

Jimin grins and hisses as Jungkook's teeth bite into the same spot as before. "Is it working?"

Jungkook shakes his head. "Not this time. You're gonna suck my cock while I open you real slow."

"W-what?"

"Turn around, Jiminah."

Jungkook releases his hold on Jimin, and Jimin hesitates before scooting back and turning around, facing Jungkook's feet. Jungkook must lay back because he takes Jimin by the thighs—snaking his arms around to hold Jimin firmly with the palms of his hands—and yanks Jimin up until warm breath ghosts over Jimin's ass and Jimin's face hovers over Jungkook's crotch.

Jimin takes hold of Jungkook's shorts and briefs and tugs them down over his cock. Jungkook lifts his ass, and Jimin manages to push the garments down past his knees, then Jungkook finishes wiggling out of them, kicking them to the end of the bed.

"Can you reach my bag?" Jungkook asks. "I need the lube."

"Now you tell me," Jimin half-whines, and he leans over the mattress and reaches out to the suitcase that sits open on the wooden platform beside the bed. He can't reach it, so he wiggles out of Jungkook's hold and crawls a few inches to the suitcase and finds the bottle of lube in the nearest pocket. As Jimin begins to crawl back into place, Jungkook grabs him by the thighs once more and pulls him back onto him. Jimin scrambles and drops the lube, but Jungkook seems to be able to reach it easily, and they get back into position.

Jungkook wastes no time pulling Jimin's ass against his mouth and spreading him with his palms, and Jimin whines and falls forward from the feeling of Jungkook's tongue against his skin. He scrambles to grab onto Jungkook's cock and strokes it before shoving it into his mouth and swallowing as much as he can, desperate to give Jungkook the pleasure he deserves without any more teasing. Jungkook squeezes Jimin's ass and dives his tongue into his rim, and Jimin's muffled whimpers fall wet around Jungkook's cock.

The first finger to probe Jimin's ass is slicked only with spit, and the stretch makes Jimin hiss. It feels so good, with a slight burn, and Jimin chokes down on Jungkook's cock, slurping and drooling as compensation for the pleasure he feels. Jungkook's hips rut gently from time to time, always followed by a whine or a hiss, and Jimin hollows his cheeks tightly to suck even harder.

"Trying to make me come already?" Jungkook groans.

Jimin hears the lube bottle snap open, and he hums in response as he swirls his tongue down Jungkook's shaft. The anticipation of lube-slicked fingers has his head spinning, and he does his best to show Jungkook just how eager he is. Two fingers enter Jimin, and his mouth falls open, dropping Jungkook's cock while he whines. Jungkook stills his hand and slaps Jimin on the ass.

"Suck," Jungkook instructs, and Jimin scrambles to grab onto Jungkook's cock, sucking the tip into his mouth as Jungkook slowly pries him open.

Pleasure shakes through Jimin, and his legs tremble as Jungkook eases his fingers past the knuckle, slowly pushing in and pulling out. And although Jungkook is measured and careful, he wastes no time, adding more lube and a third finger once Jimin is stretched enough on the first two and is adjusted to the feeling. They've done this enough that Jungkook knows the signs that tells him when Jimin is overwhelmed and when he’s ready for more, but he asks Jimin if he can take more anyway, waiting for the telltale frantic attempt of a nod before continuing.

As the third finger enters Jimin, he nearly blacks out. It's always too much at first, and he fights the urge to let his mouth fall forward and drop Jungkook's cock. Jimin's legs shake hard, and Jungkook holds one thigh in a tight grip to keep Jimin in place.

"Make me come, Jiminah," Jungkook groans, and Jimin snaps back into action, moaning and humming around Jungkook's cock as he sucks and licks and attempts to relax into the feeling of Jungkook's fingers.

Jimin gives Jungkook's balls a gentle squeeze as he picks up a steady rhythm. Jungkook's moans and whines—albeit hushed—are music to Jimin's ears, pushing Jimin to focus more on the pleasure he's giving than on the pleasure he is receiving. This works to Jimin's favor because three fingers feel so overwhelming as they push past the knuckles, and Jimin wants nothing more than to move on to having the cock between his lips in his ass instead.

Jungkook's fingers slow, and their rhythm becomes sloppy, and Jimin takes that, plus Jungkook's hips shaking and rutting, as a sign. He hollows his cheeks harder, slurping the drool that's slid down Jungkook's shaft, and Jungkook rubs his non-occupied hand up and down Jimin's ass and thigh.

"That's it, yeobo," Jungkook groans. "I'm so close."

Jungkook squeezes Jimin's ass and rasps his best attempt at soundless moans as his release hits Jimin's tongue and throat. Jimin swallows as best as he can, milking Jungkook of every drop that he can give. Jimin loves to make Jungkook come, but he's spurred on more by the excitement of what's to come for him.

It only takes a moment for Jungkook to recover from post-orgasm bliss before he's fucking his fingers into Jimin's ass, stretching him open again. Jimin falls forward, face into the sheet that's bunched between Jungkook's legs, and Jungkook finds Jimin's prostate and rubs it until Jimin is practically screaming into the mattress and begging to be fucked.

When Jungkook's hands slow, Jimin turns his head to the side and gasps for air. He can hear Jungkook chuckle from behind him, clearly amused by how easy it is to make Jimin come completely undone for him. Jimin might feel embarrassed if this wasn't something they often do. And anyway, he enjoys the slight tinge of shame that comes from knowing how quickly he becomes pliable putty in Jungkook's hands.

"Fuck me," Jimin whimpers. He's not certain he's adjusted enough to move on from three fingers to Jungkook's thick, perfect cock, but he wants to be held down and overwhelmed by Jungkook so badly, he doesn't care.

"Almost, yeobo," Jungkook responds, scissoring his fingers open to provide more of a stretch.

Jimin is filled with the overwhelming urge to be petulant and whine, but he knows Jungkook has his best interests in mind—and probably still isn't hard again yet—so he pouts silently and grabs ahold of the sheet tightly, leaning his weight forward between Jungkook's legs.

"You look so good, Jiminah," Jungkook mutters, littering kisses against Jimin's buttcheek. "I can't wait to feel you."

"Please," Jimin whines. "Please, Ggukie."

Jungkook removes his fingers, and Jimin falls completely forward, attempting to anticipate what position Jungkook might want him in. His limbs are already jelly, and he sits up with the immediate desire to lay right back down. From behind him, Jungkook pats his thighs as if calling for a puppy, and Jimin turns to find Jungkook sitting up against the wall with his pillows behind his back.

"Get over here, yeobo," Jungkook instructs.

Jimin is, once again, stunned to see Jungkook naked. Each time, Jimin could swear there is new muscle definition and more ink to admire, and even though Jimin had this same moment earlier, he can't help but have it again. Jungkook chuckles, shaking Jimin from his reverie, and when Jimin's eyes fall to Jungkook stroking his lube-slicked cock, Jimin fumbles to finish turning around and climbs onto Jungkook's lap.

"You're so sexy," Jimin whines, wrapping his arms around Jungkook's shoulders. Jungkook smiles and nudges Jimin's nose with his, and Jimin pulls Jungkook into a deep, needy kiss, licking Jungkook's lips to urge his tongue out to play.

Jungkook's hands snake around and grab Jimin's thighs, pulling Jimin into position above his cock as he licks into Jimin's mouth. Arousal drips through Jimin, saccharine and thick, and he rolls his hips down just enough to tease Jungkook's cock and make him moan.

"Ready for me?" Jimin asks with a smirk.

Jungkook nods, asking, "Are you ready for me?"

Jimin presses their foreheads together and lines himself up to Jungkook's cock. He lowers his hips slowly, and when Jungkook's tip breaches his rim, both men whimper and hiss. Jimin's head falls back as he lowers and raises his hips, slowly accommodating to Jungkook's size, and Jungkook places a hand over Jimin's mouth to muffle his moans while sliding the other hand to Jimin's ass, spreading his cheeks and providing leverage.

Once Jimin is fully seated on Jungkook's cock, his head falls to Jungkook's shoulder and he catches his breath. The stretch is incredible, and although it's familiar, it always takes him a moment for Jimin to adjust and breathe through it. Jungkook rubs his palms up and down Jimin's back, and when Jimin mutters that he's ready, Jungkook takes hold of Jimin's ribs, holding him in position as he ruts his hips up.

Jimin bites his lip to stifle his sounds as Jungkook's hips thrust upward, filling him so deliciously. Jungkook's cock feels like it was made specifically to please Jimin, and Jimin keeps his body still, eager to let Jungkook use him as he wants for a while. Then, when Jimin thinks he can handle moving on his own, he begins to move his hips up and down, deepening Jungkook's thrusts.

Panting and whispered moans fill the room, with the occasional grunt and squeak slipping out, along with the lewd sound of skin slamming into skin and the wooden platform creaking softly below them. Jimin's cock bounces against his tummy, leaking precome and adding to the cacophony of sounds. Arousal builds quickly, and Jimin fights the urge to come so soon, but it's difficult to feel anything but pure bliss in Jungkook's strong hands.

"Come again for me, Jiminah," Jungkook groans, and Jimin can't help but chuckle because somehow, Jungkook always knows exactly what he needs.

Jungkook runs his hands up Jimin's chest, over his pecs and to his shoulders, then slides them down his arms, pulling them behind his back and holding them there. Jimin arches his back to accommodate being restrained, and when Jungkook ruts his hips up at a more punishing pace, Jimin's head falls back, and he resists the urge to scream.

"Come untouched for me," Jungkook grunts between thrusts.

Jimin relaxes as best as he can, allowing Jungkook to use him like a doll and let the pleasure roll through him. Jimin knows as soon as he comes, he'll turn into a whimpering, overstimulated mess for Jungkook to hold down and force another orgasm out of, and he's equal parts excited and terrified.

"Fuck," Jimin whimpers, feeling his cock throb and leak as it slams against his abs.

Jungkook pulls Jimin down against his chest, still holding his arms back, and Jimin's cock rubs between their bodies, giving him just enough stimulation to make him completely fall apart. Jungkook must realize what he's done because he yanks Jimin back just enough to stop stimulating his cock, but it was enough to get Jimin just to the edge of another orgasm, and it doesn't take long at all for Jimin to pant and quietly moan as he sprays his release between them, practically spraying come onto their chests and abs as Jungkook continues fucking him unrelentingly.

Jimin turns further into jelly, limbs shaking and vibrating with pleasure, and he leans back, bouncing as Jungkook fucks into him. Jungkook eases Jimin down onto the mattress, letting Jimin have his arms back, which Jimin slowly pulls over his head to grip the comforter below him. His vision is hazy, and he's beginning to feel overwhelmed, and he relaxes against the mattress as Jungkook—whose hips still buck into him—gets onto his knees and spreads Jimin's legs wide, holding his hips at an upward angle.

Sweat and come cover Jimin's torso, turning his skin cool and sticky, and he could not be bothered to care. Jungkook fucks Jimin so good he feels floaty and euphoric, breathing through the mind-numbing overstimulation that has him on the brink of total mental collapse. He's not sure if he wants to laugh or cry; he just doesn't want Jungkook to ever stop.

"You feel so good, Jiminah," Jungkook moans.

Jimin reaches up, letting his fingertips rub Jungkook's chest, and Jungkook cracks a soft smile at the touch before knitting his brows, leaning forward and fucking Jimin harder. Jimin's cock slaps against his stomach, and he cannot, for the life of him, fathom being hard again, already; he can't imagine having another orgasm when he's not sure he's recovered from the last one.

Jungkook slams his hips forward, then pulls his cock out, and Jimin whimpers from the sudden feeling of being empty. Jungkook gets out from under Jimin's thighs, laying Jimin onto the bed, then taps his hip and says, "On your knees."

Jimin whines, hating the feeling of having to move his limbs. The audacity of Jungkook thinking he's even capable of such a thing is astounding, but he does his best, bumbling around and falling forward when his arms can't hold him. A pillow is tossed beside Jimin, and he tugs it to himself, wrapping his arms around it and using it to help him get onto his knees.

Jungkook spreads Jimin wide, and Jimin is surprised to feel Jungkook's warm, wet tongue enter him. He groans from the pleasure and squeezes the pillow tight as Jungkook fucks his tongue in and out of Jimin's stretched hole. Jimin can feel drool slide down over his perineum, and he pictures how it would look with roles reversed and Jungkook spread out pretty and wide for him to taste.

Warmth and affection fill Jimin's chest as Jungkook stops tonguing him and lines their bodies up. Perhaps it's a silly time for Jimin to feel the outpouring of love he feels for Jungkook, but he's astounded by how perfectly they fit each over—by how Jungkook knows how to push Jimin closer and closer to the edge without letting him fall.

Jungkook's cock stretches Jimin once more, and he wastes no time picking up a pace that has Jimin's head spinning and his hands gripping onto the pillow below him like a lifeline. Jimin is already drooling, and he's not sure he has the capacity to form words, and he's perfectly content. Sweat drips from Jungkook down onto Jimin's back, trickling around the curves of his body and leaving a cool streak in its wake, sending little shivers through Jimin, and he wonders if he could drown in Jungkook if possible. He thinks, in a way, he already is.

A hand snakes around Jimin's hip and grips onto his cock, and Jimin squeals, feeling a surge of pleasure course through him. Jungkook strokes his cock and urges him to come for him one more time, and although Jimin shakes his head and pleads, saying he can't do it, Jungkook continues—Jimin has a safeword he can use, but he never does. Being whiny and begging for mercy is all part of the game, and Jimin wants to feel Jungkook force him to come one last time before they collapse into a pile of trembling, sweaty limbs.

"Awe, is my yeobo overstimulated?" Jungkook teases, and Jimin nods his head and whimpers. "One more, Jiminie; you're being so good for me."

Jungkook fucks Jimin hard enough for Jimin's legs to give out beneath him, and Jungkook continues to rut into him, adjusting to the new angle and holding onto the tip of Jimin's cock to make up for not being able to easily stroke him. Like this, Jungkook can lift and slam his hips and fuck Jimin deeper and harder, and Jimin finally reaches his limit as his orgasm pulls him violently under, and he buries his face into the pillow to moan, doing his best not to scream.

Jimin trembles and shakes as his orgasm rocks through him, and he squeezes Jungkook's cock even more than he had been already, desperate for Jungkook to come. Jungkook releases Jimin's cock and presses both palms into Jimin's ass, holding him down against the mattress and fucking into him hard, and Jimin feels himself slipping further away, floating as Jungkook chases his high and empties his release into Jimin's ass.

Jungkook falls forward, pulling Jimin closely and wrapping his legs around Jimin's legs for comfort. Jimin pants and wiggles back against Jungkook's chest in search of warmth despite their bodies being covered in sweat. It's awkward where they are, curled in the center of an already small mattress, but Jungkook pulls a blanket over them, and they get as comfortable as they can, dozing in and out of consciousness as Jimin cock warms Jungkook until Jungkook finally begins to move them into a position that allows them to stretch their limbs.

Jimin has no idea how much time passes before they're adjusting, straightening out with their heads at the foot of the bed and moving so Jimin is lying on Jungkook's chest. He thinks he may have fallen asleep, but he can't remember any dreams, only the weightless feeling of being held while his body fully adjusts to the blissful, sticky aftermath of their session. Occasionally, Jimin feels Jungkook’s lips ghost over his skin leaving bright, tingling wet spots in their path.

When Jimin wakes again, it's to Jungkook gently putting Jimin's clothes back on, and Jimin lifts his limbs to assist, wondering quietly what he's doing. Jungkook is already dressed in the same shirt and shorts as the night before, and when Jimin sits up to help put his shirt on, Jungkook kisses his forehead softly.

"Should get you back into your own bed before the crew wakes up," Jungkook mutters. And although Jimin doesn't want to leave Jungkook's side, he understands.

Jungkook lifts Jimin with an exaggerated grunt, as always, and Jimin giggles into Jungkook's neck, holding him close. Although the sun is beginning to rise, it's still not too light, and the birds have barely started to chirp and sing. The walk from the lakehouse to the upper house is shorter than Jimin would like, and he pouts for Jungkook to stay as he's tucked into bed, gripping and tugging at Jungkook's shirt for more and more kisses before finally letting him go.

It takes Jimin a while to wake up, and he hears all about Seokjin-hyung shooting off a firework while everyone at the main house and Jungkook woke confused, hours earlier. According to Jungkook, Seokjin-hyung may have muttered something about keeping him up late, and Jungkook may have pretended he didn't hear anything.

Jimin blushes and giggles when trying to explain to the crew and the guys what happened to his ankle, and he pretends not to see their knowing gazes. Of course, they know—they've known about Jimin and Jungkook for years—and Jimin thinks it's sweet how they don't pry, even though it seems like they would like to, sometimes. Jimin thinks he's lucky to have the love and support that he has, and although he'll undoubtedly be picked on for being so careless and clumsy whenever someone sees him limping around, he's happy. As long as Jungkook is there, there's nowhere in the world Jimin would rather be. Though he thinks he will miss the calm serenity of the forest once they get back home.

❤ tag list: @dasexydevitt13 & @giriiboyy

#btshoneyhive #btswritersclub #btscarnivalnet #jikook #jikook smut #jungkook smut #jimin smut #in the soop fic #fic: all tangled up

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jupitercomet · 2 years

Note

i absolutely get where you’re coming from with the “falling in an out of love with writing” thing. honestly i should just come off anon and annoy you in your inbox if that’s something you’d be comfortable with. but no, writing — it can be something so personal to you. even if it’s something like a term paper that’s so stripped of ~you~ that it’s ridiculous to base your entire self worth on if or not some cranky professor likes your referencing style. i don’t think i’m ever as honest as i am in the spaces between words i choose or the ones i don’t write down. and it’s funny because as a writer you’re more or less hiding behind words but you’re also yelling “look at me” but you’re also so uncomfortable with the attention sometimes and it’s even worse when you don’t have the centre stage. it’s like you can never win. it’s just scary to write something and have people read it differently or not at all or see you as you are and not care at all. maybe i’m just projecting haha but i think with art, it’s almost always an extension of yourself, and i think you’re meant to find a balance, some degree of distance but i’ve obviously not mastered it yet, and everytime i try to talk about it i conflate one with the other but that says enough so i don’t mind.

and then there’s this feeling of getting caught up in a race. or not, like you’ll be spending your entire life trying to catch up with other people. like. how can you convince yourself you’re exactly where you should be when you’re not even where *you* thought you’d be at this point? not to get too personal on your main lol but i thought i’d have a degree by now. finished writing the next great novel. get my heart broken by love and not the absence or loss of it. instead you’re inexplicably hyper fixated on a stupid vroom vroom movie you didn’t even enjoy watching that much. i don’t know what i’m saying, but i guess there’s a point to be made here about how you’re not alone in this? and how where you are is a lot more impressive to someone standing near you than it is to you? it’s genuinely okay to take your time — your entire life you’ve been running out of it, and now without a stopwatch it makes sense you’re moving to the ticking of someone else’s clock, or wondering you should be, but you’ll find your pace. it just takes a lot of reminding yourself that you aren’t late or early. and even if you are, it’s your life, no one can to steal the seat reserved for your five-years-from-now self. not even you.

i’m sorry if some of this sounds preachy, didn’t mean for it to be, i just went with the words and am unfortunately not big on proofreading (/being my own beta, we hate our own writing upon second glance in my house). your words made me feel a little less alone in the world and i guess i wanted to let you know that you aren’t either (though i probably shouldn’t have assumed we’re in similar boats, but i hope you get what i mean). anyway, loved the new chapter, you’ll probably have to endure an incoherent rant about that soon too. fingers crossed you don’t think i’m effing insane though haha

and thank you for the flowers, i send you the stars in gratitude ✨ ⭐️ 🌟 💫🌠🌃🌌 💫🌟⭐️✨

okay firstly, your writing is beautiful. it's like you've slurped the words directly out of my brain

I definitely understand what you mean with writing and how it feel authentic to you but also not and I am most certainly not where I thought I'd be and reminding myself that that's okay is a daily task but we ball lol

anyway thank you for this I feel so seen

#i also am very much looking forward to the next incoherent rant #and you're welcome to come off anon if you would like #for now I shall call you #🪐 anon #what’s up doc

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bratdesire · 3 years

Text

Your Dad, My Daddy

Pairing: Ukai Keishin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, age gap, older man/younger woman, barely legal, squirting, rough sex, daddy kink, alcohol mention, questionable ethics, d/s dynamics, overstimulation, degrading language, touch of subspace, unprotected sex, breeding kink, slight dubcon if you squint but it’s all consensual, Ukai’s dick is pierced, exhibitionism(?)

Genre: Smut, just so much smut

Word count: 9.4k

Author’s note: Here is my contribution to the new HQHQ collab!! You can find the masterlist right here! Big big thank you to @sempiternal-amour and @inaflashimagine for beta-ing this monster fic, ilysm <3 This is so incredibly self-indulgent, I even inserted my nickname ~for spice~. Anyways, enjoy my incoherent screaming uwu

Summary: When you go over to your friend’s house for a study session you don’t anticipate meeting her very attractive father, and you surely don’t anticipate the very same man fucking you over their couch.

“Hey, I apologize in advance for anything weird my dad says or does. You know how dads are,” Hitomi explains as she pulls into the driveway of her house.

It’s small but nice and well-manicured, situated in the cul de sac of a middle-class suburb.

“Dad, we’re here,” she shouts up the stairs, setting her keys on the small table next to the front door. Hitomi’s gaze drifts to the tall, dark haired man sitting at the kitchen table and your own gaze soon follows. “Oh, there you are.”

She quickly pecks the man on his cheek before walking over to the shiny silver fridge, pulling out a couple bottles of water. “Dad, this is Bunny, Bunny this is Dad,” she gestures between the two of you.

When her father glances up from his phone to give you a nod of acknowledgement, you’re taken aback by how handsome he is.

You can tell from the slight wrinkles around his lips and the crinkles by his eyes that he’s definitely a much older man, but other than that he’s flawless. The angle of his jaw is sharp but soft, lower face darkened by his five o’clock shadow. His chocolate brown eyes are complemented by plump, pink lips that would look even better swollen and shiny with saliva. Dark, shiny locks are gathered into a low ponytail and you wonder how they would feel fisted in your fingers. He’s gorgeous in a rugged, mature way that boys your age aren’t and could never hope to be.

Hitomi never told you her dad was hot but then again, why would she?

“Mr. Ukai, it’s nice to meet you,” you greet him.

He waves his hand in the air dismissively, “Ah, you can just call me Keishin. No need to be so formal.”

Hitomi mutters a frustrated “shit” under her breath and it takes you a few moments to tear your eyes away from the man in front of you.

“I left my textbook in the car, I have to go grab it,” she sighs then turns to her dad. “You, don’t scare off my friend, please.”

Keishin puts a hand on his heart, a falsely serious expression on his face. “I won’t, scout’s honor.”

She just rolls her eyes, exiting the kitchen the same way you entered. The front door slams shut, leaving you alone with your friend’s very hot dad.

Keishin looks up at you then quickly looks away, unsure how to interact with his daughter’s friends. “So is, uh, Bunny your real name?” he asks, nervously rubbing the back of his head.

Leaning against the table he’s seated at, you fold your arms across your chest, fully aware of how low cut your top is. You don’t miss the way his eyes briefly flicker down to your cleavage then back up to your face. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I… I’m just trying to make conversation,” he laughs nervously.

“Hm, well, the short answer is no. You’ll have to get to know me a bit better before I give you the long answer.”

He snorts, pushing his chair back and rising to his full height. “What gave you the confidence to speak like this to your elders?”

Taking a step towards him, you twirl a piece of hair around your finger and shyly peer up at him through your lashes. “I don’t know, but maybe you can teach me how to behave.”

A light blush colors his cheeks and his eyes widen with surprise. “I-I don’t know what you’re implying, but it’s not... appropriate,” he stutters, taking a step backwards to try to put some distance between you.

You sidle up to him, reaching out a hand to caress his well-muscled arm. When he makes no move to stop your petting, you bite your lip and get on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Who said we had to be appropriate?”

His mouth is slightly agape, lips moving every so often, as if he wants to say something but doesn’t. “I—” he starts.

The sound of the front door slamming open makes you both jump apart, trying to appear as casual as possible.

“I got it! We can go study now,” Hitomi proclaims, waving the book around in her hands. She glances at you, then at her father and notices the way you’re completely turned away from each other. “Oh my God, Dad, what did you do?” she groans.

He holds up both hands in surrender, shaking his head emphatically. “I didn’t do anything! Why do you always think I did something?”

Your friend strides over to lightly punch his shoulder, a disapproving but loving expression on her face. “Because you’re weird and lame. Besides, between you and Bunny, I’m always going to assume that you’re the guilty party.”

You find yourself chuckling at their banter, touched by how close they are. It’s evident that Hitomi and Keishin care a lot about each other, regardless of how much they tease each other and guilt twists in your gut when you remind yourself that you were flirting with him. She likely wouldn’t forgive you for trying to sleep with her dad and it would cause a great deal of damage to their relationship, possibly beyond repair if she knew he was into girls her age. To make matters worse, you’re two years her junior. What man would sleep with a girl younger than his daughter?

But your morals are tossed right out the window when you take in the sight of Keishin’s radiant smile—all straight, white teeth and eyes that shine like pools of dark honey. It’s in that moment that you decide you’re going to seduce that man if it’s the last thing you do.

Sorry, Hitomi. Kind of.

---

“Okay, so L-Tyrosine is one of the twenty amino acids used by the body to synthesize proteins. It is also an aromatic amino acid derived from phenylalanine by hydroxylation in the para position—oof!” Hitomi’s droning is cut off by the pillow you send hurtling towards her head.

You sit up on her bed, squealing obnoxiously as you stretch. “Hitomi, I love you, but please shut up. My brain is melting. We’ve been at this for three hours now, can we take a break?”

She closes the textbook in her lap and pushes it to the edge of her desk. “Fine, fine. We can take a twenty minute break, but we have to go right back to studying because finals are this week and I cannot afford to fail,” your friend warns, despite how she whips out her phone at lightning speed.

Picking at a stray thread on the comforter, you gently try to get her attention, “Hey, Tomi?”

“Hm?” she responds, barely glancing up from the video she’s watching.

You’re not sure how to broach the subject, but you’ve never been one to beat around the bush so you just come right out and say it. “Has anyone told you your dad’s kinda hot?”

That makes her stop, her head jerking up from her phone at lightning speed. “What!? That old geezer?” She sounds dumbfounded, incredulous at the prospect that someone would be interested in her father.

“Yeah girl, he’s a total DILF,” you confess, making a little fanning motion with your hand like you’re burning up inside just thinking about him, and it’s not that far from the truth.

Hitomi makes no effort to hide her feelings, disgust clearly evident in her delicate features. “Ew! You have to be joking. Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not joking! He’s really sexy,” you muse dreamily.

She claps both hands over her ears, yelling at the top of her lungs to drown you out. “I never want to hear you say that my old man is ‘sexy’ ever again!”

You childishly stick your tongue out at her. “Hey! I’m just speaking the truth. You have to have had friends say the same thing.”

Removing her hands from her ears, she brings one up to stroke her chin, seemingly deep in thought. “Now that I think about it, back in high school my friends were a lot more enthusiastic about coming over once they met my father.”

You feel vindicated by her personal testimony, even if she thinks you’re gross. “See? I’m not the only one who finds your dad ridiculously attractive.”

Hitomi gags dramatically as if she’s going to puke and judging by the look on her face, she just might. “Please, no more, I’m begging you.”

“Fine, fine I’ll stop, but don’t act surprised when I become your new stepmom,” you tease, wiggling your eyebrows at her.

“You’re younger than me, don’t even joke about that,” she shudders in horror. “Okay, with that we need to get back to studying amino acids and proteins.”

“Whatever you say, future stepdaughter.” You muster your best motherly voice, sickeningly sweet and a touch passive aggressive.

This time, it’s Hitomi’s turn to throw a pillow at you.

---

Since the day you met Keishin, you haven’t been able to get him off your mind. Even when you’re in class trying to learn about the sodium-potassium pump, you find your thoughts drifting to his hands, his lips, him. He’s simply become too distracting to ignore.

More times than you care to admit, you’ve fucked yourself with your fingers to thoughts of how his fingers would feel pumping inside you. You fantasize about how his hand would feel around your neck, squeezing with just enough pressure to make your vision hazy. His name is always on the tip of your tongue when you orgasm and when you finally let yourself moan out ‘Keishin,’ you know enough is enough. A man his age has to know exactly how to make a woman scream and writhe in pleasure, but you need to experience it for yourself or you’ll die trying.

You’re not oblivious to the way he looks at you with hunger and longing in his eyes, you know he wants you too and you’re not above using dirty tricks to show him just how much you want him.

If he’s too proud, too noble to give in to his urges, you’ll just have to break him. His resolve may be strong, but yours is stronger.

Your efforts begin innocently enough, gently probing him for more information about himself so you can get to know him better.

“I’ve noticed you don’t wear a ring. Is there a Mrs. Ukai in the picture?” you ask innocently.

Keishin clears his throat a bit too loudly, refusing to meet your questioning gaze. “Nah. It’s just me and Tomi, always has been.”

“Any… future Mrs. Ukai in the picture?”

The corners of his lips twitch slightly, the barest of smiles tugging at his handsome features. “Can’t say there is. Between the store and coaching volleyball, I don’t really have the time to date.”

You nod and make a noise of acknowledgement, relieved by the confirmation that he is in fact very, very single. You’re a lot of things, but you’re not a homewrecker.

On another occasion, you’re seated on their plush leather couch and Keishin’s in the well-worn La-Z-Boy recliner to your left. You’re watching some Adam Sandler movie on Netflix, but it’s paused while Hitomi is in the bathroom.

You take your alone time together as an opportunity to question him more, toeing the line of what would be considered proper. “So, Keishin, how old are you? I know Tomi’s twenty-one so you must be…” you trail off, hoping he’ll humor you.

He takes a swig of the beer in his hand and your eyes instinctively flicker down to watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Old.”

You roll your eyes and prop your chin up on your hand, readjusting your position on the couch so you’re leaning closer to him. “Obviously, but just how old?”

“Why do you want to know so badly?” he asks, head tilted and a well-groomed eyebrow lifted questioningly.

“I was just wondering if you’re older than my dad,” you tease.

His shoulders shake slightly as he chuckles, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’m forty-four. Do I have him beat?”

“He’s forty-two, so just barely.” Your steady, unwavering eyes lock onto his own, which are glassy and unfocused from the alcohol. When he brings the bottle to his lips once more, you nonchalantly add, “Maybe I should call you Daddy instead.”

Keishin coughs and sputters in surprise, causing him to choke on his beverage and a spray of sticky beer splatters across your face.

Apologies tumble out of his mouth as soon as he realizes that your cheeks and hair are dripping with the craft IPA he was drinking. “I-I’m so sorry! I’ll get you a towel,” he blurts, shooting up from his chair.

In his panic and embarrassment, he rushes toward the linen closet and you can’t help the giggles that escape your mouth at how uncoordinated he is, now several drinks in. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not that big of a deal,” you reassure him, wiping your face with the back of your hand for emphasis.

He returns from the rummaging around the hall closet, a dark blue towel in his hand, which he offers to you with a nod of his head.

No matter your protests and assurances that you’re fine, Keishin is even more insistent in offering you the towel to clean yourself up. When you refuse to take the towel from him, he kneels down next to you and leans in to dab at the foamy liquid that has soaked into your hair.

Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his fingers on your jaw and you almost squeak at his close proximity. He hasn’t let you near him since your first encounter and now he’s right in front of you, so close that his breath curls around your cheeks, smelling of malted hops and the slightest hint of peppermint. You can map out the slight freckles on the bridge of his nose and each long, curled eyelash that brushes his cheeks each time he blinks.

He’s truly a beautiful man, all sharp angles and rough stubble and you can feel your cheeks warm when you realize that he’s right there. If you leaned forward just a little bit more, your noses would brush against each other.

A deep, rumbling voice interrupts your daydreaming. “Kid, are you even listening to me?”

You blink a couple times, coming to the realization that he’s been trying to talk to you for the last few minutes, but you were too busy admiring his beauty.

Keishin shakes his head as he leans back on his heels, using one hand to rub his face wearily. “As I was saying, you can’t just… say things like that. I know young girls sometimes have fantasies about older men like me, but I’m telling you now that it’ll only end badly,” he sighs. “I’m not a righteous man, I have my vices. God, do I have lots of them, and I don’t need another one.”

He mumbles the last sentence, barely loud enough for you to hear, despite how close you are.

Another one? Is he admitting that the attraction is mutual? You have to know, you just have to. Your body practically aches from how badly you want him.

“Keishin, I—” you start, reaching out to touch his arm, but he stands abruptly and quickly turns to shuffle away from the couch.

“This just isn’t a good idea, kid. Just forget about me, alright?” he says, his back to you. A tinge of regret and hesitation seeps into his words, as if he wants to take back everything he’s said.

After the beer incident, the man is even less receptive than he was before, making every effort to avoid being alone with you.

Even still, you’re not discouraged because he never outright rejected you. If he had, you would’ve stopped your pursuit weeks ago, but he only seems to be trying to maintain his composure as a righteous man.

Righteous men are wolves in sheep’s clothing, always putting on a facade so they can claim plausible deniability when they’re caught with their pants around their ankles. But no matter how honorable or virtuous a man tries to be, none of them can resist a wet, willing pussy laid out in front of them and Keishin is no exception.

That’s why you’ve shown up to their house the last few weeks in skirts far too short to be considered decent, flashing little peeks of your underwear each time you move too much or bend over too far. Each time you bend over to grab a pencil or a piece of paper off the floor, Keishin is always conveniently positioned behind you so he gets an eyeful of your pretty lace panties and the little dark spot where your wetness has soaked through the fabric.

After you retrieve your item from the ground, you look over your shoulder to make direct eye contact with him and say ‘oops,’ without a hint of regret in your voice. You revel in the clenching of his jaw and the way he exhales loud and heavy through his nose, frustration mounting each time you try to provoke him.

When your ass and clothed pussy are on display for him, you make sure to wiggle your hips a bit, an open invitation to fuck you the way you both want to. It never fails to elicit some sort of reaction from the older man, ranging from a few groans and a choked cough, to making a very hasty exit, a book or some other object held over the front of his jeans.

Without fail, Hitomi expresses her concern each time her father storms out of the room, red-faced and breathing heavily. He just waves her off, telling her he’s not feeling well, but you know the truth. He’s painfully hard, painfully hard from you, even if he doesn’t admit it.

Truthfully, if you weren’t trying to get him to fuck you so hard you can’t walk you would applaud his self-control and restraint. Even after weeks of teasing and provocation, the man refuses to give in to his desires.

That’s okay. If he’s not going to come to you, you’ll just have to take matters into your own hands.

----

It all reaches a tipping point when you’re unable to go home for winter break and Hitomi offers you their guest room to stay in for a few weeks.

Apparently she never asked her father for permission, if Keishin’s shocked, slightly panicked face when you walked through the door with your suitcase was any indication. When he tried to question Hitomi about whether or not it’s such a good idea for you to stay, she wasn’t having any of it and told him that you’re a friend in need.

Hitomi’s so sweet and caring that you feel a twinge of guilt for plotting to seduce her father in her house when she’s none the wiser. She just wanted to lend a helping hand by letting you stay with them, oblivious to your true plans, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

Now that you’re under the same roof, all you really want to do is ambush Keishin as soon as possible, but you have to plan around Hitomi’s schedule so you have bide your time. What’s the saying? Good things come to those who wait?

And wait you do. You wait for two whole weeks, in fact. But then the stars align so perfectly that some otherworldly force must be looking out for you.

Hitomi is gone to work and won’t be back until the middle of the night when her shift is over, while Keishin is home reviewing footage from his team’s latest game.

He told you he does this right before a big game so he can tell his players what they need to improve on and get in that last bit of refinement before the day of. When he clued you in on his strategy you just nodded and hummed, not really listening, mostly focused on ogling his muscles through his thin t-shirt.

Your nerves have been buzzing since you woke up this morning, sensing the heaviness in the air. You’re wearing your prettiest lace panties and its matching bra and frankly, you’re feeling pretty damn confident. You look good and you know you look good. If you were trying to seduce any guy your age, they’d drop their pants as soon as they got a little glimpse of your underwear, but Keishin’s not any guy your age. He needs a little convincing, a little push in the right direction, and you’ll be the one to help him.

You’ve flitted around the house all day, just trying to find the right moment to pounce.

Currently, Keishin is sitting in the living room watching the recording on the big flat screen in the living room. He looks preoccupied with taking notes on the notepad in his lap, but it’s now or never, you suppose.

Before you try to talk yourself out of it, you stride over to where he’s sitting and put your hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

“Hey. Did you need something? I’m kind of busy analyzing my team’s last game.”

Not wanting to lose your nerve, you wordlessly swing one leg over his, then the other, planting yourself firmly in his lap. His entire body goes ramrod stiff, hands jerking away from your body as if you’ve burned him.

“W-what do you think you’re doing?” he stutters, alarm evident in his voice.

When he makes no move to throw you off his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean into him, pressing your chest to his.

“What we both have been wanting to do since the day I met you,” you purr, lips barely brushing against the shell of his ear. He shivers when you gently nibble on his earlobe and your confidence only grows as you discover that he wants this just as much as you do.

“I d-don’t know what you’re talking about. This isn't right. I’m your friend’s father and I’m... old enough to be y-yours,” he mutters, running a hand through his already messy hair, conflicted with how to proceed.

You can’t tell whether he’s trying to convince you or himself, so you decide to give him a little encouragement.

Leaning back slightly, you run your hands down his chest and bite your lip. “Are we going to keep playing games or are you gonna fuck me? Because if not, I’ve got several guys back at college who—”

You’re cut off when Keishin’s hand wraps around your throat, the other braced against your back to pull you flush against him.

“You think your little stunts are cute, don’t you?” he growls, his minty breath washing over your face.

“What, you don’t think so, Daddy?” you pout, batting your eyelashes at him innocently.

His eyes flash with something hot and primal and you can feel the gush of wetness between your thighs. “I’m getting a little tired of them,” he growls.

“This,” you palm at the bulge straining against his pants, “Tells me otherwise, you know.”

The hand around your throat tightens, cutting off whatever bratty remark you were about to make. “I’ve had enough of you prancing around my home in tiny skirts and flashing me your panties when my daughter is around. It’s unbecoming.”

“Then t-teach me a lesson,” you gasp, struggling to speak with Keishin’s fingers so firmly wrapped around your throat.

The way he grins is downright sinful and it stokes the fire already raging inside you. “Careful what you wish for, little girl.”

With some manhandling on Keishin’s part, you’re shoved toward the couch then pulled back onto his lap, but this time you’re on your stomach and both your wrists are pinned behind your back.

“Before we go any further,” he starts, trailing his fingers down your spine and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “I have to ask… How old are you?”

You twist around to look him in the eyes, a defiant smirk on your face. “Old enough.” Your mischievous giggle is cut off by a swift, firm slap to your ass.

“Watch the lip, brat. I need a little more reassurance than that.”

“Since you’re just so concerned, I’m nineteen. Perfectly legal and more importantly, legally fuckable,” you say, punctuated by an enticing wiggle of your hips.

“Jesus, you’re two years younger than Tomi. What am I doing?” He seems lost in thought as the honorable side of him fights a losing battle against his baser, carnal instincts. Whatever reservations he has are thrown aside when you start to wiggle in his grasp, maneuvering yourself over his crotch to grind yourself against his hardness.

Keishin gathers your hair around his fist, harshly jerking your head so far backwards that your spine aches from the unnatural angle.

“Stop fucking squirming. You just don’t know how to behave, do you?” It’s phrased like a question, but he shoves two of his fingers in your mouth so you can’t respond.

You knew Keishin would be the perfect dom, but the ease with which he settles into the role makes your head spin and your insides throb. Latching onto his digits, you lick and suck like the good girl you are, coating them in saliva as he hums in appreciation.

“Foo wans tuh behav wen thith is wutt I ge fo bein ba?” you ask, garbled and muffled by the fingers massaging the back of your tongue.

A series of harder, heavier spanks make you squeal and squirm even more in his lap. He gently rubs his hand over your warm, stinging flesh as he speaks. “Such a troublemaker. Just what am I going to do with you, hm?” He tries to sound admonishing, but you can tell he’s smiling behind his words.

His hand leaves your ass, no doubt raised to spank you again, but before he can, you bite down on his fingers. Not too hard, just enough for him to jerk them out of your mouth. “You can do whatever you want to me, Daddy.”

You jolt when his thumb rubs against your pussy through your panties. They’re soaked with your slick, the material clinging to your skin uncomfortably. The barest touch has you gasping and pushing your hips back for more. You’re so sensitive from the teasing and you’re so turned on you just might pass out if you’re not filled up soon.

Keishin just laughs darkly at the pathetic humping of your hips and you can feel the rumbling in his chest. “This is what I love about girls your age. So sensitive…” He pulls your panties aside and gently eases a finger inside you, then another as you moan and shake in his lap. “And so reactive. I bet you’d cum just from me putting my cock inside this tight, wet cunt, wouldn’t you?”

He speaks with a hint of condescension that has you clenching around his digits, coating them in sticky, syrupy strands of your arousal as they pump in and out of you. You’d almost be embarrassed at how worked up you are if you had more self respect, but you don’t. All you can focus on is the way his fingertips curl into the little spongy spot inside you that makes you whine.

“Why don’t you try it and find out?” The challenge in your voice is severely dampened by how breathless and wrecked you are even though you haven’t really even done anything.

His fingers pull out of you with a lewd squelching sound and you can hear him suck them into his mouth. “You taste even better than I imagined, but I want to taste that sweet pussy of yours. Up, little girl.” He coaxes you from his lap and onto the couch so your back is nestled into the cushions.

Sweat is making hair stick to your forehead and you’re breathing so heavily you’d think you just ran a marathon, but Keishin is looking down at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world and it nearly steals what little breath you have left in your lungs.

Oxygen is the last thing on your mind when his lips slot themselves between yours, soft yet demanding as they suck and lick. The movement of his lips doesn’t falter when he pulls your shirt over your head to reveal your light pink bra. Keishin pulls back to kiss along your collarbones, neck, and chest, his teeth occasionally nipping your sensitive flesh and leaving goosebumps in their wake. He expertly removes your panties with one hand so you’re left in just your plaid skirt, exposing your heated flesh to the coolness of the living room.

You’re nearly naked but he’s wearing far too many clothes for your liking, so you blindly grab at his shirt, but your fingers are shaking too much for you to get a good grip. Once he realizes what you’re trying to do, he puts his hands over yours and helps you take off his shirt. You nearly start drooling when all of his hard, rippling muscles and smooth, tan skin are finally revealed to your greedy eyes that can’t seem to settle one thing. You don’t know if you’ll get this opportunity again and you want to remember everything in painstaking detail, especially Keishin’s gorgeous body.

He momentarily disentangles himself from you to remove his jeans, leaving him in just his Calvin Klein boxer briefs. The outline of his cock is evident as it strains against the blue material and you reach out to stroke it, but he just takes your hand in his.

He brings it to his lips, then kisses up your arm until he reaches your lips. “All in due time, sweet girl. I want to taste you first.” Your mouth is claimed in another hungry, bruising kiss and you squeal when Keishin takes your lip between his teeth and bites, blood rushing to the surface of your skin.

His head dips down to leave featherlight kisses and teasing licks down your chest and stomach before he’s resting between your thighs. You whimper pitifully as he spreads your legs, awaiting the feeling of a wet tongue or his fingers against your folds. When he doesn’t move for several beats, you come to the realization that he’s just watching the way your cunt twitches and clenches around nothing and the wetness that drips onto the couch each time your muscles contract. You quickly bring your legs together to hide yourself from his scrutinizing gaze, but he simply pries them open with little effort.

Keishin grabs your chin so you’ll look right at him, squirming from the intensity of his gaze. “Don’t you dare hide this pretty pussy from me, do you understand? I am going to devour you until I’ve had my fill and you’re going to just lie back and take it.”

You nod obediently, your impudence quickly dying, giving way to the burning ache between your legs that can only be sated by a long, hard fuck.

With a satisfied hum, he settles at the apex of your thighs and licks a long stripe from your quivering pussy to your swollen clit and your hips jerk from the contact. Strong hands pin your hips to the couch as you writhe in his firm grip. He gives your clit a soft, quick kiss before he takes it into his mouth and sucks. You grab fitfully at his hair, back arching and hips pressing into his mouth as you gasp and groan from the incredible feeling of his tongue on your sensitive flesh.

His tongue teases your entrance and your cunt twitches, anticipating the first thrust of his warm, wet muscle inside you. He occasionally dips into your hole, but never breaches your entrance and you think you might go mad if he doesn’t give you more.

“I-I need more, give me more,” you manage to gasp, grabbing a fistful of the pillow underneath you as the tightening in your belly gets stronger.

Keishin removes his mouth from your cunt just long enough to admonish you for your lack of respect. “You need to have more manners if you’re going to demand things of me,” he says, before latching back onto your swollen, twitching clit.

“Daddy, pleeease I need more. Ah! I want to cum!” Your voice is so high-pitched and whiny you almost don’t recognize yourself, but you’re nearly delirious from pleasure and your impending climax that’s been dangled over your head for what feels like hours.

“Now who am I to deny you when you ask so sweetly?”

He thrusts two of his digits inside you, reaching deep inside you and rubbing against your g-spot as he sucks your clit back into his mouth. You’re almost screaming at this point, clawing at his hair and humping your cunt against his face. The familiar tightening in your belly signals that you’re about to cum and your moans and cries get faster, louder as the promise of white hot pleasure is just within reach—

It’s almost embarrassing how fast you’re teetering on the edge of climax, as if you’re a virgin school girl that’s never touched herself before. But maybe that’s the difference that years of experience can make.

Not that you care. You just want to cum.

“Fuck, Daddy, I—I’m close!”

Sensing your impending orgasm, the man uses his free hand to slap your cheek then grabs your throat. “Uh-uh-uh,” he tuts, “Ask Daddy for permission to cum.” You’re clamping down on his fingers impossibly tighter as he fingers you even deeper, and the way he sucks on your clit renders you incapable of speech. Each time you open your mouth to try to speak, more desperate, wanton noises escape your lips.

You’re about to fucking burst at the seams and you feel like you’re on fire, but you want to be a good girl for your daddy, so you use the last bit of brain power you have left to ask for permission.

“P-pleaaase Daddy may I ahhh! May I cum!” you ask, but you can’t even hear Keishin give his approval from how loud the blood rushing in your ears is as you finally cum.

You try to muffle your cries with the back of your hand, but he grabs your wrist and wrenches it away from your mouth.

“Don’t do that. I want to hear you scream.” His tone is clipped and short, not caring how rough he is with your delicate flesh.

If you weren’t already cumming, you would have from the pleasure that’s so intense, it’s almost painful as your body is wracked with tremors. Your legs snap around Keishin’s head and you grip his hair even tighter as wave upon wave of your orgasm washes over you. You hear someone screaming and wonder what’s happening, when you realize it’s you, you’re the one screaming as you ride out your climax.

He greedily slurps and sucks up every single drop of your release that you can give him, as if he was stranded in the desert for a thousand years and your juices are the first sip of water to hit his dry, parched tongue. Your cunt is already so sensitive, painfully clenching around his fingers, but he just. Doesn’t. Stop.

“Fuck, K-Kei, wait ‘s too much,” you weakly protest, but your body is too spent to resist so you just lie there, twitching and gasping as he keeps sucking on your overstimulated clit.

His lips detach from your poor, abused bud and you almost sigh in relief before the fingers inside your cunt pump faster, stimulating every inch of your gummy walls.

Keishin leans over your sweaty, exhausted form, one hand braced on the couch, the other buried inside you. His fingers are hitting a spot inside you that makes you feel the urge to pee, so you try to push his hand away but it’s futile with how much stronger he is than you.

“Hold onnn, I’m g-gonna—” you slur, panicked, but it’s as if he didn’t hear you.

His digits are relentless, rubbing and stroking and you’re a fucked out mess. You don’t know what he wants until an uncomfortable tightness shoots through your cunt. You cry out as clear liquid gushes out of you, splashing all over you, the couch, and Keishin. If you were more coherent, you might be mortified because you just… pissed on him—

To your surprise, he’s laughing as he removes his hand from inside you, ignoring your halfhearted groans. “I was hoping you’d do that,” he says, holding up his hand, shiny and dripping with your juices.

“D-Do what?” you pant, unsure of what just happened and why Keishin seems so smug.

He uses his discarded t-shirt to wipe his hand off, then dabs at your stomach where a sizable puddle accumulated. “Squirt,” he responds. When he sees your confused expression, he follows up with, “It’s not piss, if you’re worried about that.”

“Ooookay.” You’re too dazed and exhausted to argue with him or question him further, so you just flop into the sofa and close your eyes.

“C’mon, little girl, don't tell me that’s all you’ve got. You were talking so much shit earlier and I have so much more to give you.” Despite how tired you are, his words spark new arousal in your belly and defiance revitalizes you, movement returning to your limbs.

You slide a hand down your stomach and spread the puffy lips of your cunt, sliding a finger through your wetness. “Of course it’s not. I’m ready to take that hard cock of yours, Daddy.”

“Attagirl, that’s what I like to see,” he praises, dropping his underwear and sliding them somewhere you can’t see.

His cock is gorgeous, but that doesn’t come as a surprise, considering the man it belongs to. It’s thick and curved in a way that you know will reach the deepest parts of you.

What you weren’t expecting is the many piercings adorning the shaft and the one that goes through the head. A long curved barbell enters through the tip and exits through the underside of his glans. Three evenly spaced rings are embedded in the skin where his shaft meets his balls. You’ve never seen so many piercings on one man, let alone in such a sensitive place, so you gawk at the smooth metal rings that shine in the overhead lights.

“You’re… You have…”

He grins widely and it’s so devilish you think he might swallow you whole and honestly? You’d let him. You’d let him do whatever he wants to you. “Haha, yeah I get that reaction a lot. Never seen a pierced cock before, huh?”

“No, but there’s a first time for everything. I’m dying to see how those,” you point to his piercings, “Feel inside me.”

Keishin wordlessly climbs on top of you and rubs the head against your wetness, spreading it along his shaft to ease his entry. “They’ll feel fucking incredible, but you’ll have to beg for it.”

You scoff, reaching to grab his hips so he’ll fuck you already, but he scoots backwards so you can’t touch him.

“Naughty girls that misbehave don’t get fucked, so you’d better smarten up quickly,” he warns, making you gasp as he thrusts his cock against your clit.

He lazily nudges the head over your flesh, occasionally letting it catch on the tight ring of muscle around your hole. When he slots between your pussy lips, you try to wiggle and hump your hips in his direction, in hopes that he’ll slide right in.

But he doesn’t, and you’re about to go mad with his cock so close, but so far away.

“Please fuck me Daddy. I need your cock so bad!” You’re on the verge of tears, the buildup of the last few weeks overwhelming your senses.

Making a noise of sympathy, Keishin pets your hair affectionately and kisses your cheek. “All you had to do was ask.”

His hips pull back, then he’s thrusting inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt in your tight heat. You whimper and whine at the sudden intrusion, but any pain you feel is overshadowed by the way that his cock is filling you so full. The burn and stretch hurts so fucking good that your orgasm hits you like a freight train, fast and hard and blinding. Keishin fucks you through it, his cock touching all of the sensitive spots inside you and the pleasure is so strong you have to screw your eyes shut as you cry out and fall apart around him.

When you open them again, the man is staring down at you with the most shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen. “See? I said you’d cum as soon as I put my cock inside you.”

Using all the strength you can muster, you slap his arm. “Shut up and just fuck me.”

“You still haven’t learned your manners, but I just can’t wait to shoot my cum deep inside this cute cunt of yours,” Keishin groans, pulling almost all the way out before burying himself back inside the hot, welcoming clutch of your pussy.

You can feel each of the metal rings on his cock, foreign and strange, but the odd feeling soon fades to little shocks of ecstasy each time they brush against your insides.

The lewd slapping sounds of skin on skin are all you can hear besides the occasional moan or hiss from the man fucking you within an inch of your life, not that you can focus on anything else right now.

You nudge at Keishin’s shoulder and he stops the rapid pistoning of his hips, an almost annoyed look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, but you just smile and push him backwards onto the couch, just like you were. He grunts in surprise as he falls backward, but he quickly quiets down when you climb on top of him and sink yourself back down on his length.

You both moan in unison as he fills you once more, the tip of his cock pressing against your cervix each time you force your cunt back down on him. His hands wander to your tits, grabbing, squeezing, and pinching the sensitive buds of your nipples.

Ever the troublemaker, you can’t resist making a jab at him now that you’re on top. “I wonder what she’d do if she knew you were with me right now. What would your daughter say about you taking advantage of a young, helpless girl?”

Keishin takes that moment to pull you against him, thrusting hard and rough into your gummy walls that never stop pulsing around him. You’re shaking and gasping, your tongue lolling out of your mouth in your pleasured delirium. “With the way your greedy, sloppy cunt is clenching around me, I wouldn’t say I’m taking advantage of you,” he points out, only slightly out of breath. “But you get off on this, don’t you? Letting an old man like me fuck you. I’m old enough to be your father.”

“Like you’re any b-better,” you bite back.

You cry out when Keishin starts rubbing your swollen clit in tight little circles, your third orgasm fast approaching.

“Fuck! I can—urgh, I can feel your pussy pulsing around me. I’m g-gonna cum,” he grits out, thrusting impossibly deeper inside you. He's pressed so far into you, he’s just thumping the head of his cock against your cervix. You scream and write in his arms, seeking to relieve the sharp burning in your womb just a little bit, but he has you firmly locked in his clutches. “Be a good little girl and cum for Daddy.”

Almost on command, you shake and moan, loud and long, as you cream all over his cock and coat the base in milky white. “Oh fuck, oh god! D-Daddy I’m cu-mming!” you wail with the last of your energy.

You’re so exhausted you go limp against him and let him use your body as a fuck toy until he reaches his climax. Keishin follows soon behind you, his thrusts growing sloppier and less coordinated as he mumbles obscenities under his breath. “Shit shit shit, fuck I’m cumming! I’m gonna—fuck!”

With one last thrust into your fluttering, over stimulated cunt he orgasms, his legs shaking as he shoots rope after rope of cum into your quivering womb.

You both lay there for several minutes to catch your breaths. You’re so sore and boneless you can barely move, but you manage to extricate yourself from Keishin’s long limbs. Leaning into the arm of the couch, you let your eyes flutter closed and allow sleep to take you.

You’re awoken by a warm, wet washcloth rubbing against your sensitive folds and you whine, sleepily wiggling your hips to get away from the discomfort. “Kid, I know it doesn’t feel good but, uh, it’s kind of a mess down there. You can go back to sleep, just let me clean you up.” Keishin’s familiar timbre comforts you so you settle back down, still half asleep.

“Mmm, Keishin?” you mumble, making grabby hands at the man.

He takes one of your hands in his. “Yeah?” he responds as he wipes the washcloth between your legs with his other hand.

You rub your face against his hand before placing a sloppy kiss on top of it. “Thank youuuu,” you slur.

Keishin just chuckles and rubs his fingers over your knuckles. “Yeah kid, you’re welcome. Just get some rest, alright?”

You’re asleep before he even finishes the sentence.

----

When you awaken it’s dark, most likely the middle of the night. There’s a blanket thrown over your unexpectedly clothed body, which is now covered in a worn, oversized shirt. It smells like fabric softener and musk, so you figure it must be Keishin’s.

Looking around, you bolt upright when you realize you’re not on the living room couch anymore, you’re now in a large, comfortable bed.

The sound of a deep, rumbling voice draws your attention to the bathroom connected to the room you’re currently in. “Oh, you’re finally awake,” Keishin says sheepishly as he emerges from the bathroom, then points to the nightstand next to you. “There’s some water and ibuprofen, you should take it. Even if you’re not sore now, you will be later.”

You chuckle tiredly as you stretch your overworked muscles. “I’m already sore, so I’ll definitely be taking these.”

He sits awkwardly on the side of the bed, unsure how to treat you after your little encounter. His brows are furrowed, a deep frown on he’s seemingly deep in thought.

“Whatever you’re thinking, just spit it out.” His head immediately snaps to you, eyes guarded and unreadable.

“What we did downstairs, it’s… not right. I’m supposed to protect young, impressionable girls like you. I’m a father—I would die if Tomi was after a man more than twice her age.”

You pull the blanket off of you and climb over to where the older man is seated on the mattress. “Keishin, let me ask you something.” He lifts his head, expectant. “Did you enjoy what we did? Because I did.” He nods slowly, still unsure what you’re getting at.

Taking his face in your hands, you tell him what you’ve been thinking for weeks. “At the end of the day, we’re two consenting adults who partook in consensual activities. Even if someone wants to clutch their pearls because you’re older than me, who cares?”

“Yeah, I get that, but… It has to be some sort of ethics violation on my part. You’re younger than my daughter, Bunny.”

“Even if it is, you have to allow yourself to live a little. Life is too short to deny yourself pleasures the world has to offer, and I don’t know about you, but I was very pleased by our… tryst.”

A cute blush spreads across Keishin’s cheeks as he remembers everything he said and did to you. “Aha, I was too. So, um… Would you want to do that again, sometime?” he asks, running a hand through his hair like he always does when he’s nervous.

You giggle and tackle him on the bed, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing. “Of course I do. We can even do it now, if you’d like…”

A couple hours later, just before Hitomi comes back, you limp across the hallway to your room and pass out, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

And that is how your little arrangement begins.

Most of your time is spent with Hitomi, mostly shopping and going out to eat when she has the day off, or just watching Netflix in her room when you’re both too tired to go anywhere.

However, in the wee hours of the morning when you’re sure that she’s asleep, you sneak up to her father’s bedroom and get fucked so hard and so good you can barely make it back to your bedroom before the sun rises.

It’s a good arrangement, you think, you both get what you want and your friend is none the wiser. You figure no harm, no foul. At the end of the winter break, Keishin will likely want to cut things off with you and you’ll go back to your college dorm as if nothing happened.

But the winter break isn’t over yet, and you plan on making the most of it.

Keishin has been fucking you into the mattress for so long, time no longer even makes sense anymore.

You’re sweaty and exhausted, muscles so sore and shaky, but the thrusting between your legs shows no signs of stopping anytime soon. The harsh grip on your hips will likely bruise, but luckily you can hide them, unlike the few close calls you’ve had with poorly-placed marks on your neck.

Despite your exhaustion, you continue to meet Keishin’s thrusts by humping your hips back at him.

He gives your ass a harsh spank and fucks into you harder, making you whine and clench around him. “You’re an insatiable little thing, aren’t you? So fucked out and dripping with my cum, yet you still want more,” he says, but all you can do is gasp in response. You’re too far gone to produce any meaningful response. “What am I going to do with you?” If you had the energy, you’d tell him whatever he wants, but you don’t and the familiar tug of an orgasm is too hard to ignore.

“Fuck Daddy, I-I’m—”

Suddenly, his phone comes to life, Hitomi’s face lighting up the screen as it vibrates. The pistoning of his hips slows, then stops completely as he reaches over and grabs it off the nightstand.

He suddenly pulls out of your sore, abused cunt and you almost whine at the loss before he buries himself back inside you. The way your face is pressed into the mattress makes it difficult, but you manage to turn your head to see what Keishin is doing behind you.

Your eyes widen and you try to wriggle out of his grip when you figure out that he’s going to answer his phone as he keeps fucking you.

A hand wraps around your neck, lifting you up from your position on the bed and you have to follow its movement to prevent your windpipe from getting crushed. You’re pressed against Keishin’s hard chest, and his cock is nestled right against your cervix. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll just stay still and take it like a good little girl.”

The harsh grip on your neck releases and you’re shoved back into the bed, falling onto the comforter.

Keishin sounds completely normal when he answers his phone and it almost pisses you off—how can he be so unaffected when you’re at your wit’s end?

He chirps into the phone, “Hey sweetheart, what’s up?” The only indication that anything is amiss is the slight breathlessness in his voice and the occasional curse under his breath.

He forces himself even deeper inside you so forcefully that you’re afraid he’ll punch straight through to your womb. You know it’s not possible, but with Keishin, it just might be. He’s always full of surprises, especially when it comes to your body.

“Oh yeah, sure I can drop it off to you later. I’m just a little… preoccupied at the moment,” he says with a sharp thrust of his hips and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips. Keishin stiffens above you, waiting to see if Hitomi heard you through the phone.

“No, Hitomi, I’m not watching porn! But hold on a second, I think someone is at the door.” He sets the phone on the bed, muting the call as his cock hits your g-spot and you’re shaking, practically shivering in his arms. A couple of hard, coordinated rubs of your engorged clit and you’re cumming, gushing around him and keening as your muscles clench uncomfortably. You scream silently and fall limp onto the bed, unable to hold yourself up any longer.

You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum, but it’s to the point that each successive orgasm borders on the edge of pleasure and pain.

“Better keep quiet, wouldn’t want my daughter to hear you getting your pretty little cunt stuffed full of my cock,” Keishin snarls into your ear and you feel yourself clench painfully around him. Your body is just so worn out, but you know he won’t stop until he’s satisfied. “Or do you want her to know what a slut you are for her father?”

You shake your head vehemently, but the man inside you just chuckles as he keeps fucking you.

“Oh my god, oh fuck I-I…” You’re babbling nonsense to no one in particular.

“Ahh it was just-fuck, it was just some dude trying to sell me security cameras. Anyways, I’ll see you later honey, I love you.” His last few sentences sound rushed, urgent and you can tell from the twitching of his length that he’s close. The moment the phone is hung up, Keishin cages you between his body and the mattress. “Your cunt feels so fucking good, I’m gonna fill you up with my cum. Would you like that?”

You try to nod and make a noise akin to ‘mhm,’ but you’re not sure what it sounds like. You’re not really sure of anything right now, but what you are sure of is you want him to cum inside you.

“I could never deny you anything, sweet girl,” he groans.

Keishin fucks into you harder, faster, and it feels as if he’s quite literally rearranging your guts, he’s so deep inside you. He reaches down between your legs and pinches your sensitive bud between his fingers. “Think you have one more in you, hm?” he asks, but he doesn’t wait for your answer. Of course you do.” He rubs your sore clit the way he knows will have you shaking and coming apart around him.

“Fuck Daddy, fuck I’m cumming!” you squeal, writhing and squirming from the painful, aching tightness of your orgasm as it builds once more.

“Ergh, fuck yeah, cum on Daddy’s cock as he fills you up. You’re such a good fucking girl for me, I love this sweet pussy.”

You shriek as you cum, your climax so strong that your vision blurs at the edges and you convulse, sore muscles twitching with overuse.

“Daddy’s gonna breed his sweet little girl, fuck, feels so fucking good!” Keishin groans, burying himself as deeply as he can inside you and shooting his cum into your quivering hole. You sigh in relief at the feeling of his warm cum flooding your womb, thankful he finally came because you couldn’t have lasted much longer in your state.

He flops next to you on the bed, sweaty and exhausted from your hours-long fuck marathon. Throwing an arm over your waist, he pulls you to his chest and buries his nose in your neck.

Hitomi’s not supposed to come back for several hours, so you both deem it safe to fall asleep as you are. Just when you’re about to drift off, your phone buzzes from the bedside table.

You reach for your phone, expecting it to be some spam email.

Your heart stops, the whole world seems to freeze when you open the text message.

From: Tomie <3

So when were you going to tell me you’re fucking my dad?

#haikyuu smut #ukai x reader #ukai smut #haikyuu x reader #ukai keishin #server collab #bunny scribbles #hq smut #hq fanfic #hq reader insert #haikyuu imagines

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littlefreya · 4 years

Text

Professor Cavill, Sir

Summary: Professor Cavill keeps giving you failing grades on your assignments even though you are 100% certain you are a brilliant student. You decide to march down to his office and confront him.

Pairing: AU!Henry Cavill x Reader

Word count: 3K

Warnings: Abuse of power, MaleDom / FemSub, teasing, fingering, dirty talk, orgasm denial, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, creampie. (Basically all the good stuff)

A/N: While composing this post, I noticed I passed my 1500 followers. So first and foremost, THANK YOU, thank you for following, believing in me and sending me DMs. You are just as important to me. I’ll probably write a more emotional thank you post tonight. But just had to say something now 🥺

Thanks the anon who made this prompt request! And thanks @agniavateira for being my beta and muse.

I also recommend reading @ladyreapermc astonishing professor Cavil stories!!!

Title: Professor Cavil, Sir

You know you are a good student, you’re brilliant, even smarter than the airheads who harbour the classroom. Yet, Professor Cavill seems to have some sort of beef with you. He marches around the classroom, giving you cold stares and your grades are constantly dropping with each assignment you hand over.

Fine, he is beyond handsome and all the girls are soaked for him but damn, you hate this man with passion and you’ve had it. You wait one afternoon when the halls of the academy are nearly empty so you can march into his office and tell him exactly what you think.

You play the scenario in your mind for hours. You know exactly what you are going to say and how but the moment you barge into his office, your words melt into an incoherent cluster of yelling that don’t make much sense by the look on Professor Cavill’s face.

“I am a smart woman!!! You... you... you have no right!!!”

The professor crooks his right eyebrow, peering at you from an assignment he is browsing through. He seems unimpressed by your dramatic entrance, putting the paper on his desk and then finally gesturing for you to sit at his desk.

Heaving from the anxiety that’s about to burst your heart, you shut the door and take two strides to sit in front of him, feeling the blush burn from your cheeks down to your chest. It takes less than a minute for you to conclude that you are a meek, little fly that walked straight into the web of a big, hungry spider.

Henry laces his hands together, elbows resting on the wooden desk and his eyes seeking yours with a grin, which in your rage you only interpret as arrogance.

“Yes, you’re smart. You are the most brilliant student in my class.” he compliments, which does nothing but make the rush of blood escalate and flow ecstatically to your nether regions.

“But you don’t see much.”

You give a sheepish stare, feeling your ears burn in embarrassment as he gets up from his chair and shifts to half-sit on the corner of the desk, blocking your only way out. Somehow, the only thing that goes through your head is “fuck me”.

These words nearly roll on your tongue as you open your mouth, staring at professor Cavill’s god-like face.

“I...”

“Am I wrong?” he asks you, his fingers reaching beneath your chin, the soft pads of his tips bumping it up so your gaze will entwine.

“Tell me, do you wish to leave?”

“No,” you hear your own voice tremble as you answer.

A deep crease appears at his cheek as his lips stretch into a slanted smirk. His fingers leave your chin to remove his glasses and lay them on the desk. His eyes shine at you, glistening with lust. “What do you want then?”

Your lips part, heart beating through your throat. The tendon at your neck twitches, sure that he can see it too.

“I want you to fuck me on your desk.”

Henry’s icy glare travels upon the outlines of your face, studying each freckle carefully. No words come out from the man who speaks so greatly, his cold silence challenging, tiny sparks of panic waking at the back of your head.

What have I done?! Have I misunderstood his intentions? Was this just all happening in my mind?

You swallow the dry lump in your throat, about to open your mouth to a gush of apologies when Henry’s large palm lifts to ghost above your jaw. His thumb meets the plumpness of your lips and tugs at your bottom lip to dampen the pad of his finger.

"Such a dirty mouth you’ve got there,” he comments. His velvety British accent sends tremors to the walls of your beating core. The slightest of touch makes your panties embarrassingly moist, viscid against the petals of your womanhood. Shifting in the chair uncomfortably, the black knife-pleated skirt ascends and exposes the silkiness of your legs. Much of a treat to his famished icicles.

Saturated dreams of Professor Cavill kept you sweaty in the middle of the night, as any of the women attending his course. It wasn’t just his thick dark hair that curled at the edge and the criminally-sculpted cheekbones, nor was it that broad structure hidden underneath a buttoned-down blue shirt. It was his confidence, his stark charisma. Passion shimmered in his eyes when he spoke about wars throughout history and razed enemy cities.

Damn if you didn’t want him to destroy yours.

“Spread your legs, let me see you.” he demands, his voice deepening along with the shade of his gaze. No thoughts of protest come to mind. You obey, surrendering every will to his demand, thighs pressed open to each side of the wooden office chair.

Henry’s index finger rims your mouth from east to west, toying the red pillows of your lips and sliding the tip inside to flirt with your whispering tongue.

“Now, roll your panties down your knees.”

Cold shivers run through the sinew of your muscles like an electric current, making you spasm on the chair, unhidden from Henry’s satisfaction. He scoffs at your behavior, a small grin painting his chiseled jaw. You’re behaving like a virgin, all doe eyes and trembling knees. You’re certain he finds you pathetic to the point of humor.

“Be a good girl and I’ll fuck you like a bad one.”

Taking a deep breath, you hook your fingers onto the elastic band of your panties and slowly pull them down to your knees. The cold air of the room hits the exposed groove of your body and you hiss at the sensation, throbbing with excitement and fright.

The bulge in Henry’s trousers appears to be threateningly large, the outlines of his cock winking toward your desirable image. You nearly bite his fingertip as your mind sinks into momentary fantasies of how specifically large his cock is beneath those cream-colored trousers.

It would be a lie to say you haven’t glanced at that region of his groin during his classes once or twice.

Henry reaches his free hand to lift your skirt and peek at your mound, his tongue flicking over the freckle of his bottom lips as he finds you sleek with arousal. The wooden surface is damp with your sweat and the smooth elixir of your cunt.

It makes him smile in a way that nearly makes you feel ashamed.

“Suck,” he orders and his fingers enter your mouth before you even choose to question. Shoving deep to challenge your devotion to him. Your tongue laps around skin and bone, cheeks hollowing out instinctively as you coat him with your saliva and hum at the sensation of having him in your mouth.

A low growl forms in the pit of his chest, loud enough to vibrate at your reddening ears. He is impressed by how submissive you are to his wanton, completely opposite to the way you’ve rudely barged into his office. When you woke up this morning you had every intention of showing him how little you think of him and his grades, and yet here you are, dripping on his chair like some shameless slut.

This is a dangerous ground; you’re treading on thin ice, but there is no will power strong enough to stop you.

From the moment you walked into this room, you were already his.

“Such a good girl.”

His fingers slide out of your mouth, glistening with your spit in the warm lighting of his cozy office. With shallow breathing and quivering lips, your fists grip the edge of the chair with fear while his fingers descend and disappear beneath your skirt.

A lingering gasp leaves your mouth as his fingers spread open your folds. Probing inside almost clinically, as a thing to be toyed with. His fingers push knuckle deep, exploring the warmth of your soaking pit and grinding in slightly to elicit pathetic little moans from your throat.

“You know how much I’ve longed for this?”

His thick baritone sends shivers down your neck as he leans closer to half-whisper against your ear. Small whimpers escape from your lips in response.

Henry slips even deeper, thumb ghosting over your yearning clit, mimicking phantom circles in the air in order to torture you. Begging, you attempt to push forward and grind at his fingers for more friction but you are answered with the scolding tick of his tongue.

“You’ll come when I say so.”

“Professor Hen…”

A pained hiss shudders through you, tiny creases forming at the corners of your eyes as you shut them tightly due to the pain that stings your scalp. Henry’s fist closes over your hair, tugging your head back to punish your disobedience.

Deep in the cells which survey logic in your mind you know you shouldn’t like this.However, your body tells a different tale: skin tingling, slit clenching around his fingers just from the rush of fear.

“I can’t wait to feel your sweet little pussy around my cock,” he murmurs in a husky voice, his fingers pumping slightly, curling within your succulent cavern to learn each of your vocal reactions. You are spasming around him as inch by inch he seeks inside you, obsessed with desire to find that one spot that will reduce you to nothing but a boneless being.

“Aww…” he coos at your teetering yips, his lips perched into a mocking pout as he sees the begging in your big, aching eyes. Holding the natural need of your body hurts, like molten fire, all pent-up inside. You can feel it coursing through each organ of your body, intensified by the hard shoves of his fingers. You’re nearly lifted from your seat by the force of his thrusts.

“You want to come, my sweet darling?”

“Please, Sir!” for a moment there you thought you were asking, but what comes out of your mouth is nothing but a humiliating whine. Aching inside, your fists numb over, your shaking legs get drenched with sweat as his hairy arm constantly strokes between your knees. Impassioned, he pumps into you back and forth, thrilled by the way you melt around his fingers as his tips tickle your most sacred pleats.

“You can come, sweetheart.”

The room goes black for a few seconds as pleasure takes the reins, railing you toward your orgasm with incredible force. A cluster of cries drains from your mouth. You’ve never had anyone deny your pleasure, not like this. The pain was harrowing yet the payoff makes you reach stars, your state of paradise was prolonged and for a moment, you float on air.

“Good girl.” Henry growls praises at you, his fingers sliding outside your convulsing cunt and slipping into his own mouth as he suckles on your honey. He lets out a hum, his tongue lapping over his fingertips while his eyes pierce into yours.

Still catching on your breath, you look at the professor, his face glowing as the sunset beams through the window, coloring his criminally beautiful face in gold and amber hues. There is a murmur dancing in your heart, still not believing that this man, who you spent lonely nights pining for, is about to put himself inside you.

Grasping your waist, Henry collects you with surprising ease from the chair, sitting your ass on his desk so harshly the mahogany surface slaps your naked ass. His hands press your legs apart as he moves to stand between them. You see the flames of lust burning in his eyes, as tough and authoritative as he is. Yet his lower lip still twitches with a wisp, desire weakening his roots.

You dare to touch him, tracing the shape of his jaw, dipping your finger in the strong dimple of his chin. Aggravated, he snaps your hand away, forcing it flat against the desk. He then grabs your nape, pulling you into a rough kiss that takes whatever control that was left to you. His tongue invades your mouth, a tinge of strong macchiato and cinnamon tickling your senses as your mouths play with one another.

You hear the metal clasp and the brush of leather as he unbuckles his belt and your eyes immediately fall to his groin, eager to finally see him.

Fuck.

Struck, you break away from his punishing lips, gaping at the vastness of his meaty cock. You clench your thighs around his legs, heart flinching just from the sight of it, intimidated and even frightened by the thought of him spreading your insides. A dry chuckle leaves his throat and his hand reaches to grasp himself, tugging his own pink cock and then slapping it against your cunt. He relishes the hisses and wet sounds that are produced from your pussy.

“Afraid you can’t take it?”

“You’re huge.”

You chew on your lips and moan as he slides the base of his cock between your folds smoothly, patronizingly, coating himself with your thick juices back and forth with an incubus smirk. “You know how amazing is your body, darling?” he asks and slides just the tip of his erection inside before pulling out and stroking himself against the length of your swollen lips once again. Feeble and pitiful you mewl with desperation, slouching your shoulders back, frustrated.

You want to beg but words won’t even meet your tongue.

“How much your cunt can stretch…” his words fall short as he groans with awe once his thick cock enters the narrow corridors of your slit. Inch by inch he invades, spreading you open in an agonizing pace.

Inarticulate sounds birth in your throat as his cock sheaths into your cervix. You are raw and taut, flesh throbbing furiously around his girth that fills you just right. He is thick and pulsating, enclosed by quivering velvet walls.

“Shhh…” he presses a finger to his lips and then to yours as broken moans run through your mouth.

Nodding, you purse your lips, swallowing a whimper that’s as a result of your sex throbbing together with eagerness. Henry kisses your forehead as a praise and pulls back slowly, leaving nothing but the head of his shaft, creating a sad empty void before plunging back in, achingly slow to the rhythm of your gasps.

You are fucked, in every sense of the word. The large man has a majestic hold over you; your organs don’t belong to you anymore, even your breath feels borrowed as Henry begins to pound you over his desk with guttural grunts. His hands latch beneath your knees, ramming into you like an ardent machine, yet not with a lack of style. Every pound edges you across the border of heaven, keeping quiet is nearly impossible and every cry that escapes you is punished by a hard thrust.

Your palms sweat on his desk as you flatten them behind you, your panties dangling from your ankles. Henry controls everything to the very last drop of your lust, fucking into you, slapping your wet pussy like an angry train with passionate speed.

Henry strokes all the right spots inside you, his thickness causing a trillion little spasms to sway from your apex.

Incoherent musings run through your mind; you want him to take everything, fuck you like a slut and empty his cock into your willing womb. He reaches the deepest part inside you and the most insidious thoughts take over your soul as you come undone. Your body jitters with the explosion of stars, your cunt tremoring tightly around him, demanding his rich offerings.

“I’m on the pill!”

You call breathlessly, still teetering on the strands of rapture as he twitches inside you in eager response. Henry stares at you surprised, his mouth agape as if in disbelief. He drops his gaze to where you are connected, staring at his cock sinking into your cage of delights. With his fists cuffed around your needs he slams into you ferociously, his balls thudding against your cunt with zeal, swelling and growling with bliss until he empties all of him inside you.

“Fuck!” Henry grunts, attempting to catch his breath. His sweaty forehead rests onto yours, his lips hovering, trembling at your mouth. You let your shaky hands cradle his square face, fingertips collecting droplets of sweat and smearing it down the lines of his cheeks. The powerful man who just dominated you is nothing but a gentle giant, swaying into your soothing touch.

There is a mess on his desk as he shifts away. His thick semen spills from your pummeled hole and you see the twisted pride in his eyes. You reach to slip your panties on, your chest beating angrily as you struggle to breathe.

“I hope you are not just doing this for your grades,” he warns as he zips his trousers back and leans against his bookcase, staring at you while you make a futile effort to fix your messy appearance. Your underwear is soaked with him and you dread the thought of walking home stained, smelling like sex.

“I am not a whore.” you answer, a tinge of anger at your throat. You wonder for a second if you are the only one and your heart sinks with fear, your head feeling slightly dizzy. “And you just admitted to fixing my grades so you could get me in this position, that’s the kettle cal..”

“I never said you are.” he stops you, running a hand over his hair and fixing an errant curl at the top of his head. His fierce stare searches for something in your soul.

“I’d like to do this again.”

You blink at him wordlessly, trying to figure out what sort of fantasy you just stumbled into. Obviously, there is not a bone in your body that wants you to refuse as you glance at the man of your dreams, offering you a suggestive grin.

Then it finally strikes you. You just entered a dirty bad romance.

___________________________________________________

DM me if you wish to be added/removed

#Henry Cavill #AU!Henry Cavill #Professor Cavill #Professor Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill Fanfiction #henry cavill x reader

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hisoknen · 4 years

Text

no promises || overhaul

warnings: apocalypse au, dubcon, mind break, overstimulation, orgasm denial, blood, physical trauma/injury in beginning, death of side characters wc: 2.8k

a/n: this is a piece for the bnharem collab!! make sure you go check out the other apocalypse au’s here! special thank you to @joyousandverywarlike for beta reading @thewheezingwyvern brain storming with me + helping with medical stuff!

It was heard through the grapevine that the Shie Hassaikai had stockpiled food. They had first aid and many other things that were impossible to come by in the time since the collapse.

Guards too cocky and relaxed to cover the premises. A few groups in your surrounding area had entered the compound successfully and although you have a small team and little backup, the need for provisions is far too great to ignore.

Going in with your recovery group, you quickly make silent entry into the warehouse. Despite the current circumstances in the world, this place was stocked full and spotless. You couldn't help but notice that there wasn’t a single speck of dust in the whole place, almost like no one ventured down here.

“I'm gonna head to the front Y/n, be smart. Gather as much as you can but not too much, we still gotta navigate out of this place quickly.” Your captain says in a hushed tone before advancing.

“Remember, no one gets left behind.”

In the years before, chaos had overtaken the world. Those without a high standing in society were left in the dust to fend for themselves. It had been 10 years since the collapse of society. Only the wealthy and well connected were able to continue their lives of luxury, while the rest of the world was left to feed on the scraps of what remained.

Shrugging the bag off of your shoulders and swinging it to your front, you unzip it and begin locating the necessary items for your team. If this is a success, you could not only head out with enough provisions for your crew, but you would also have a place to come back to in the future.

How could you possibly gage what is too much and what isn’t enough? You need food, clothing and first aid. If you grab more gauze than food, what would happen if you ran out of provisions? There is no way to eat gauze. What is most important?

“Y/n, time to go,” you hear your captain's voice behind you seeing only his back as he heads to the exit. Quietly locating the last of the things within reach, you zip up the bag, turning back to the entrance you came in through.

Your bag is heavier than it should be but you are known for being fast on your feet. Sprinting quietly, you open the door, catching sight of your team. “Y/n is here, we’re all ready to go.” You smile, taking a step before a loud noise sounds through your ear drums.

What is this? Your body is overcome with a dazed feeling. You run your fingers along the side of your stomach, the damp and sticky cloth clinging to your fingers. Bringing your fingers slowly up to your eyes you see a sickly vibrant red coating them.

The words of your captain, no one gets left behind, play over and over in your mind as you are struck by the realization of what has just happened. They wouldn’t leave you, would they?

Your legs begin to lose their strength, hand grasping at the door frame while you begin to slide down. The slick on your fingers helps none as the concrete below comes into contact with your skull. The muffled sound of yelling in the distance, the bodies you see fleeing the warehouse and an overwhelming ringing are all you can focus on.

No one gets left behind. No one gets left behind. No one gets left behind. Clutching at your stomach, you attempt to lessen the blood oozing from the wound.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. You command yourself, gathering your last bit of strength to press your other hand onto the floor. You gain footing, only to fall flat once again, the blood spilling between the cracks in your fingers. You can’t feel anything, everything is numb.

“What do you think you’re doing, little one?” A distorted shadow looms over you, pain coursing through your body as something blunt makes contact with your back. You hear a deafening pop followed by a searing pain in your chest. You let out a silent scream, immediately regretting it as the breath catches in your throat. Lungs collapsing in on themselves as you try in vain to take in air.

The pain once sharp now radiates in your gut. Each breath you try to take feels like breathing underwater. Your vision is fuzzy. You try desperately to gulp air to keep yourself conscious. The ache is debilitating.

You can feel it spreading to your ribs even as you stop moving, your head pulsing. The air around you feels heavy. There is no way to process the pain. All you can do is feel, as it overtakes your senses. You try in vain to move once more, vision fading to black.

—

Your eyes feel like they are glued shut, only just able to slip them open before snapping them shut immediately. There is a blinding light overhead beaming down on you. A sharp pain riddling through your body, stomach spasming. You let out an incoherent garble at the blistering sensation.

The constriction multiplies the existing pain tenfold. You try to pull your hand to cradle your wound, only to feel a sharp cinch at your wrists. Craning your eyes down, you see that they are strapped securely into place with a thin but strong plastic.

“Hel-,” you struggle against your limbs screaming out in agony for you to keep quiet in order to preserve energy. Where were you? Who was there to call for? Your friends? Your team? They’d all left you the moment you were shot. Crying for help is useless but what else can you do? The more you try to move, the more the pain jolts through your body. You can see that your stomach is bandaged but there is still a vibrant red slowly seeping through it.

“I’d sit still if I were you. Seem to have broken a rib or two along with that,” a muffled voice comes from your side, gloved hand pointing at your belly. The pulsing of your head keeps you from turning it as you let out a pathetic winded gasp, wrists jerking against the binds.

“Judging by the injuries you sustained, you’re going to be bedridden for quite some time.” The man had a plague doctor mask covering his nose and mouth leaning down into your line of sight. Through your blurred vision, you can make out his pale skin matched with short, shaggy, brown hair.

If you weren’t occupied by the fear flooding your senses, you’d find the small golden irises peeking out at you quite beautiful. You flinch away, letting out a pathetic cry as a gloved hand lands softly on your injured belly. The movement only adds to the searing pain already pumping through your veins.

“What’s your name, little thing?” Bile rises in your throat as the pressure pushing dow and predicament begin to register in your clouded mind. You tighten your lips, eyebrows furrowing. There was no way you’d give him information about your group, even if your life depended on it.

He stares down at you unblinking, rolling up his sleeves with a huff. Removing the wet bandage he digs a gloved finger into the wound, tearing a shriek from your lips, vision spotting. The more you struggle and wheeze, the more prominent the ache in your belly becomes. His fingers curl inside of the weeping hole, tears blinding your vision, body blistering hot. There was no breath left to cry out.

“Y/n-” you choke out, nails tearing into your palm as you fight in vain to distract yourself from the tearing of your flesh and guts. His fingers slowly ease out, allowing you to relax for a moment.

“You made me do such a disgusting thing.” He cringes behind the mask, bringing a towel to wipe away at the blood covering his gloved hand. You see the skin on his forehead break out in small bumps.

He reaches out of your sight facing you again with a clean pair of gloves.

“Please don’t kill me,” you plead with trembling lips. All you wanted to do was provide for those you loved. Why hadn’t you died when you were shot? Did he really bring you here to torture you? Hadn’t you had enough?

“No promises.” His gaze is cold and calculating, inspecting you as though you are nothing more than a pile of filth. “They left you here all alone,” he muses, “but don’t you worry, they didn’t make it far,” he says unamused, itching at his forearm with the untainted glove. You can see the skin under his hands had begin to rise, angry bumps littering the area.

“All of the-” horror overcomes you as you think of the faces of your friends and family. Looking up at his blank face gives you all the confirmation that you need.

“I might let you leave, we’ll see. I think we can both help each other right now, Y/n.” A twisted look overtakes his face as he observes you, awaiting an answer. What does he want from you? Your team's location? Who you got intel from?

“You came all this way to steal from me, I’m making you an offer.” He tilts his head to the side, looking displeased at your lack of response.

“What do you want?” you growl, pulling at your restraints, immediately regretting it when you feel the raw ache of your struggle.

“You know, it’s hard being cooped up in here, all alone,” his fingers lightly dance along the raised skin on your arm. “No one there for me when I need them. No one to please me.” His hand makes its way to the outline of your collar bone.

“You all think it’s hard out there. But imagine being me.” Your stomach churns at his suggestion that living a life of luxury is more painful than the thousands of people scavenging the remnants of the world for supplies necessary to make it through to the next day. “You look clean enough,” he ponders aloud. You couldn’t tell if he was even talking to you or reassuring himself.

“So what do you say? You give yourself to me for a while and we can act like this whole incident never happened.” The words falling from his lips make your stomach reel, yet they were filled with sweet temptation.

Were you willing to let this man do anything he pleased to you in order to make it out of here alive? Would there be anything for you to go back to if he even followed through with his word? If there was, how would you explain to your camp why you were the only one to return?

“Yes,” you bite your tongue, swallowing your pride. It dawned on you that you were in no place to refuse in the first place. He would take what he wanted from you regardless of what your answer was. Your survival depended on your ability to choose when to fight your battles.

“You’re a smart one,” he lets out a soft chuckle, brushing his hands across your inner thigh and trailing them up. He pulls your body roughly to the end of the table, pain flooding your limbs at the sudden movement. Your hands are still secured above you, pants torn from your body. He stands between your legs, staring at your naked core.

Pulling out a chair, his fingers find your core. He spreads your labia, coming close to eye your cunt and push the hood of your clit back. Having him touch your cunt makes you want to gag. The man who did this to you, touching your most sacred parts sends rage throughout you. Yet the way his fingers delicately dance across your clit make your cunt throb.

“Who’d think you’d get so wet in a situation like this,” he questions, holding the slick up for you to see. You stare back at it in disgust, your body betraying you. His fingers push into your warm heat, your back arching in tune with his touch. The pain from your injury fuses with pleasure as he curls his fingers inside of your fluttering hole. With each movement he makes, you feel the pressure slowly building in your stomach.

Without the luxury of movement all of your focus turns inward on your body and the way he is taking his time to slowly coax an orgasm from you. The leather of his gloves is covered in your arousal, plunging in and out of your core languidly. Each motion sends a jolt of revulsion and arousal to your foggy mind.

“You’re such a disgusting little whore. Getting me dirty like this,” he breathes between clenched teeth, his speed picking up as irritation takes over his features.

“I’m gonna cu-” the pressure peaks, but before you can release, his fingers tear from your abused hole, leaving it quivering.

“I didn’t keep you alive so that could you cum,” he sneers, staring at his coated fingers, looking repulsed by the fluid covering them. “You’re here for me to enjoy,” he pulls the dirtied glove from his hand, discarding them both across the room.

He leaves your side, the sound of a drawer slamming open startles you. He appears between your legs, with a new pair, unzipping his pants. He palms his cock a few times before sliding a condom over it.

“I have waited so long for this,” he groans, digging his fingers into your hips, plunging into your pulsing cunt. A cry leaves your mouth at the sudden intrusion. He lets out a soft grunt, feeling your cunt fight against him. He continues to push into you, your walls milking him as they try and accommodate space.

“Fuck you’re tight,” he pulls out of you slowly, easing back in inch by inch. The stretch is painful at first but soon blends into pleasure. Fingers spread apart your labia, pressing at your swollen clit, prodding against it with each rut of his hips.

Your hands tug at the restraints above your head, an ache gushing through you. You didn’t even know who the man violating your cunt was, yet you let him continue to defile you. Whines tumblr past your lips as he fills you.

“All of your team is dead and you can’t do anything but grip my cock and moan like a slut?” The words falling from his mouth bring tears to your eyes. Why were you enjoying this so much? Why does your body want more? Why do his words send a wave of arousal shuddering through your body. He’s taken so much from you, yet all you can do is let out pathetic sounds, pleading him to continue as your tongue lolls out.

“It’s like your pussy was made for me,” the sounds of slapping skin and the lewd squelching of your cunt echo through the room. Your mind goes blank, your body made to take all of what he is giving you.

There’s nothing for you to do but lie still while he milks orgasm after orgasm from you. Each time your body undulates, you feel pain in tandem, soaking into the hollow of your belly. The first orgasm takes everything from you, body limp and tender. Yet you still utter the words, begging him to keep using you, to keep fucking into your swollen pussy. Each orgasm sends a shake through your body, convulsions of agnozing pressure and relief.

The overstimulation has sobs wracking through your spent body. You can’t take anymore, but you crave more. All you can do is focus on your breathing. You feel his pace falter, fingers digging into your hips.

“I can’t-” A spark of electricity crashes through you when he pushes against your clit.

A cry leaves you as he sends you over the edge a final time, bottoming out inside of you. You can feel the warmth of his release fill up the condom, his cock twitching against your walls. Your body shakes against him while your mind buzzes. The faint sound of a zipper being pulled, coaxed you out of the daze.

“When you’re able to move again, you’re free to go.” You fight to keep your eyes open, gaze following him to the other side of the room where he discards his gloves.

“The next time you need something. Feel free to come to the front. There are... easier ways to get the things you want,” he pauses, grabbing a clean pair of gloves before walking to the door. Your eyes are droopy, his figure swimming, mind desperately trying to hang onto his words.

“But while you are here. You’ll call me Kai.”

—

masterlist

#server collab #overhaul x reader smut #kai chisaki x reader smut #bnha smut #mha smut #apocolypse au #overhaul smut #tw gore #tw: mindbreak #tw death #tw dubcon #tw injury #tw overstim #tw blood

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aceofshitposts · 3 years

Text

Happy Valentines Day everyone!!! This wasnt actually what I initially planned and it technically... isn’t v-day themed but it DOES feature idiots in love so that’s good enough, right? No beta we die like robins okay hope you enjoy! (will probably throw this up on ao3 tomorrow too)

ALSO a reminder that you can totally send me prompts for little drabbles/ficlets!! a sentence or dialogue or just an au you think might be cool (i adore aus) or if you just wanna say hi!

Jason's not stupid. It's just that. Things can sneak up on you sometimes, okay? They all have that habit of getting lost in the details or not looking for what isn’t expected. And boy, is this not expected.

"Please," Tim is imploring in the same tone a child asks their parent for a candy bar at the grocery store checkout, "Bruce isn't even going to be there so you don't have to worry about him."

That's. Really not the problem. The problem is Jason has no idea why Tim is asking him, of all people. Not that he doesn't like hanging out with Tim, as a matter of fact he probably likes it too much. Seeking Tim out had become a bad habit, if he’s honest, that has escalated from working on cases together to eating meals after patrol and even occasionally meeting up during the day to whisk Tim away from the office for a proper lunch.

They're friends, right? But that doesn't explain why Tim is inviting him to an important social gathering and not, say, one of the Titans if he needs a second that badly. Hell, Dick or Stephanie are better choices than Jason is. Asking Jason is. Is. It’s-

It feels a little like Tim’s asking him on a date. Which is absurd for all kinds of reasons, least of which is that Tim doesn’t like Jason like that.

"Why are you asking me?"

Jason winces. That sounded harsh even to him and the way Tim’s expression goes from distinctly hurt to completely closed off has Jason cringing even more.

“Okay,” Tim says, turning towards the open window.

“Okay?” Jason repeats, already forgetting that Tim hasn’t answered his question.

“Mhmm, don’t worry about it,” he says in a tone that suggests Jason should absolutely worry about it.

With that Tim slips out the window and into the early Gotham morning, leaving Jason with an extra breakfast burrito that they’d never even got around to eating before Tim had… whatever the hell that had been. Jason stares at the open window for a moment more, the wind blowing a napkin into his face, and decides he’ll deal with it after sleeping.

“What the hell did you do??”

If the sound of Jason’s bedroom door violently hitting the wall didn’t wake Jason up then Stephanie’s indigent yelling would have done the job just fine.

“What the hell do you want?” Jason asks, then shoves a pillow over his head in the vain hopes she will go away.

“Get up!”

The covers are pulled from his body which wouldn’t be so bad if this didn’t also give Stephanie better access to punch him squarely in the stomach. Jason snarls, leaping out of bed to tackle Stephanie to the floor. They grapple around on the floor for a while, Stephanie succeeding in nailing Jason in the throat with an elbow and pinning him to the floor.

“What,” she says pointedly, “did you do to Tim??”

Jason wheezes, only half due to the pressure still on his throat. Stephanie stares down at him furiously.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Jason says hoarsely.

Stephanie’s eyes narrow.

“Well, you better figure it out because he showed up at my apartment and has spent the entire morning moping under my blankets and obsessively redesigning Redbird on his tablet.”

Stephanie gets up in one smooth motion then offers a hand to help pull Jason up from the floor. Jason rubs at his sore throat giving Stephanie an incredulous look.

“I dunno what his problem is; he asked me to some fancy dinner and I just asked why he wasn’t asking you or whatever-”

“You what?”

“What! What did I do?”

“What did you do??” Stephanie shrieks in lieu of answering the question. “You have to be joking.”

When Jason just stares at her for a good minute Stephanie’s expression breaks and she starts laughing.

“Oh my god, please tell me you got dosed with something from Ivy or took a blow to the head recently,” she wheezes through her laughter. “Oh, noo, this is too stupid.”

“If you’ve figured out whatever is going on, could you clue me in?” Jason implores which only makes Stephanie laugh harder.

“Nope!” she says, popping the P, “this is too fucking funny. You’re on your own, bro.”

Before Stephanie leaves she makes sure to steal some of Jason’s leftovers and laugh at him some more, giving a two fingered salute as she leaves through the same window Tim had earlier that morning.

Over the course of the day Jason tries to busy himself cleaning his weapons and kitchen but he just end up stewing in the echoes of Stephanie’s laughter. He’s slumped on the couch rereading the same paragraph of a random paperback he’d grabbed when around four in the afternoon he receives a text from Cass that’s just a smiley face. It’s the only warning he gets before Tim comes stumbling through his window, laptop tucked under his arm.

“Okay, so, I’m still mad at you,” Tim starts, which is great, “but I want you to watch this.”

He sets his laptop down on Jason’s coffee table and maybe Jason can finally find out what this is all about.

On Tim’s laptop screen he opens what looks like a power-point presentation, and isn’t that just incredibly Tim, with the title: “Reasons We Make A Good Couple and Shouldn’t Break Up”.

Wait-

Back up.

“Break up??” Jason asks incredulously.

Tim’s head whips around to look at Jason, the slide on the screen changing to a picture of the two of them in uniform at the local 24 hour diner, probably taken by the waitress and posted on some social media platform, Tim reaching across the table to snag a piece of Jason’s bacon. It’s got several heart emojis all over it.

“You- yes? Isn’t that?” Tim sputters suddenly turning a bright shade of red.

“To break up don’t we have to date first?” Jason asks in a rush before his brain has really caught up with the situation.

Tim gets impossibly more red, muttering, “oh my fucking god,” while slamming the laptop shut. He runs a hand through his hair, looking as nervous and off kilter as Jason currently feels.

“I’m. I’m so sorry, Jay, I thought-” Tim starts rambling, words flowing together into an incoherent string while Jason’s brain tries desperately to parse what’s happening.

Like a lightbulb finally turning on in the middle of the night, Jason understands.

“Tim. Are we dating?”

Tim stops, jaw audibly snapping shut. He looks at Jason for all of two seconds before his gaze darts away miserably, looking at the floor.

“Yes?” he ventures, sounding unsure. “I just. I assumed you wanted to take it slow.”

Jason can’t help the bark of laughter that escapes his throat.

“Do I look like I do anything slow, Babybird?”

Tim growls in frustration, throwing his hands in the air and then pointing an accusing finger at Jason.

“We go out all the time! I hang out in your apartment! But whenever I’d try to initiate something more, you’d back off! I was trying to be considerate!”

Oh holy shit. Stephanie is right, this is stupid. Jason had thought he’d been projecting his own desires onto Tim, that there was no way Tim would want to be close to him like that. Even after all this time, Tim still finds ways to surprise Jason.

“Well, this explains why Stephanie punched and then started laughing at me this morning,” Jason laughs while draping an arm over his eyes. They really were Batman’s kids if their complete inability to communicate like normal people was anything to go by.

“God, Jason, I am so sorry,” Tim says, dropping down beside Jason on the couch with an oof. “I never should have assumed anything.”

“Hey, Babybird?” Jason shuffles over so he can throw his arm over Tim’s shoulders.

Tim startles, looking at Jason with wide blue eyes.

“Shut up and let me kiss you.”

Yeah, okay, maybe sometimes Jason is stupid. But he can at least find solace in the knowledge that sometimes Tim is also. Besides that, Jason tells himself, what really matters is that they got their shit together in the end. Even if that realization is undoubtedly going to come with a large amount of their family all pointing and laughing at them for being idiots.

“So,” Tim ventures after they’ve spent half an hour making out on Jason’s couch, “does this mean you’ll come with me to the dinner?”

Jason muffles a laugh against Tim’s collarbone and says, “yeah, sure I’ll come.”

“Okay, cool, cool. We’ve got to be there in an hour then.”

#jaytim #jaytim fanfiction #timjay #jason todd #tim drake #astrix writes #they're both stupid but they're my stupid boys #once again featuring some mild pining from Jason #i meant to post this like hours ago but i kept getting distracted by like everything #hope everyone had a cool valentines day regardless of relationship status #im gonna watch shrek the musical with my best friend now

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girlmeetsliv3 · 4 years

Text

Lilies of the Valley V

A/B/O!BTS x Reader

Flowers can have different meanings depending on the flower shape, color, and method in which they are presented. Lilies are my favorite for such a simple flower can have so many distinct meanings.

"White is usually associated with purity and heaven. Fresh and crisp, white lilies also represent purity and modesty"

Release Date: 06/01/20 @ 8:40 pm

previous ~ next

YN felt she was floating, her mind was floating, in and out of consciousness as she fought to gain control over herself but couldn't. She parted her lips to speak, only wails and moans came out instead of words. YN tried again - harder this time - but the same thing happened. She called out for someone, anyone, to hear her but her voice was beginning to fail her. Her body was shaking. No, not her body. Her bones were shaking. YN felt cold, incredibly cold, she tried to cover herself with the comforter but that only made her more uncomfortable. She thrashed and turned trying to get the blanket off, but it wouldn't budge. That only made her cry more. Eventually, she was so exhausted, she fell asleep.

“Shh. It’s okay. We’re here.”

"Help me lift her, so we can change the sheets."

“She needs a bath too.”

No! No bath. Don’t move me. YN tried to talk to them, whoever they were, but they wouldn't listen. Her ramblings were incoherent at best, but in her mind, they made perfect sense. YN cried and complained, she was in pain, everything hurt and they were only making it worse. "Shh. Don't worry it'll be over soon." Something brushed against her cheek and for the briefest of moments, she felt calm but then the pain and discomfort only worsened. The fever was wrecking through her body and there was little anyone could do to stop it. "Hurry up!" It was too loud, it hurt her ears. When she felt the cool of the bathwater, she lost consciousness again.

There was a crash, a loud one, and a cacophony of yells. Someone was getting closer to her, she could feel it but as much as she wanted to open her eyes they wouldn’t. Her nose was beginning to itch, their scent was too strong. It hurt. YN moaned again and tried to move away, but whoever it was had her locked in their grip. That only made things worse. Cramps began to pass all over her body causing the omega to spasm uncontrollably. They didn’t notice, too busy trying to pry the alpha off her to notice the pain she was in. Only once they had him under control did they notice the fever had returned and she was in a worse state than before.

“Get him out of here!”

“All of you leave! Now!”

The warmth was gone and the room was cool again. Something cold yet soft was trailed throughout her whole body. “Don’t worry. I’m here. I’ll make it better.”

When YN awoke it was to the sweet scent of raspberries and sugar. She leaned into the scent, wanting to drink more and more of it in. Only when she heard soft giggles and a sigh, did YN finally pry her eyes open. It stung at first all the clarity in the room, but after a couple of seconds, she became adjusted to it. YN felt depleted in every sense of the word but didn't yet know why. Her body ached, the way it might after a strenuous workout and her mind felt numb. It was when her outstretched arms touched skin that YN turned to the side, surprised to see Rosé of all people in her room.

“Ro!” YN jumped up and embraced her friend. Having felt like it’d been years since they had last seen each other.

Rosé hugged her back, but her grip wasn’t as tight and her eyes were filled with concern. “I’m so glad you’re okay YN. You had everyone so worried.”

YN was taken aback, “What do you mean?” YN pulled away and looked into Rosé’s face trying to decipher what she meant.

Rosé herself looked only more puzzled by YN’s words. “YN,” she spoke carefully as if explaining to a child, “You were in heat.”

“That’s ridiculous my heat isn’t for a couple more days. I’ve been taking the suppressants.”

"YN, you were in heat. It's been almost a week and it was only this morning that you broke the fever." That didn't make any sense. How had it been a week? The last thing YN knew had been taking her suppressants and heading to bed. Had they not worked? But they'd worked fine for years. Even if it was a faulty batch, her heat wasn't supposed to occur so suddenly. YN didn't know what to say.

“I’ve never heard of heats lasting that long or being that intense. They're only supposed to last a day or two max. Is that normal for you?” Rosé was wracking her head trying to find an explanation all the while YN sat silent. If I had my heat then that means… “And your mates were so worried. They kept asking me if this was a normal thing, but I didn’t know how to answer. Everyone was so scared YN.” That caught her attention, YN vaguely recalled people around her but she assumed that was a dream. “Did you take care of me, Ro?” The girl shook her head, “I was only allowed to see you today once they were sure your heat was over.”

“What? Why?!” YN’s anxiety was beginning to rise.

"It's normal. Mates get protective during heats, plus it wouldn't have been safe for another omega to be around. Could've triggered my heat and then we'd be screwed." This had quelled her fears, if only momentarily, casting a glance around the room YN noticed it was a wreck. Her bathroom door was thrown open and YN could see wet spots on the carpet and floor. Not to mention the basket was overbrimming with dirty clothes and sheets. Her memory of the events was fuzzy, it felt like she had just woken up from a long sleep. "Why are the doors gone?"

Rosé whipped her head to see where YN was staring, then she smiled apologetically. "Um, apparently you triggered your alphas ruts. They're locked away in the mansion riding it out." So it had been the others who had taken care of her, which put her more at ease. "Where are they?" YN couldn't see anyone standing outside and her nose felt plugged, not allowing her to sense them. "They said they were going to get cleaned up. I'm sure they'll be back soon. They can't stand to be away from you for too long." YN was thankful that there were betas in the group. Though she couldn't see a pack of all alpha's getting along.

“I’m sorry Ro. Sorry for scaring you.”

"You don't have to apologize to me. I know how it is. I would talk to them about it though so that all of you can be prepared next time." Right, next time.

“Don’t worry. This won’t happen again. I probably just got a bad batch.” YN was certain this wouldn’t happen again. She wouldn’t allow it to.

"Yeah, but haven't you had them for a while. It's strange to get a reaction now. How'd your last heat go?" YN didn't know how to answer that question. Well, she did, but she knew the second Rosé found out the truth it would all be over. "What do you mean?" YN feigned innocence. Rosé tilted her head in confusion, "You know...how long was your last heat? I'm certain it wasn't this long. I don't remember you taking time off." Fuck. The longer she stayed quiet the more concerned Rosé became. “If this keeps happening you have to go see a doctor. It isn’t normal and can be a sign that something is up.”

YN waved her off, “I’m sure everything is fine. My last heat only lasted three days.”

“Okay, but when was your last heat?” Rosé had finally landed on the jackpot question. YN’s reluctance to answer only caused her friend to press her more. “I mean I don’t recall you ever getting like this.”

YN sighed, running a hand through her hair only to find it was greasy and long overdue for a wash. “I haven’t had a heat since I presented Rose.” Her friend remained frozen in shock until YN’s words finally dawned on her. “Are you insane?! Why haven’t you said anything?! That isn’t normal YN! Something is obviously very wrong.”

“I know it isn’t normal Rosé, but nothing is wrong. I’ve just been using the suppressants.”

“But they aren’t meant to be used like that. They’re only supposed to control side effects, not fully take away your heat. No wonder you were in heat for so long. Do you realize how reckless you’ve been?! You could’ve died!”

YN rolled her eyes, "You're being ridiculous Ro. I wouldn't have died." Rosé had always been an overthinker and someone of frail health so it made sense to YN that she would react like this. This is partly the reason YN had refrained from telling her friend, the other reason is it was illegal.

“Your mates told me you reached 41 degrees.” Oh. "Your body shut down and went into survival mode. They were afraid to take you to the hospital because they knew it might worsen your heat." YN had heard of intense heats causing fevers and cramps, but never to that extent. Perhaps, she had gone a bit overboard with the suppressants and her body needed a release.

"I'm sorry Ro. I really am. You're right I was being stupid, but I was scared. I didn't know how to deal with heats and the first time I experienced one I -" She had been about to tell Rosé everything. Confess the truth, but that would only shatter Rosé's perception of YN. Rosé would accuse her of lying and want to end their friendship, she couldn't risk her reputation by being associated with someone like YN. "- I was scared. That's why I did it."

“Oh YN.” Rosé pulled her into a tight hug and YN almost wept at the thought of losing her best friend. The person she truly had left. “It’s okay. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. Just promise you won’t do it again.” YN nodded, burying her head into Rosé’s neck unsure of whether she was being honest or not. She hoped she was.

“I’m happy to see you’re feeling better.” True to Rosé’s words the men had returned in ten minutes exactly. Yoongi, Jimin, and Taehyung looked clean and brand new but YN noticed the weary expressions on their faces and the bags under their eyes. Yoongi smiled and went to sit on her bed, the others entered slowly too. Their movements seemed calculated as if they were careful not to scare her.

“I am, thank you. I’m sorry about the trouble I’ve caused.” She did feel bad and can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.

“It’s no problem. You’re our mate, it’s our responsibility to care for you.” Jimin stated, eyes warm as he leaned against the wall nearest where the doors used to be.

Rosé had remained quiet and by your side, but sensing something in the air she excused herself. “I’ll be going now. Sorry for any trouble I caused.” Yoongi shook his head, “You were nothing but help.” Leaning down, she pressed a kiss against your cheek and said goodbye. “Get well soon.” She waved, before leaving for good.

Once YN was sure she was gone, she turned her attention back towards the men. "Thank you for letting her come. I know it must've been difficult." Taehyung rolled his eyes, "Please if we hadn't she probably would've called protective services on us." Despite his words, his tone was light not meant to be taken seriously. YN simply nodded, unsure of what to say or where the conversation would go. It was Jimin who took the initiative, "You really scared us. Are your heats normally like that?" YN shook her head, "No. I don't know what happened this time. I think I had a faulty batch or something." It still didn't make sense to her.

"You should stop taking those things. They aren't good in the long term, plus we can always use alternatives." YN didn't know how she felt about that but figured it was better to go along with whatever they said then to start a fight. "Plus," Taehyung added, "You should let us know when your preheat rolls around. That way we can plan." At this YN did oppose, “Namjoon knew though. I thought he would tell you all.” Jimin sighed, “You can’t trust alphas with that kind of information. I’m sure he did mean to tell us, but it happened so suddenly.”

YN suddenly wondered exactly where all the alphas were and what rolled they played during their heat. "Where exactly are the others?" The betas exchanged a look. "They're in Namjoon's room. It's been so long since we all experienced a heat, so it kind of triggered their ruts." Yoongi explained, looking a bit frazzled with everything. "And the door?" They all visibly tensed, Taehyung stood up from the wall to walk towards the opposite side of the bed. "That was them. Lost a bit of control when you began to call out for us, but thankfully Yoongi managed to make them snap out of it long enough to get them out." Taehyung then laid down on the bed, causing YN to have to move for there to be enough space for the two of them.

"Don't worry. We'll install new doors by tonight." Yoongi said as he looked disapprovingly at Taehyung.

YN took a deep breath, steadying herself, and trying to prepare for what she was about to ask. "How did you take care of me?"

Her question disoriented the betas. "What do you mean?" Jimin asked, coming to rest on the bed near YN's legs. "We changed your sheets, clothes, and bathed you sometimes. We also tried fever medicine, but you puked that up." The men had taken care of her, but that wasn't what she had meant. "No, I know but I mean did you take care of me?"

The men’s expressions morphed suddenly, their faces becoming stoic. YN didn’t know whether they were upset or not. “No. We didn’t.” Yoongi spoke through clenched teeth. “You were barely conscious.” It hadn’t been what she expected. Perhaps that is why it had lasted so long, they had refrained from aiding her.

“Oh. I just thought -”

“Frankly, I don’t appreciate the accusation.” Taehyung’s voice had dropped at least two octaves lower. Even Jimin seemed to be gripping the bedding tightly.

YN shook her head, raising her hands up. “That wasn’t what I meant. I was simply asking, but thank you. For respecting me.” It was a lot more than others would do in that situation. Especially with a partial bond established.

"YN," Jimin called her name, forcing her to look at him. "You are our mate. Don't forget it and don't ever suggest something like that again."

It seems they were trying to keep their hormones under control, for her sake, but YN could feel the anger radiating off them even in her weakened state. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Not knowing what else to do, YN reached out to touch Jimin and Taehyung’s hands while smiling at Yoongi. After a while, the tension dissipated and all of them were smiling. Each for a different reason, however. YN because she had managed to deescalate a potentially dangerous situation and the men because for the first time since knowing each other YN hadn’t denied being their mate.

New doors had been installed, though these featured a combination lock the other ones didn't. 'For privacy' YN had been told and though she suspected that was not the only reason, she was at least thankful for it. She was also grateful that her tattoo wasn't ruined because of her heat as that would result in a whole other fiasco. The others had most likely noticed it - difficult to miss it was but hadn't seemed to care. Overall, YN was feeling a lot better and though Yoongi had insisted she rest, YN found that difficult to do. She had showered and applied lotion onto her tattoo before dressing and deciding to explore the grounds. Even though YN longed to go out with everyone else locked in the house, she decided that might not be the best idea.

As beautiful as the day was it had a draft which had her skipping over the swimming pool. The patio area was pleasant but seemed typical as did the outdoor kitchen. YN walked to where both side entrances were, eyeing the cameras observing her, but found them to be locked. In the end, YN settled on dragging out the large rug in the middle of her room outside to lay near the lilies. The garden was beautiful, reminding her of a simpler time. She watched as the gentle breeze caused the flowers to sway from side to side. With the sun partly hidden behind clouds, YN was warm but not uncomfortably so. The sound of nature around her was like a sweet lullaby which caused her eyelids to hang heavy after a while.

This is so nice. Once she closed her eyes, her other senses heightened causing her nose to pick up on the soft smell of cotton. It smelled like a mix of eucalyptus and cotton, fresh and relaxing. "Mm. Smells nice." A soft chuckle reached her ears, YN opened her eyes to see Seokjin standing a few feet away from her. Though her primary reaction was to cower away, once she noticed his clean attire and the slouch in his usually straight spine YN quelled her fears away. "Sorry," Seokjin said softly. "I didn't mean to scare you." YN shook her head, she knew what she should do next: stand up, excuse herself, and walk away. But she was so comfortable on the grass and despite what she'd been warned the alpha in front of her didn't seem like he was in a rut. Didn't smell like it either. "I'm glad you're feeling better. We were all worried." Seokjin seemed awkward standing around, but YN didn't make a move to invite him nor did she dismiss him entirely.

"Thank you for taking care of me." The smile on her face was genuine even if her words weren't the entire truth. Seokjin nodded but refrained from saying anything else. After a couple of tense seconds where both of them stared at each other expectantly, YN relented. Gesturing over to the carpet before shifting over. Seokjin took the same position as her, laying down staring up at the sky. "You're peaceful when you sleep." He commented, catching YN off guard.

“As opposed to?” She joked trying to lighten the mood.

“You were restless last week. Barely slept and even then when you did sleep, we were afraid you weren’t going to wake up again.” He spoke earnestly, tone hushed yet somber.

"Oh," YN didn't know it had been that bad. She trusted Rosé but knew the omega was a worrier. Seeing the frown nestled between her brows, Seokjin reached over and smoothed the area. YN's eyes widening at his actions. "Don't worry. It wasn't that bad, we just were unprepared." Instead of removing his hand, the alpha trailed towards her cheek, cupping it gently. YN angeled her body so that she was facing him better, "The others told me about what happened. Did I really trigger your rut?" YN knew an alpha's ruts could be just as intense and painful as omegas. YN would never purposely want to inflict that loss of control on someone. No matter who they were.

Seokjin smiled gently, “Don’t worry. It was only really Namjoon and Hoseok who you triggered. Jungkook and I already had our ruts but we decided to help the others, plus we didn’t want to risk it.” YN had assumed that the younger alpha in his lust-filled rage had been the one to tear down the door, or they all did. Never could she imagine Jungkook aiding the betas. “Then what happened to the door?”

“Ah,” Seokjin laughed a bit, rubbing the back of his neck. “A fight broke out between us about whether we should take you to a hospital or not. Some of us got a bit territorial, things escalated and well… combine that with our ruts and we felt you weren’t safe so we wanted to take you into the house.”

“To nest?”

"Kinda. Jimin argued that you would feel uncomfortable if you woke up and were in a bed with all of us, so a fight broke out." A fight between mates? That YN had never heard of. She expressed said thoughts to Seokjin who only shrugged in response, "We're only human. Most of the time we agree on how to care for our mates, but each of us has different coping mechanisms and we were unprepared."

YN didn't know why but she felt at ease around Seokjin, maybe because the alpha had never not been respectable and aware of her boundaries. Perhaps because he seemed like the only one who didn't place the pack bond above all or even acted like the stereotypical alpha. She felt they could be friends. That was a lot more than she felt for most of the residents in the house. Still, as the day went on and the sun began to set, the two of them remained on the carpet. Basking in the beauty of the day and each other's presence, though none would admit to it. It wasn't until the last sliver of sunlight remained, that their eyes met once more and YN found herself inkling to know him better. Most surprisingly of all, YN wanted to kiss him.

641 notes · View notes

btsmakesmehappy · 4 years

Text

Palate Cleanser | 5

Genre: Agent au, friends with benefit (sort of), Stranger to lover, Angst, Fluff

Pairing: Agent!Taehyung x Baker!reader

Word Count: 6,7k

Rating: 18+ (M)

Warning: Guns. Violence. Minor characters died. Possessive Tae. Cursing.

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 completed

Series Masterlist: The Company

Summary: Taehyung needs something to take his mind off his broken heart. His best friend, Jimin, suggests that he should meet another woman and the first woman he met was you. Would you help him even though you have your own problem, that you hate men?

A/N: To my beloved beta readers: @arizonapoppy who gave me the most encouragement and to @hesperantha who literally made me want to join your screaming reading lmao. thankyou so much!!

“Why are you here again?” you asked, trying to sound mad. You put your hands on your hips as Taehyung walked through your door to the couch, throwing down his jacket and other belongings on his way.

Taehyung chuckled as he plopped himself on the couch. “You know, muffin, you’re thinking way too much. I know that deep down you are happy that I am here.”

You scoffed, walking to the couch and sitting beside him. “I’m not!”

He then took the remote from the table and turned on the TV, scrolling casually through Netflix. “Sure.”

You pouted and grabbed his arm to attract his attention. “I’m not!”

Taehyung just smiled. He leaned in and kissed the tip of your nose softly, catching you off guard. “You can say whatever you want, muffin. But you can’t lie to your heart. ”

You have been crying since Wendy dragged you to the Hall’s storage room. The room is in the back of the hall, almost outside. It’s weird for you that such an expensive hall has a room like this. The place is deserted and you feel that no one will ever hear your voice. You even take a peek at the broken window beside you, there’s no one out there to save you.

Taehyung was right after all.

That damn Park Chanyeol is fucking dangerous.

At the thought of Taehyung, you cry even harder. You are too young to die. You have just met a man who might be the love of your life and you have never told him that you love him. You miss Taehyung. You want to tell him that you love him. No, love may be too much. You want to be with Taehyung at any rate.

“For the love of God, stop crying already!” Wendy yells at you, yanking your hair.

How can you stop crying? You’re tied in a chair with a gun pointed to your head. If this isn’t the worst nightmare you’ve ever had, it is getting worse. Your stomach hurts. You try to control yourself, to stop the tears falling from your eyes. But they are just pouring like a waterfall.

“Wha-What will you do to me?” you ask cautiously.

“Oh, honey. Don’t ask something you don’t want to know,” she chuckles.

Suddenly, the door opens and a man barges in. He is in a suit too, and looks like another guest at this party. He holds a paper in his hand tightly. His face looks mad for some reason and he stops when he sees you. “Y/N?”

You look at him carefully. “Baekho?” You know this man. You went to college with him. Or close to it -- your college building is kind of merged with your culinary school so you saw him often. Hell, he even asked you out back then. Truth be told, you didn’t like him. He was snobby and when you rejected him, he hated it. He spread rumors about you in the building, which you didn’t care for. To you, he was just a rich annoying guy who had a bunch of men lurking behind him. And you remember one of the men -- it was Chanyeol.

His eyes widen when he looks at your state. “What? What is this?”

The door closes abruptly, making you jolt in surprise. “Nice reunion, right guys?” Chanyeol says happily. He walks closer to you. Your body is shaking. He touches your cheeks softly, which makes you wince in disgust. “I think it is more perfect than what I was planning before, with Y/N watching.”

Baekho glares at him. “What the fuck? Did you send this?” He asks as he holds the paper in the air. You can’t see what’s on the paper, but it looks like it might be a photo.

Chanyeol chuckles. “Of course I did! Who else knows about your bad past except me?”

Baekho grits his teeth. “What do you want? Do you want to share that photo with the public? Is that what you want?” He scoffs. “You really think that you can stop me from joining politics?”

Chanyeol laughs maniacally and walks to him. “I don’t fucking care about your career.” He pulls his gun and aims it at Baekho. “I just want you to die.”

Your eyes widen in shock. “What the hell, Chanyeol? Are you crazy? Why do you want to kill your friend?”

Wendy slaps you across the face with her gun. “Shut the fuck up.” You can feel the tingling pain on your cheek and the bitterness of blood on the corner of your lips.

Chanyeol scoffs. “Friends? I have never thought of him as a friend.” His gun is still pointing to Baekho, who has already fallen on his knees. He’s hyperventilating and clutching his chest. “He just used me as a slave, back then.”

“What?” Your voice is weak. It doesn’t make any sense. Did he plan all of this just to take revenge on Baekho?

“You should be happy too, Y/N! He was the one who spread that groundless rumor about you! He even made your photoshopped naked photo.” He glares back to Baekho. “He is trash.”

This sudden fact makes you squint your eyes in confusion. “That doesn’t mean you can kill him!”

“It is too late.” Chanyeol smiles weakly. You hear a click from his gun.

You squeeze your eyes shut when you hear a shot, followed by the other shots. The smell of gunpowder fills the room, mixed with the smell of dust. It is nauseating. The pain in your stomach worsens, twisting it, nearly forcing you to throw the contents on the floor. You want to vomit everything; wipe away what you just saw.

With the sound of the door opened abruptly, the sound of firing guns doesn’t stop, it is even getting worse. You hear the cries of the people around you. You clutch your bound hands into fists; your nails digging into your palms in what you are sure will be permanent half moons, if you survive this.

You cast your head down. At this point, you can’t cry anymore. You want to run away, but you’re tied. You literally can’t do anything. You pray that it will end soon.

You are almost sure you are going to die tonight.

Maybe it is the fear, maybe it is nausea, or maybe it is the fact that you are losing your mind, your mind turns blank and subconsciously mutters incoherent words, or worse, sings nursery rhymes, trying to calm your nerves.

Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man

Bake me a cake as fast as you can

Pat it, and roll it, and mark it with a "B"

And put it in the oven for baby and me

Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker's man

Bake me a cake as fast as you can

Mix it, and stir it, and bake it just right

Good from the first 'til the very last bite

Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake baker's man

Bake me a cake as fast as you can

Make it with chocolate, and make it with cream

Make it the prettiest you've ever seen

Somehow the voices around you are quiet. But still, you are afraid to open your eyes, until you feel a soft pat on your shoulder. “Y/N? Are you okay?”

You slowly open your eyes, to find a familiar man in front of you. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Hoseok?”

Hoseok sighs in relief. “Thank God, I thought you’d gone crazy.” He laughs. “Wait, let me untie you.”

He does, and you rise from your chair, legs wobbly, and look around the room. Wendy, who was beside you, is held down to the ground by some man, there’s blood seeping from her back. Another agent forces Chanyeol to walk outside. His hands are tied behind him; Chanyeol doesn’t even glance at you. And Baekho...

You can’t see him clearly, as he is covered with a white cloth. The way his blood drips from his unconscious body, you know that he’s dead. A man died. A man killed another man in the same room as you are. You put your hand on your mouth, willing yourself not to vomit in this place.

Hoseok runs to your side and holds your arms gently. “Are you okay? Can you walk?” You nod weakly. Your mind is still processing all of these things.

Why is Hoseok here? Who is he? What the fuck is going on?

Another man walks over to you. His dark eyes show concern. “Y/N, right? Let me walk you outside. There's an ambulance waiting outside to check on you.” You nod again, having no will to argue or refuse. The man puts his hand on your back while the other hand holds your arm, guiding you outside. It’s already dark outside, crowded with police and also the other people who are just curious about what happened.

He then walks you to the ambulance and the paramedics quickly examine you. Luckily, there are no major injuries. You only have a little wound in the corner of your mouth and a graze on your shoulder from the firing incident. After the paramedic treats you, the man covers your shoulder with a blanket and hands you a cup of water. “Thank you,” you whisper.

The man smiles, his eyes turning into thin lines. “You’re welcome. Taehyung will be here soon.” He pats your shoulder.

At the sound of his name, your head perks up. “Taehyung?” You look at him in confusion. What is Taehyung doing here?

Just when you want to ask him about Taehyung, you see his familiar form run towards him. “Jimin! Where is Y/N?” he asks hurriedly.

Your eyes widen with the sudden arrival of Taehyung. His hair is messy, his forehead is wet with sweat, his breaths are uneven. He carries a rifle slung over his shoulder by a strap. His eyes fall on you and he sighs in relief. He drops his rifle to the ground and runs to you.

Without even thinking, you run to him too, dropping the glass and letting the blanket fall to the ground. The two of you meet in the middle. Taehyung pulls you into his embrace, kissing your face over and over. “Oh my God, muffin. Are you okay?” he asks with worry.

Hearing his voice and feeling the way he hugs you, you feel more alive than ever. You are relieved, you feel safe. And with that realization, your eyes flood with tears. “Tae... I’m sorry.” Your body shakes uncontrollably.

Taehyung feels his heart sinking to his feet. He hates it the most when you cry. “No, muffin. I’m the one who should be sorry. I should be the one to protect you. I am sorry.” He hugs you tighter, running his hand on your head, stroking lovingly to calm you down. “I am glad that you are okay.”

“There’s a dead man,” you sob, burying your face in his chest.

“Shh... I know, muffin.” He pulls away from you, taking your face in his hand. His heart drops when he sees the wound on your face. He grits his teeth; he is so going to kill Chanyeol. How dare he hurt you?

You search his face. “Tae?”

Taehyung realizes your confusion and shakes his head profusely to clear his mind. Right now, the most important thing is you, you are alive in front of him. He leans in and gives a chaste kiss on your lips, not wanting to hurt you more. He wipes the tears on your face and pulls you into his hug again. Chanyeol can wait.

What matters most now is you.

An awkward cough erupts behind you, making you and Taehyung pull away from each other. “Sorry to disturb you guys. Jin wants to talk to you,” the man named Jimin says as he hands the phone to Taehyung.

Taehyung walks you to the back of the ambulance to let you sit there. Jimin wraps you again with a blanket. Taehyung’s hand still holds your hand tightly, not wanting to let you go, even for just a bit. He puts the phone up to his ear with his free hand. “Yes, Jin-hyung?”

You look at Taehyung warily and divert your attention to the other man beside you, who is looking at you with twinkling eyes. He looks curious and happy at the same time. “Oh, right. I’m Jimin. Tae’s friend.”

“I’m Y/N. I am...” Your voice quietens. “I-I am also Tae’s friend.” You have never talked about your relationship with him. You know that maybe boyfriend is too much, but a friend?

Jimin smiles knowingly. Anyone who saw you and Taehyung would think the same as him. How you and Taehyung hugged each other for dear life, how you look at each other, how you hold each other’s hands tightly, it’s not just any friendship. Jimin is happy for his friend. Even before Hawaii, Taehyung has never been like this. You must be someone special for him to make him fall so deep like this.

“I don’t want to!” Taehyung snaps, making you and Jimin look at him curiously. “Y/N is not going to the HQ.”

You are perplexed at the sound of your name. After the fog of the shootout, your mind starts functioning again. You collect the puzzle pieces. Taehyung told you that he is an agent, and he used that big gun. He is an agent, and you just now realize it, that Taehyung has never lied to you even once.

You squeeze his hand to make him look at you. “Tae, I’m fine,” you say softly. “If that’s something I must do, I can do it.”

Taehyung grits his teeth in displeasure and sighs. “Fine. 30 minutes.”

Taehyung opened the trunk of Jungkook’s car, grabbing a rifle from the case. He touched the rifle softly, unsure of what to do. His fingers trembled. A memory from the war 5 years ago filled his head. He heard the sudden cry from a child in the flashback. He balled his hands into fists and closed his eyes.

Jimin walked silently behind him and patted his shoulder. “Are you okay? Can you do this?”

His war flashback turned into a dying girl covered in blood on the beach in Hawaii. His love, who almost died 2 years ago. Who he loved so dearly and yet never loved him back. A woman who will never be his.

And then he saw you, slowly walking into his life.

You with a pout on your face and a blush that formed on your cheeks when he flirted with you. You, with a smile plastered on your face when he came to your apartment and hid that smile quickly when he looked at you. You, with tears flowing like a waterfall every time you watched Disney movies.

You, who always accepted him with open arms.

He opened his eyes and turned to Jimin. “Chim, please keep her safe…” he begged as his hands gripped Jimin’s shoulder tightly.

Jimin smiled at him knowingly. “Of course I will, Tae.” He pulled Taehyung into a hug and stroked his back to reassure him. “I am so happy that you found someone.”

Taehyung gulped, trying to hold his tears. “I don’t want to lose her. She is everything to me now.”

“I know.” Jimin then pulled away from his best friend and gave him a smack on his back. “Now go save your woman!”

The ride to the Company’s HQ is quiet. Hoseok drives with his eyes on the road, sometimes peeking in the rearview mirror. Jimin sits beside him; he looks like he’s holding himself from talking to you and Taehyung.

And Taehyung?

He has been holding your hand since you first saw him a while ago. He soothes your hand softly to calm you down, and sometimes bring your hand to his lips. You can’t guess what’s inside his head, his dark eyes are unreadable.

You step out of the car when Hoseok stops in the driveway. Your feet stumble; Taehyung drags you through the security, silently showing his badge to the guards. You’ve never thought you would set foot in this building. The last time you went here, you only stayed in front of the building.

The people inside the building walk quickly, looking busy. You thought that you would see people in suits walking around with guns in their hands, but instead it looks like a usual office. They even have a private Starbucks in the lobby, next to a stall that you assume as a burger joint. You frown your eyebrows. Duh, Y/N! Do you think you’d find a donut shop there?

You walk to the elevator after a woman in the receptionist area gives you access with a card. Still, the elevator ride is quiet, only filled with the sound of Jimin tapping his feet impatiently beside you.

“Alright! I give up!” Jimin says to Hoseok. Jimin then hands a 10000 won bill to Hoseok. “I just can’t keep quiet like this. This is killing me!”

Hoseok slips the bill into his chest pocket. “Aha! I knew you would lose, Park Jimin!” His smile spreads to his face.

Jimin snorts. “Fine! I lost! I don’t care anymore!” He then shifts his gaze to you. “So how did you meet Tae?”

You blink your eyes several times, confused with the sudden question. Jimin’s face looks so happy, it almost intimidates you. “Wh-What?”

“You know what I meant!” Jimin says. “I knew a little already from Hoseok, but I still want to hear from your side of the story! Did Taehyung force you to meet him? Or you were the one who chased him?”

“Alright, Chim. Not a good time.” Taehyung interrupts as you arrive on the 7th floor. “And what do you think you are doing?” You step out of the elevator, following Taehyung.

Jimin whines as he follows both of you. “I’m just curious! I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“PARK JIMIN!” Taehyung yells, you can see his cheeks turn bright red. The tightness in your chest loosens; you were nervous before, but this unfamiliar banter somehow eases your nerves. Jimin and Hoseok genuinely care for Taehyung; they’re not just being complete dickheads. You giggle softly at Taehyung’s sudden shyness, which he realizes. “Please don’t join him to tease me.” He tugs your hand softly.

He tries to sound mad, but in fact, he is a little grateful to Jimin and Hoseok. They are trying to help you feel comfortable, and he is happy about that. But still, it is embarrassing for him.

Taehyung stops in front of a big grey door; he raises a hand to open the door, but stops midair. He then turns his face to you. “Are you sure about this?”

You gently squeeze his hand. “I’m okay, Tae. And besides, I am not doing anything wrong. I shouldn’t be afraid, right?” you ask, waiting for reassurance.

Taehyung bites his lips. “Well, it can be a little scary sometimes.”

You gulp. Maybe this is a bad idea? Taehyung didn’t want you to do it in the first place, shouldn’t you just follow him? But, you thought he would get into trouble if he keeps doing this. And you don’t want him to be.

Hoseok pats your shoulder. “Don’t worry, Y/N. I’m going inside too. It’s only an interview, don’t be intimidated by Jin-hyung.” He smiles and opens the door, letting you enter the room first.

You take a quick glance at Taehyung’s face when Hoseok closes the door. “Taehyung is not coming?”

Hoseok smiles comfortingly. “He is too emotional at this point, so, No.” He points you to a seat in front of him. “You want a drink? Coffee or tea?”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

Suddenly the door opens and a man with broad shoulders enters. “Hi! You must be Y/N. I’m Jin.” He takes a seat beside Hoseok, opening his laptop. “Let’s just do this as fast as possible, okay?”

The questioning starts. They ask you simple questions at first, like your name, age, occupation, and anything that identifies you. After that Hoseok starts asking about Chanyeol and your kidnapping.

“How would you describe your relationship with Park Chanyeol? How often did you meet each other?”

“I think we were friends? We went to the same school before, I helped him one time. We then met again after many years when he handed his magazine to me at my bakery. Then we went to dinner that night, had some conversations. A few days later, he came rushing to my shop handing me a proposal for this event. And before the event, he came to the store once. That’s it,” you explain.

“So, you had no other relationship with him?” Jin asks.

You shake your head. You then suddenly think about Baekho. “Although, I also know Baekho.”

Jin and Hoseok turn stiff. “You know Lee Baekho?”

You look at their reaction, silently regretting telling them. Did I say something wrong? “Yes. He went to the same school too. Not in culinary, but I saw him once or twice maybe?”

Jin moves his laptop aside, directly looking at you. “How do you describe your relationship with Lee Baekho then, Miss Y/N?”

You gulp, absolutely getting intimidated by him. “I just know him. He also asked me out in the past. But I rejected him.”

“And?” Jin pushes.

You fiddle with your shirt unconsciously. “He didn’t take it well. He kinda harassed me about it, and spread a rumor about me.”

“What kind of rumor?”

“I don’t know the specific reason because we were in different social circles. But someone said he edited my face onto nudes?”

“And you were mad about it?”

“But it’s not like I could do anything. He had too much power in the school, like that guy Chanyeol? He was one of his friends -- well, he said that he was a slave though.”

Jin nods. “Okay, let me rephrase this.” He then stands up and walks to you. “So, you were mad when he did that to you in the past, and you couldn't do anything to defend yourself.”

“Yeah?” You answer timidly, not sure what he is trying to say.

Jin looks down at you with suspicion. “Were you or were you not planning this with Chanyeol?” he snaps.

Your eyes widen. “What?” You almost yell. “No! Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. Revenge maybe?” He shrugs his hands.

“What?” Does this guy think you are complicit? “Look, I studied hard in my 2 years in school, I couldn’t bother to date any guy. I don’t fucking care what he did to me because it was just a rumor, it would die eventually. I don’t really care about what people said behind my back.”

“But still, you have a motive.”

“That’s just baseless!” you snap back. “I never met him even once after I graduated. And I’m doing great right now. Why would I throw away my life to just kill him?” Your eyes divert to Hoseok in front of you, who is also speechless.

Jin slaps the table hard, making you wince. “Then why are you suddenly approaching Taehyung? Or maybe you know that Taehyung is an agent and used him for your own gain? Making an alibi?”

You are perplexed and mad, and almost crying in frustration. It is just too much for you to comprehend. You can’t understand why this man suddenly put you in the corner. Whatever you said, he turned it back to you. You’re supposed to be a victim, but why did he treat you as a criminal?

Just before you answer anything, Taehyung barges into the room, looking mad. “That’s enough, Hyung.” He grabs your hand tightly, pulling you to the door.

“Kim Taehyung! You can’t just do this as you like. This is still an interrogation, and it’s far from over. She’s under suspicion!” Jin yells, grabbing Taehyung’s arm.

He jerks his hand away. “She’s a victim! Why are you being so hard on her?”

Jin snorts. “It’s just a common procedure. She might be lying.”

Taehyung looks at him with a stare that could freeze the Han River solid. “Not every woman is going to lie to you, Hyung” he whispers, making Jin wince. “I trust Y/N. And besides, I was the one who chased after her.”

“Maybe she made you think like that,” Jin says, folding his arms across his chest.

Hoseok, sensing the sour situation, stood up. “Alright-alright. Enough with this. Tae, we have finished the interrogation for now, so you can take Y/N home.” Without waiting a second, Taehyung grabs your hand, leading you quickly outside.

Back in the room, Hoseok turns to face Jin. “And you. That’s too far, Hyung. You barely had evidence, and yet you pushed her. It’s just not right.”

Jin clenches his fists and sighs. He then takes his laptop and stomps away, not wanting to say anything.

Hoseok is left alone in the interrogation room, looking around the bare walls of the empty room. He sighs. What the fuck just happened? He walks out of the room. Maybe Jin was right, you were suspicious, you even have a motive. But that doesn’t mean that you want to kill Baekho.

Hoseok doesn’t need any more quarrels in his team. The only thing they should think about is whether Baekhyun is involved in this and why Jiseok suddenly tipped them that someone targeted Baekho.

Jin is losing his mind, he needs to move on too. He chuckles. Why do people around him always have a problem?

You walk in the middle of the night back to your apartment, draped in Taehyung’s jacket. You are not feeling the cold as the warmth and the scent from his jacket envelop you, calming you down. But even in the chilly wind, his hands are still the warmest things. He holds your hand in his, a steady reassurance of his presence.

As Taehyung opens your apartment door with his key, you suddenly remember that you have no stuff with you. You dropped your phone in the hall and your purse was still in the rental car. You turn to him. “Ehm. I think I need to go back to the hall. My purse is in the car,” you say cautiously.

He throws the key to the kitchen table and walks to the couch. “We will get your purse tomorrow. Just rest for tonight.”

“But, I also need to return the car before midnight. They’ll charge me more if I don’t,” you say as you follow close behind him. Your face bumps his back when he suddenly stops.

He turns to face you, you can see his eyes burn with fury, making you step backward. “Are you seriously thinking about that stupid rental car right now? You almost fucking died!”

“I know, but I am really fine! See?” You show him your hands and feet, waving them vigorously between you.

“That’s because I shot a fucking woman beside you,” he hisses. “Why are you so stubborn?”

You wince, completely aghast by his sudden rampage. “I am not. You see...”

“Listen to me!” he yells and runs his fingers through his hair in exasperation.

There is an awkward silence in your apartment. All you hear is the hum as the refrigerator switches on. You don’t understand what he is thinking, why he is behaving like this. You do know that he is worried about you, but still, you can’t comprehend why he does this to this extent. Even before, he was being overprotective of you, and now after this incident, it’s tripled.

He sighs and says again in a much softer tone. “Please listen to me, muffin.”

“Why?”

He furrows his eyebrows. “What?”

Your tears form on the edges of your eyes, threatening to fall. “Why are you like this?” you ask in a whisper.

Taehyung's heart sinks at seeing your tears. “Muffin...” He reaches out his hand to wipe your tears, but you brush his hand away.

“Just answer me...” You know he’s holding something back. There’s a piece of him that he isn’t sharing with you, and you just wish he would be honest.

“I just don’t want to lose you...”

You sigh, so frustrated with him. “I can take care of myself.”

“I’ve heard that from someone before and it didn’t go well.” Taehyung twists his lips, already regretting having said it. “And what happened tonight showed you couldn’t take care of yourself.”

“Is this because of that girl? That one in the diner? What happened between you two anyway? You clearly are still thinking about her!”

His body turns stiff. “What are you talking about?”

You tighten your hands into fists and cast your head down. “I am not that girl, Taehyung. I can’t be her. You should know that.”

You are saying nonsense things right now; the words pour out of your mouth without thinking. Maybe it is because of so many things happening tonight, or maybe because there are so many things in your heart and your mind. Or maybe it has been in your head several times, but never left your mouth.

Maybe Taehyung just sees you as a replacement for his past love. Maybe he really thinks of you as a palate cleanser. Maybe he just does those sweet things to other women. Maybe you are the only one who wants more. Why are you thinking so highly of yourself?

His eyes widened in bewilderment. “Of course I know that!” He grabs your hand softly. “I never thought of you as her, Y/N. Never once. Well, maybe at first I just used you to help me forget her, but what we had is beyond that.”

You jerk your head up to meet his eyes. “Then why are you doing this?”

Taehyung’s hand lingers on your cheek. Instead of answering you, he leans in and pecks your lips softly. He pulls you into his chest, hugging you tightly. It is so unfair. Not only does he read you like an open book, he even has a cheat code. He knows how to comfort you. So unfair.

“The one we met in the diner, I almost lost her, and I meant it literally. She was hurt in the mission. She was bleeding so much, she even went into cardiac arrest. She was on the verge of death.” He sinks his head to your shoulder. “It was traumatizing to have my close friend in that state. I just... I don’t want to lose anyone ever again. Furthermore, I don’t want to lose you.”

He takes a deep breath, taking in your scents. “I am sorry that I made you think like that, Y/N. But I really never think of you that way.” He looks into your eyes. “Please believe me.”

If you were your past-self, you would be pushing him away now. You would call him a liar. You would never give him a chance. But since you’ve met him, you decided to start trusting him, trusting people more. He opens your heart and your mind. You hug him back. “I’m sorry.”

Taehyung kisses your head softly. “I am sorry I yelled at you.” You melt into his touch, sinking your face deeper. “Let’s just rest for tonight, okay?”

You nod weakly. “Okay.”

“Good girl.” He pulls away and pats your head lovingly. He takes your hand, guiding you to your bed.

Maybe you’re naive to trust him this much, after getting taken in by a classmate of all people. You still don’t know much about Taehyung’s line of work, his dangerous, well-dressed friends, and his apparently deadly skill with a gun. Maybe it is wrong, a bad decision, or maybe it is even the right decision. You don’t know. But you have to do what your heart tells you to do. You decide to trust him.

The following morning you wake up early and have time to think. If your old self from 5 years ago could see you right now, she would slap you in the face so hard you’d see stars. Maybe she would drag you to a convent, so you wouldn’t meet any men. But before she drags you, you would actually hug her. You would tell her that hating men will not be the answer. You would tell her that everything is going to be okay. You would tell her that she would find someone too, that she should give herself a chance to love someone.

Taehyung snuggles closely to your body, his hands holding your waist, his limbs nestle against your skin, protecting you from the outside world. He breathes slowly, still deep in his sleep. His hair is in disarray, a small pout pasted on his beautiful face. You look at his face carefully, finding the fine hairs around his mouth cute.

You run your fingers through his hair. You always like his hair. It is kind of curly and bouncy. It is not the first time you feel envious of his hair. His hair is shiny and soft compared to yours. Sure, maybe it is because you usually bleached it by yourself at home with Hani’s help before, and now your hair is dry and split. Maybe you should ask him where he gets his done.

Taehyung stirs with your touch, opening his eyes slowly. “Hey.” He sinks his head to your chest, hugging you tightly.

You can’t get enough of this.

“Hey to you too.” You stroke his hair. “Don’t you need to go to work? I think your phone has been ringing several times already”

“Don’t wanna,” he murmurs in your chest.

You smile at his antics. “Won’t you get into trouble?”

He hugs you tightly. “Don’t care.”

You giggle, hugging him back. “Oh, right. I need to find my phone.”

“It’s in my jacket.”

You gawk and hit him softly on the shoulder. “And why didn't you give it to me yesterday!”

Taehyung hums in your chest. “Oh, I also forget to tell Hani about you. She might be worried sick.”

You push him away abruptly. “And you couldn't say anything until just now?” You slide from your bed, walking to his jacket to find your phone. “Jesus, I can’t understand you.” You quickly dial Hani’s number to reassure her.

Taehyung sits as he watches you trying to explain yourself to your best friend on the phone. He can even hear Hani’s yelling faintly. He smiles mischievously when you put your middle finger towards him and glare. Even just that small action of you, it makes his heart racing.

It is weird. He can’t understand it.

He thought that he only had one chance to love someone, and when he lost her, he was almost sure he wouldn’t love or even meet anyone. But it changed when he met you. It changed when you decided to help him.

How come he became so attached to you? How come he wants you so damn much? How come you always take his breath away?

Taehyung rises from the bed and walks closer to you.

Maybe it's fate, when he found your bakery and met you for the first time. Maybe it’s chemistry, when you talked to him and slept with him the first time. Maybe it’s jealousy when he saw you with Chanyeol and when he hugged you.

Taehyung was never a hopeless romantic, but hell yeah. Maybe it’s love.

You turn your phone off and face him. “Well, thanks to you, she didn’t sleep at all last night. I can’t even understand her voice with her crying loudly like that. She also wanted to yell at you but first, she wanted to thank you. But still, you shouldn’t forget about Hani, she-“

Suddenly, Taehyung kisses you, interrupting your tirade, catching you off-guard. He kisses hard and quick. He then pulls away, to look at your face. “I-I think I am in love with you,” he says as he rests his forehead on yours.

His declaration makes you stunned. So out of the blue. So Taehyung. You do know that you both feel something about each other. But you never thought that you would hear it from him.

That he loves you.

Your heart is racing as your tears begin to fall. How many times have you cried in front of him since you’ve met? You’ve lost count. You don’t care. You can’t believe those words have this so much effect on you. You can’t believe how he affects you this much.

Taehyung senses your silence and looks at your face. “I am sorry, is that a bad thing for me to do?” He starts to panic as he wipes your tears.

You shake your head quickly. “No. Not at all. I just can’t believe I would hear it.” You smile softly.

“But I don’t want to rush anything. I want to do this carefully. I know you are still in the process of moving on. And so am I,” he blabs. “Oh. Not that I am still in love with that girl. I just thought-“

It’s your turn to stop his talk. You peck his lips quickly, making him blush. “That’s fine with me.” You grin from ear to ear, feeling drunk with happiness. “I think I’m in love with you too.”

He pulls you into his chest, holding you tightly. “Should we go on a date, then?”

You chuckle. “Fine by me. Maybe another place besides that diner?”

He smiles, the corner of his eyes crinkle. “Good call.” He leans in to give you another kiss. And after countless kisses you shared with him, it might be your most favorite one. That one kiss that declared a love for each other.

You never thought you would have this feeling.

Happiness. Love. Longing.

Sure, life is full of unexpected things. You thought you would just ride the bus for 2 stops, but you ended up sitting for another 4 stops because you dozed off. You thought you would just sit for a coffee, but then you ended up ordering a slice of cake because it looked delicious. You thought you would just eat the bread for a palate cleanser between the wine, but you ended enjoying the bread more than the wine. You turned to a man for comfort and to comfort him back, but ended up falling in love with him.

It was unexpected.

But you don’t dislike that a bit.

Maybe Hani was right, you did need a palate cleanser.

And now, your palate is pretty cleansed, and you are ready for the main course. Or maybe...

“How about another piece of bread?” you smile at Taehyung, as you drag him to the kitchen for the favorite part of your day, breakfast with him.

Epilogue

“You must be kidding me! That can’t be possible!” Jin yells.

Jungkook who has the report in his hand, winces. “I know Hyung. But that’s what the forensic report said.” He points to the part of the report which states: respiratory arrest-asphyxia. “The gunshot was fired after he died, apparently.”

“But when he was killed?” Yoongi asks back.

Hoseok thinks for a bit. “You know, Y/N said that Baekho was hyperventilating before he was shot. Maybe he had some disease? Or maybe he was poisoned?”

Jin runs his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “Alright then, Jungkook you go back to the forensics and investigate his cause of death. Yoongi will check the CCTV recordings, to see if he was drugged before he was in the warehouse. We still need to check on Baekhyun’s whereabouts too.”

As the other agents scatter from Jin’s office, Jungkook lingers longer. “Can you assign someone else to the forensics?” he asks warily.

Jin looks at him suspiciously. “Look, Kook. I want to help you, but the fact is we are in a bigger case than we thought. Please don’t make me yell at you. You are a professional.”

Jungkook sighs. “You are right. I am sorry. I‘ll investigate it immediately.” He nods and walks out of the office. He hates to go to the forensic department, but he can’t avoid it forever. He repeats Jin’s words to himself. He needs to be professional.

He must face her.

Go check the other series because *sst... It’s all connected!

Series Masterlist: The Company

Taglist: @kb-bangtanenthusiast @w0lfqu33n @gee-nee @jaienn @nctssidehoe

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dadolorian · 4 years

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Just like me - Part 4

A/N: Something sweeter Credits: Thank you @oloreaa for being my Beta reader/editor !

Title: Just Like me Fandom: Prospect (2018) Ship: Ezra/Reader Warning: Mentions of PTSD symptoms Word count: 2K + Master List Request status AO3 Link Previous part Next part - coming soon

Okay, so the couch sucked. It was old, lumpy and you had no idea how Ezra had managed to sleep on it the night before. It was who knows what time in the morning when you gave in, conceding that you probably weren’t going to get any sleep that night. To pass the time you grabbed one of the many books that were strewn around the place, attempting to read by the soft glow of the lamp beside the couch, your heavy eyes protesting, demanding you sleep but you knew there was no way to get comfortable, even with the blankets Ezra had so carefully tucked you in with.

You were all but ready to sleep on the floor as you re-read the same sentence of the book for the fifth time in a row, still failing to understand what it said. You were preparing the blankets, ready to throw them to the ground when a small, muffled noise caught your attention. Closing your eyes and holding your breath to focus in on the noise, you concluded it was coming from the wall right behind the couch. Ezra’s room. It sounded like... soft whimpering, and perhaps you were a little too enamored by him, because your mind immediately conjured up some rather adult images to the sound.

You felt guilty for those thoughts immediately however, not just for thinking of your friend that way, but because a strangled, muffled yell corrected your assumption, reminding you of one of your first, truly personal discussion with your friend. He has nightmares. You quietly, but quickly put your leg on before you even comprehend what you were doing, not wanting to listen to him suffer. You gently padded over to his room, letting yourself in silently. You couldn’t see him too well in the dark, a small amount of street light let in through the blinds only allowing you to see enough detail to make out his outline in the darkness. He was tossing and turning, panting heavily in his sleep and mumbling incoherent thoughts, but because of his frantic tone you couldn’t make any of them out. Every now and then he let out a desperate whimper or startled yelp, it broke your heart to listen to it. You could only imagine what he was seeing in his dreams. You were sitting on the edge of his bed before you even thought of a plan as to how to help him, you knew better than to wake him, and while you didn’t believe the myth that waking someone from a nightmare could kill them, you did know it could be equally as startling. But you just couldn’t bear to listen to him suffer. You reached across him and took his hand from where it lay on his chest, gently caressing his knuckles. Brushing the hair from his face with your other hand, you smoothed the hair from his forehead, not bothered by how he was sweaty to the touch. His thrashing stopped at your touch, but the poor man was still whimpering and calling for help in his sleep. All you could think to do was shush him and comfort him with words. “Sshhhh, Ezra, it’s okay, you’re safe, I'm here,” you repeated in a whisper, the hand you were holding tightened for a moment, before his frantic mumbles and whimpered slowly died down. You weren’t sure how long it took, but you could feel him relax physically. “Angel,” he mumbled in his sleep, it sounded like a mix of relief and pleading. “Yeah, it’s me,’ you whispered back. “Just settle down, you’re safe, you can sleep.” He rolled onto his side slowly, his back turned to you, you had to relent and let go of his remaining hand as he did so, but his quiet, even breathing let you know that his nightmare had passed. You smiled in the dark, happy it was over for him. Getting up, you paused to look at his sleeping mass, you felt the urge to kiss his cheek goodnight. You knew he wouldn’t mind for you to do such a thing, he did not shy from sweet kisses to your forehead or hair when he comforted you after all, and you could imagine his smile if you were ever bold enough to try such a thing while he was awake. Perhaps it was because he was asleep that you felt so bold, stroking his hair again as you leant down to kiss his cheek. He sighed your nickname again and nuzzled himself further into his pillow. “Sweet dreams,” you whispered as you let yourself out of the room, careful not to close the door too loudly as to wake him. You collapsed back on the couch with tired grunt, trying to settle down before remembering your previous issue. Cursing quietly you threw the pile of blankets Ezra had given you onto the ground so you could situate yourself more comfortably, too tired to even bother with your leg. ‘It’s better than the couch at least’ you thought as your body slowly surrendered to sleep.

“Morning, Dad,” Cee’s voice cut through the small living area, rousing you from sleep. “Shhhhh, she's still asleep,” Ezra whispered. “I don’t think she slept well last night, she's sleeping on the floor. I don’t want to wake her.”

You smiled into the pillow, he was so considerate. “The couch is uncomfortable,” Cee replied, whispering too. “I know, but she refused to let me take it. Stubborn woman,” he murmured as he moved about the kitchen. “That makes two of you,” Cee teased, snickering at something, Ezra’s expression you imagined. “Are you going to work today?” she asked, changing the subject. “Not until tonight, i’m only working at the port this evening,” he answered, a soft sizzling sound filling the kitchen for a moment. “Which is why, little lady, I am up and making you breakfast.” “Pancakes again?” she asked. “You only make them when you’re in a good mood.” “Well, there’s plenty to be happy about now,” he whispered, you could hear the smile on his face. “I’ll bet,” the young girl snickered again. You could hear him flipping the pancakes, the smell made your stomach rumble. “I must enquire, Little Bird.” Ezra sighed after a short while. “I believe I had one of my terrors again last night. Please tell me I did not wake you up again?” You heard the fridge open, followed by the sound cutlery. “Yeah, I heard, but you stopped pretty quickly.” Ezra sighed and hesitated a moment before asking, voice even quieter. “Do you think I kept her up too?” “I think she's the reason you stopped,” Cee murmured back, you could imagine the quizzical look Ezra was no doubt giving her, prompting her to continue. “I heard her moving about shortly after they started.” she admitted quietly. “I think I heard her go into your room.” Their conversation died down after that, both trying to keep as quiet as possible as to not wake you, but you couldn’t help drifting awake every now and then as they went about their morning routine. Things were silent once more when Cee left for school, Ezra seeing her off at the door. You could hear him shuffling about, trying to be respectful of your sleep. You woke up properly close to noon. Groaning loudly as you stretched out on the floor between the couch and coffee table before struggling up onto your feet. You were glad you kept your leg on, getting up off the floor without it would have been annoying. You made your way to the bathroom, hearing Ezra shuffle about in his room. He greeted you as you came back out of the bathroom, now standing in the kitchen. “Good morning, Angel,” he smiled cheerfully. “May I interest your weary soul with some breakfast?” “Pancakes?” you asked with a tired smile, nodding your answer to him as you were trying to brush the tangles out of your bed head with your fingers. “How did you know?” he asked with a chuckle, taking the batter out of the fridge. “I heard from a little Bird that you only make them when you’re in a good mood,” you joked, sitting yourself at the counter. He paused and looked at you. “Ah, you heard Birdie and I this morning? I’m very sorry about that, we did not intend to rouse you from your slumber.” You shook your head. “It's fine, you weren’t being loud,” you reassured. “It's just I didn’t have a proper sleep last night.” Mentally you scolded yourself at your slip, you were trying to reassure him, and here you were implying you had a terrible sleep because of your sleeping situation. He looked to the ground in shame and guilt. “Because of the couch, or because of me?” he asked. You sighed, “Travel lag catching up on me,” you lied, wanting to spare his concerns. “I was already awake last night when you had your nightmare.” He swallowed and turned back to his task of making the pancakes. “I am sorry you had to see me like that-” he began. “Stop,” you said firmly, putting an end to his self pity. “I understand Ezra. I already knew you had them, I've had them too. I know exactly what it's like. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” He looked back at you, guilt etched on his face. “I-I imagined I would be rid of them by now.” he admitted. “It has been almost two years, there's no reason for me to-” “Keeva, stop, Ezra,” you sighed. “You went through something horrific, you had a traumatic injury, and not only that, had to deal with the result of that injury while conscious. No one expects you to be over it.” He distracted himself with your breakfast. “You know,” you said, bringing his attention back to you. “I still get them too sometimes? And I lost mine long before you had.” He looked back at you again, eyes wide. “Still?” he asked. You nodded. “Of course, there's no set timeline on recovery Ezra,” you said, giving him a soft, sympathetic smile. “In fact, most of us spend the rest of our lives dealing with it. You give yourself too high expectations, you know?” He returned your smile. “Once again, Angel, you have made it seem far less daunting, thank you.” You beamed at him as he plated up your food. “Enjoy your lunch!” he teased as he placed the plate in front of you. You rolled your eyes at him before digging in.

Your clothes were still wet, but Ezra gave you some more spares of his for you to wear for the time being after you took a quick shower. He was getting himself ready for his shift that night as you came out of the bathroom again. He wanted to make sure everything was ready to go so he could spend as much time as possible with you before he had to race off. Once the two of you were ready you both sat on the couch while you let your leg dry out. “I am merely sitting at a desk watching monitors, Angel,” he explained when you asked what he had to do at work. “They do not allow me to act as a proper security guard doing rounds. They say I have no formal training, and apparently getting into altercations on the Green does not count as an adequate experience,” he chuckled. “And I think of course the arm plays a deciding factor in that regard. But,I suppose I am fine with that, I don't want to be a security guard after all. I’ll take what I can get for now.” You stared at his stump for a moment from your position arm hooked over the back of the couch and resting your cheek on your arm. “Physically, you should be able to get a prosthetic now yeah?” you asked. He nodded. “That's what my doctor said. But I regret that the option is out of my reach for now. Central is an expensive place, even in this industrial district. Every point I save goes to keeping a roof over Little Bird's head, providing her with an education and food in her belly. Everything I had saved up beforehand went to medical expenses and securing this place,” he gestured around. You smiled, tucking your leg up so you could rest your chin on your knee. It was so sweet how he was giving up everything for her but you couldn't help but feel the smallest amount of pity for him because he had to give up chasing his dream. “I could help?” you offered. He smiled, ruffling your hair before kissing your temple. “You have already helped me more than enough Angel.” “I want to help more,” you said, raising your chin in challenge. “Keep your points, save them for something important,” he encouraged. “I think a prosthetic is pretty damn important Ezra.” you challenged. ‘You’re important’ you added in your head. “Angel,” he sighed. “You don’t have to-” “You’re right, I don’t have to. I want to.” “Keeva you are incredibly stubborn you know that?” he chuckled. “I’ve been told once or twice,” you smiled. He chuckled more and shook his head. “I mean it Ezra, let me help.” “I couldn’t ask that of you,” he said. “And you’re not, I'm offering,” you said, he was about to protest some more but you pressed on. “Look, I'm in a good financial situation. I haven’t had to pay for medical or living expenses while in physical recovery, I don’t have to hire pods or lodging when I work. I don't spend much when I arrive back in Central and I just had two successful trips in a row consisting of multiple jobs. So if it's the points. We’re good.” He hesitated, you could see in his eyes that he was considering it. “If this was the other way around, Ezra, you wouldn’t hesitate to do the same thing,” you cut into his thoughts with a poke to his chest. His shoulders dropped as he sighed. “I must concede that you are not wrong there, Angel.” You gave him a cheeky smile. “Then it’s agreed, I'm buying you a prosthetic!” you cheered. “Only a standard model,” he said sternly, “ No fancy robotics or anything too high end. And I must insist that once Little Bird is off to college and I am back to prospecting that I pay you back.” “You really can be just as stubborn as me,” you chuckled. “But, it’s a deal. We can take a look at options when you get some time off work.” He sighed, leaning back on the couch. “I am afraid that won’t be for a few days Angel. I took a day off yesterday for you, my days are not usually so free.” “It’s okay, I understand,” you said with a smile. He patted your thigh, looking back at you with a smile. “I hope you can keep yourself entertained while Little Bird and I are away. I think we have a spare key should you want to venture out at all. I would hate for you to be cooped up in here all day all alone after all.” You smiled wider, trying to ignore the way his casual touch made your heart soar and cheeks heat up. “I might just do that. I haven't had the chance to spend my spoils yet. Might treat myself.” “You deserve it,” he smiled back before getting up and rummaging about one of the kitchen drawers. He laughed in success as he pulled the key out and tossed it to you on the couch. “Cee gets back mid to late afternoon. I won’t be back until late at night. I’m sure I can trust you two ladies to arrange your own dinner. Although I am afraid there is not much in terms of food in the fridge, I have not had the chance to-” “I’ll go shopping,” you interrupted, getting up off the couch and making your way over to him. “And, before you start, yes, I do have to. You are letting me crash here free of charge, It’s the least I can do,” you said, poking him in the chest again. “I don’t know why I even bother trying to argue with you, Angel,” he sighed, rolling his eyes, a smile giving away his true feelings. “Fine, just don’t burn the place down.” “Hey, I can cook!” you pouted as he ruffled your hair again and kissed your forehead. “Of course you can, Angel,” he smiled.

TAG LIST @oloreaa @chaotic-noceur

#prospect #ezra x reader #ezra #ezra from prospect #Pedro pascal #my fic #just like me #JLM

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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Like They Do in Vegas, 1/5 (Vanique) - Mac

AN: This fic came about from a series of prompts I did on my blog and is entirely Ortega’s fault. I blame her, and this is also dedicated to her because Vanique is a god tier ship and I needed to contribute in some way.

As always, Meggie is a lovely person and I thank her endlessly for betaing this.

And to you at home I hope you enjoy!

BGM Challenge Notes: Vanessa and Monique’s friends show up in Chapter 4! And I’m working on a playlist for this AU that I’ll link next chapter!

Summary: Vanessa is a Casino Girl just trying to get by. Monique is a mysterious rich stranger. They meet in the city of sin. What could possibly go wrong?

Chapter 1: Go Big or Go Home

Vanessa arrived exactly twenty minutes before she was scheduled to clock in.

She threw her purse into the row of lockers and headed for the back of the small employee lounge. She passed the clock-in computer, the whiteboard on the wall, the flyers for various shows around town, and walked all the way to the last dressing room, after noticing the other two were already occupied. Vanessa smiled instinctively at the sound of Vixen’s voice raised above the sound of someone else playing music. She was yelling to whoever was in the adjacent dressing room, recounting a story of the night’s events.

Vanessa got dressed quickly, slipping out of her plain black jeans and sweater combination and into her sparkly silver dress that caught and reflected beams of light in a way that she had been told was mesmerizing. Vanessa never really noticed before she started working here, the dress most likely having been picked off a sales rack back home. It didn’t matter where it came from now.

What mattered now was that Vanessa’s hair was a mess.

Aquaria told her so and tried to sound exasperated when she did. It only ended up coming out fondly. Vanessa gave her a winning smile and batted her lashes too for good measure before the younger girl rolled her eyes and motioned to the chair beside her. Aquaria went to town on curling the particularly unruly strands, but there wasn’t time for much else; they both knew another round of patrons was due to hit any minute now.

Everyone that worked in Vegas knew the waves.

11 p.m. brought the moms and the bachelorette parties.

11:30 p.m. brought older couples and divorcees.

12 a.m. brought the guys with girlfriends.

12:30 a.m. brought the guys without girlfriends.

1 a.m. brought the wealthy singles, and the wealthy not-so-singles.

1:30 a.m. brought in the drunk people.

2 a.m. was what girls like Vanessa liked to call ‘closing time.’ Seal the deal or your ass was out on the curb for the night.

Luckily, Vanessa had an apartment, unlike some of the other casino girls. And the 300 square feet could be roomy—if she closed her eyes.

Vanessa made do.

Aquaria shooed her away from the chair at 12:55, giving Vanessa ample time to squeeze every last detail from Vixen, who was more than happy to recount yet another story about a creepy man trying to get her to join his brothel.

Offers like that were strangely common in this line of work. Well, maybe they weren’t so strange.

Most people thought they were sex workers anyway. Prostitutes or strippers, whores hired to seduce the male patrons and run them dry. Some of the other girls saw it that way. But as far as Vanessa was concerned, she was a glorified waitress. Her job was to facilitate the purchase of alcohol. The more people drank, the prettier she looked; the more they bet, the more they lost or won, the more money the casinos made.

In a lot of ways, it was a dream job. Vanessa got paid to look pretty and talk. Two things she was naturally gifted at.

Out on the main floor of the casino, Vanessa began her usual route around the space. She spent a good few minutes just drawing eyes, pulling focus from the card games, slot machines, and general greed. She walked slowly, careful to tilt her head down, flutter her eyelashes when patrons were close enough to see the eye makeup she had hurriedly done on the bus.

Vanessa was good at her job. She found a mark within five minutes.

Older guy. Late fifties. Nicely dressed. Seemingly ordinary. But what Vanessa instantly noticed was his watch. Rolex, one of the older ones. That’s ultimately how Vanessa picked all her marks. Her daddy used to say ‘what a man wears on his wrist he wears with pride.’ There was something more about shoes and hiding, but Vanessa never remembered that part.

She was fine with the Rolex, but she had really been hoping to find a Patek tonight.

Rolexes only started at $5,000.

But Vanessa made do.

She waltzed over to the roulette wheel, making sure to smile warmly at the employee behind the table. She gracefully rested her hands on the edge of the table as the casino employee gave a nearly imperceptible nod toward Mr. Rolex. Vanessa winked at him in thanks.

“You know I always go for 32,” Vanessa said to the group of men who had just started to take notice of her presence. She honed her sights on Mr. Rolex to see his reaction.

He practically preened under the attention. Vanessa rolled her eyes internally.

This was getting too easy.

Mr. Rolex eventually pulled up another seat and sent Vanessa to the bar three times before turning to ask her name.

If she were anywhere else, doing any other job, Vanessa might have been offended.

She only batted her eyes and giggled animatedly. “Vanjie,” she lied.

Mr. Rolex took that as his cue to lean in closer and press a whiskery kiss to Vanessa’s neck. She did her best not to freeze up under the attention and to just go with it.

It was then while pretending she was anywhere else, that Vanessa noticed a woman at the opposite end of the casino. She was sitting alone in one of the plush chairs that made up the lounge. It was noticeable because she was alone and fucking gorgeous. Long flowing dark hair and the tightest red dress Vanessa had ever seen that fell off her curves like water.

Vanessa was intrigued instantly. No woman that looked like that was alone in Vegas for no reason.

She convinced Mr. Rolex and his new buddies that they needed more gin and made her way quickly over to the bar, allowing herself the immense pleasure of ogling the strange woman from afar.

For all her smooth grace and easy confidence, Vanessa was rendered nearly incoherent when it came to women. Men were easy. You leaned over the table and their monkey brains took over. Women on the other hand… Women were a different species.

Vanessa tried to squeeze information from the bartender. He knew nothing, only that she ordered a martini and had been sitting alone all night.

Vanessa couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more to her. So she did something stupid. Something stupid and silly that she would beat herself up over later: she ordered the mystery woman a martini. Vanessa went back over to Mr. Rolex and his friends, placed the drinks in front of them, and then made up an excuse about ‘being right back’ and having to ‘take care of something.’

Mr. Rolex and his friends were too engrossed in their game to care and Vanessa slipped away without any fuss.

As she headed back over to the bar, Vanessa noticed the woman was gone from her spot in the lounge. Vanessa’s heart sank in her chest and she was tempted to throw the whole night out as a waste when she noticed the woman perched at the bar looking directly at her.

“So you’re the cute thing that ordered me a drink,” the woman said by way of a greeting. “This one,” she nodded her head at the bartender, “was tellin’ me you don’t do that for many people. Should I be honored?”

“You tell me,” Vanessa shot back, surprising even herself with her quick wit.

The woman chuckled in response, throwing her head back and causing a commotion with her joy. Something inside Vanessa ached to be that free.

The woman motioned to the barstool next to her and Vanessa took it without another thought.

“You play much?” Vanessa asked, motioning to the various gambling methods.

“Betting?” the woman asked. “Not usually. I get sucked in, and you know what they say.”

“Hmm?”

“Greed is a sin.”

Vanessa laughed. “Oh baby, you in the city of sin.”

“Monique,” the woman corrected.

“What?”

“Not ‘baby.’ Monique.”

Vanessa smiled, and the woman, Monique, smiled back.

She raised up her hand to take a sip of her drink and Vanessa nearly choked at the sight of a Mille RM 51-02 draped elegantly over Monique’s wrist.

She had never seen a Mille in person before, having only ever heard stories of the watches that started at $30,000 and could go up to two million.

The vortex of gold and silver embedded in the watch face drew Vanessa’s eyes and she couldn’t help the smile overtaking her face. “Well, you know what they say, Monique?”

The corner of Monique’s mouth quirked up and she shook her head no.

Vanessa smirked. “Go big or go home.”

…

Vanessa smiled into her drink as Monique threw her head back in a laugh.

The sound reverberated off the glass in her hand, and Vanessa was sure that the joy in Monique’s voice had more to do with the warmth in her stomach than the alcohol.

“So what is it that you do, Vanjie?” Monique asked, her voice alight with humor and warmth.

“You ain’t never met a casino girl before?”

Monique shook her head no.

“I look pretty and get drinks,” Vanessa chuckled. “Speakin’ of,” Vanessa trailed off, looking to the side door where she could clearly make out her boss, Ms. Visage, glaring at her. “I’d love to keep talkin’ but—”

“How ‘bout I play some games?” Monique offered. “That should get her off your back, yeah?”

And now Vanessa was sure the alcohol couldn’t be the cause of the warmth because her whole body lit up under the knowledge that Monique wanted to spend more time with her.

“Thought you didn’t gamble,” Vanessa teased. “Somethin’ about it bein’ a sin…”

“I think if the Lord were in my place, he’d understand.”

They made the rounds: slot machines, poker, and Vanessa’s favorite, Blackjack.

The Blackjack tables were set apart from the rest of the casino, some architect really letting loose with the layout of the section. The ceiling was arched, and the tables were long surrounded by plush seating rather than the stiff angled chairs that lined the other tables.

Vanessa assumed her favorite position, perching herself on the arm of the chair while leaning into Monique’s presence, allowing her easy access to duck down and huskily whisper words of encouragement. All the while keeping their skin from touching.

It was an old move. One she had learned her first week working here. The girls called it the Blackjack Bag. You made it so you were constantly leaning down to whisper directly in your target’s ear; this gave you the excuse to flaunt your cleavage while also getting a target riled up by the sound of your voice.

The Blackjack tables are where you bagged targets, hence, the title.

Monique seemed to be no different in that respect. No matter how hard she tried to hide her flush, each time Vanessa leaned down to compliment her, her hands tightened on her cards.

She was doing well. She had gotten a face card nearly every hand, and she knew when to fold and when to go for it. Vanessa was impressed. She told her as much.

“Beginner’s luck really does exist,” Vanessa teased.

Monique pulled her head back to look Vanessa up and down, taking her time to really take the younger woman in. “I’ll show you luck,” she said as she moved her massive pile of chips to the middle.

“All in.”

The men at the table squawked in a mixture of shock and protest. Monique just made a vague hand motion to keep playing.

Vanessa’s jaw was on the floor.

Monique only had a three and a queen. Statistically, at least one of the other players had to have higher cards than that.

The house went around, the men to her left and right got another card, but Monique stayed calm, and denied it.

It was then that Vanessa realized what Monique was doing.

She was using Vanessa as a lie detector almost, signaling to the other players what cards she had. Vanessa kept her expression neutral, and did a damn good job of it too because the other players all looked at her surprised.

As expected, they all folded, and Monique took back her mound of chips and the additional bets.

She looked up at Vanessa with a self-satisfied smirk, never breaking eye contact as she flipped her cards over.

The table erupted.

Two can play your games, she had said without opening her mouth.

Vanessa just smirked.

At one point, after Monique bested some business suit out of his measly twenty grand, the man approached Vanessa and attempted to make a move, running his hands harshly up and down her sides. Vanessa rejected him but pointed him in the direction of one of her fellow employees.

He didn’t seem to get the hint until Monique looked up from her cards and wrapped an arm possessively around Vanessa’s middle.

“I think,” she practically spit, “my girl told you to get lost.”

The suit looked at them with a raised eyebrow but didn’t dare say anything more. Vanessa felt white heat in her gut at the feeling of Monique’s arm around her, and she had to take a second to compose herself.

Vanessa turned back to the game and was surprised to find Monique’s eyes searching her own. “Does that happen a lot?” she asked, genuinely concerned.

“Yeah,” Vanessa tried to brush it off, “but you know, it’s Vegas.”

“And that makes it okay?”

Vanessa shook her head lightly. “Nah, but what can ya do?”

Monique looked at her hard, calculating. She didn’t say anything, but turned back to her game, placing her cards on the table before attempting to stand up

“I fold.”

Vanessa looked at her shocked. “You were winning, wha—”

Monique stood in front of her, eyes wide, asking permission, seeing if this was real. The vulnerability in her expression nearly made Vanessa take a step back.

“You wanna get out of here?” Monique asked, expression unassuming and open. “You can say no. I—”

Vanessa stopped Monique with a hand to her face. The first skin to skin contact. “Do I look like I wanna say no?”

#rpdr fanfiction #vanessa vanjie mateo #monique heart #vanique #casino girl au #lesbian au #fluff #angst #developing relationship #gambling #fic challenge #black girl magic fic #like they do in vegas #mac #diversity fic #s10

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